“Nice one!” Keli called out, and gave Goob a high-three.
Crunch tossed his cards onto the table and folded his arms. “Imma sit this one out. Any game that requires a vote like that to get started isn’t one I care to join in on.”
Kelly groaned and gave the sergeant a dismissive wave. “Stars, Crunch, it’s just a name; no one’s doing any of that shit—ha! See what I did there? Besides, none of us have the plumbing for it, anyway.”
“I feel like that’s the only thing keeping you from those kinds of activities, Kelly,” Goob said as he examined his hand. “Not that I have to worry about being the plug-sucker or butt-plug. This hand is killer. Gonna mop the floor with you.”
“Big words, Goob, big words,” Kelly retorted after downing the rest of her beer and signaling a servitor to bring her another. “Care to put some money on that? Loser has to…mop the floor!”
“Wow,” Chase shook his head. “For all that smack talk, your stakes are pretty weak. How’s about loser has to scrub all the Nietzschean logos off Deck 47?”
“Shit, Captain, if that’s the stakes, I’m out, best hand ever or not,” Goob said, laying his cards on the table—face-down, Chase noted.
“Yeah…that’s more than just shitty stakes, that’s a life sentence,” Keli drawled.
“Oh! Well punned,” Kelly proclaimed.
“Thank you, thank you. I’ll be here all week, try the strawberries.”
Goob moaned, a look of sorrow in his eyes. “Don’t talk about strawberries. We finished the last of them yesterday. I nearly cried.”
“You know…” Kelly gave Goob a conspiratorial wink. “I have a private stash of strawberries.”
“Is that what you’re putting up?” Chase asked. “Oh, wait…that’s a euphemism, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” Goob pressed. “Is it?”
“Which are you asking about, the strawberries, or the strawberries?”
A wide grin split Goob’s lips. “Both.”
Kelly sat back and shrugged. “Sure, I’ll put all my strawberries up. Why not. I’ll kick all your asses. You’ll be sucking my plug.”
“Not me,” Crunch grunted. “Like I said, I’m out.”
“We know,” Goob said, slapping Crunch on the shoulder. “You’re too much of a wuss to risk sticking your face between Kelly’s asscheeks. Granted, she prolly has teeth back there.”
“Hey! Whoa!” Kelly raised a hand, and wagged a finger in Goob’s face. “You’ve taken the metaphor way too far.”
“Me?” Goob exclaimed. “I didn’t make all the shit and strawberries jokes.”
“You’re right,” Chase said, catching Keli’s eye. “This is the most disgusting version of Snark ever. Where in the stars did you all learn it?”
Everyone at the table glanced at one another and then laughed.
“Who do you think?” Kelly asked between guffaws. “Barne.”
A reminder pinged on Chase’s HUD, and he breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank stars. We’re coming out of the DL in twenty minutes. I want everyone sharp in case we jump into the shit, so clean up this mess and scrub that booze from your bloodstream.”
“Nice one, Captain,” Kelly chuckled. “ ‘Jump into the shit’. You would have done just fine in butt-Snark.”
* * * * *
“You’re practically vibrating,” Heather commented, as Chase stood at the front of the bridge, counting the seconds until the Fury Lance dropped back into normal space.
“Me?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder at the ship’s captain. “You’ve been pacing just as much as I have. Don’t try to pretend like you’re not on pins and needles, too.”
Heather gave a nonchalant shrug, then grimaced. “OK, you got me. I’m a mess. This has got to have been the longest nine days of my life. I can’t imagine what they’ve gone through; it must be horri—” She stopped abruptly. “Sorry, this is why I’m trying to suppress. If I don’t, I say stupid shit.”
“It’s OK,” Chase told her with a reassuring smile. “We’re all thinking the worst. But we have to remember: this is Rika. Not only has she survived worse, she’s a mech. You’re the toughest people in the galaxy.”
“You’re one, too,” Heather said with a kind smile. “A mech, and tough.”
“Still feel like I’m earning it, here,” Chase replied. “But I suppose that’s a normal feeling for our line of work.”
Heather nodded solemnly. “ ‘Only the dead…”
“…know the end’,” he completed the saying.
<Dropping into normal space in five, four, three, two, one!> Potter read out the numbers with increasing urgency, and Chase wondered if she felt as nervous as the rest of them.
He didn’t get a chance to ask, as the view of the Q9 object appeared on the screen.
“Well…that’s unexpected.” Chief Ona was the first to speak. “Are those moons all on the same orbital path?”
<They are,> Potter replied. <It’s a klemperer rosette. They’re a pain to maintain, but I guess it might be easier out here in interstellar space with less stuff to tug at the moons.>
“And they’re mining them?” Garth asked.
Heather nodded slowly, peering at the display. “Must be.” She pointed at two locations. “Those are refinery platforms.”
The bridge crew was still discussing the object they were approaching, when Potter interrupted. <I have something!>
“Rika?” Chase asked, turning toward the secondary scan tank, where a small craft had appeared.
<I don’t know,> the AI replied. <It’s a Nietzschean shuttle; I’m reading a very faint signal on one of our emergency bands.>
“It’s warm, warm enough for life support to be running,” Chase said as he examined the shuttle’s signature.
“Ona,” Heather strode back to her command seat. “Get us to that thing on the double, but keep us out of view of that nest of Niets down there.”
“Yes ma’am!” Ona all but shouted.
DRAGON’S LAIR
STELLAR DATE: 10.23.8949 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: NMSS Spine of the Stars, approaching Farthing Station
REGION: Epsilon, Old Genevia, Nietzschean Empire
Rika and Leslie crouched inside one of the Spine of the Stars’ landing strut assemblies, made roomy enough for them to fit by the removal of segments of the strut itself.
Sofia had assured them that should the ship get an internal berth—which was likely—the bay would have a cradle, so they wouldn’t need to worry about the strut deploying.
Both women knew that for this segment of their journey, they were entirely at Sofia’s mercy. If the Nietzschean colonel gave them away, there would be little they could do, trapped as they were in the landing assembly.
Rika and Leslie’s plan—which they fervently hoped would work—was to wait until the first round of inspection crews had passed through the ship, and then sneak out onto the docks and secure a ride away from Epsilon.
That was what they’d told Sofia, at least.
Rika and Leslie had agreed that getting the hell out of the ship at the first possible moment was their best bet, regardless of whether or not the inspection crews were still scouring the Spine of the Stars; if for no other reason than that they could barely move in the cramped space.
<You two are so anxious, it would give me hives if I had skin,> Niki commented at one point.
<Can you blame us?> Leslie asked. <We’re trusting a Nietzschean, here. I don’t care how much she wants to save her own skin; if she sees an opportunity to screw us and better her situation, she’ll take it in a heartbeat. Turning us over would be quite the coup for her.>
Rika nodded. <Barring the vid we have of her killing Gideon. She was even smiling when she did it.>
<She’s a woman willing to hold to her convictions,> Leslie agreed. <Those primarily being preservation of self.>
The ship shuddered, and the pair of women felt gravity begin to tug at them.
<Could be worse,> Rika said as sou
nds came from outside the ship, indicating they had moved inside a bay. <Sofia could be in here with us.>
Leslie giggled, her shoulders shaking. <Not a lot of room. She’d have to sit on your lap.>
<I think I’d rather ride outside.>
A dull thud echoed through the hull as the Spine of the Stars settled onto a docking cradle. While they’d still been on approach to Farthing Station, Rika had bored a half-meter hole through the strut cover, through which she sent out a passel of nanoprobes.
<Stars, what did we ever do without these things?>
Leslie shrugged. <Sent out big, clumsy drones that got spotted and taken out regularly.>
<I remember back in the war I thought they were amazing…now I think a two-millimeter drone is massive.>
<You know…> Leslie began as they watched the nanocloud’s feeds from the bay surrounding the ship. <Saying ‘back in the war’ sounds funny now…what, with the war being back on.>
<Is it back on, or is this a new war?> Rika asked.
<I guess that’s one for the history buffs to figure out when the dust settles.>
The women fell silent as the probes captured images of a docking bay in near chaos.
Soldiers ranged around the ship, covering all the airlocks, while a colonel marched up to the main entrance, waiting for it to cycle open.
<You know…we’re mostly obscured from here,> Rika observed. <We should go now, before they start inspecting things. Looks like they’re taking the super-paranoid approach.>
<Words right out of my mind,> Leslie replied, easing toward the hole in the strut cover and activating her armor’s stealth. She disappeared from Rika’s visuals, and thirty long seconds later, sent a ping that she was at the base of the docking struts—one level down from the main deck of the docking bay.
Rika followed after, easing through the narrow opening, feeling like a square peg in a round hole as she twisted to get her GNR’s barrel through, along with her AC9CR.
As Rika clambered onto one of the docking cradle’s struts, Niki made a disgusted noise in her mind. <Dammit. These Niets have better net security than we’ve hit before.>
<Better infrastructure?> Rika asked.
<No, better maintenance. The encryption keys we pulled from the ships at the Albany System aren’t working here like they were at Sepe. They must have rotated them all out—smart on their part, but a pain in the ass for us. Even the keys we got from Sofia are being rejected.>
Rika reached the base of the strut, and slipped through a gap into the service deck below. <Your failures going to raise an alarm?>
<Yes,> Niki replied with a conspiratorial note in her voice. <But not the way you’re thinking. I planted a subroutine in the ship’s NSAI to attempt all this. So far as the Niets are concerned, it’s a worm we left behind that’s attacking them.>
<Clever,> Rika commented as she hung down from a girder and dropped onto the service deck. The space was half-filled with conduits, and racks laden with spare components. <Sheesh. Stuff is just jammed in everywhere here.>
<I’m guessing they do a lot of refit in these bays. No service workers around right now, though.>
Rika confirmed that as she swept her gaze across the space below the dock’s main deck. <Maybe they got them all to clear out in case there was a fight.>
<Or they decided to do that on their own.>
A chuckle nearly escaped Rika’s lips. <Not a bad move.>
Her HUD lit up with a location pin, and she saw that Leslie was already at the far side of the service deck, positioned near one of the doors—where Rika assumed she was planting an infil kit, one of the six that Niki had assembled on the ship.
Rika crept carefully across the deck, her weight causing her to move more slowly than Leslie, who massed less than half what she did, even in her armor.
Before she reached the door, the scout had it open and was flashing a location update that showed her already progressing down a long passageway on the far side.
The pair’s immediate goal was simple: get out of the sector that the Spine of the Stars had docked in before any sort of lockdown occurred. Given the number of soldiers that had surrounded the Spine of the Stars, Rika feared that eventuality may happen sooner than later.
She wanted to gather as much intel as possible before they hitched a ride out, but was wondering if they’d have time before the alarms started sounding.
<I’m in their network…sorta,> Niki reported.
<Sorta?>
<Well, I’m in a maintenance control system. That’s the thing about rotating access tokens to keep things secure; there are lots and lots of systems that need network access, the vast majority being automated systems or bots, like that floor cleaner we just passed. A lot of people assume that the machine is secure enough, so they don’t make it rotate credentials like a human. For the most part that’s true, but get physical access to said machine—such as the nano I landed on it as we walked past—and you’re in.>
<So you’re saying they didn’t rotate encryption keys on the cleaning bots.>
<Exactly.>
<I need to make it look like I do more than come along for the ride,> Niki said with a soft laugh.
<So what fun things are there in the maintenance network?> Rika asked.
<Well…> the AI began. <Let’s see…mostly records of what’s been docked where. Ships, ships, and more ships. Wait a second. That can’t be right.>
<I’m on pins and needles here, Niki.>
<Back in the war, do you recall seeing the Nietzschean H-Class carriers?>
Rika gave a slight shudder. <Hated those things. They were the size of Hegemony Dreadnoughts, six kilometers long, several wide, just loaded with fighters. When I was back on Dekar, I’d heard that they were all decommissioned. Something about being too costly to operate.>
<Well, I guess we know where they decommissioned them to. There are over four thousand of them here. But service logs show them being brought back up to active service readiness.>
<Holy crap,> Rika whispered. <Four thousand of those ships could make things tricky for us. One on one, I don’t think they could take out one of our stasis ships, but nothing short of the Fury Lance could make a dent in them, either. Plus, they could decimate the civilian population in a system—which is what the Niets loved to do back in the war.>
<Does that change our plan?> Niki asked. <There’s just more and more to dislike about this place.>
Rika considered the options laid out before her. <Well, I hate to think they could get those ships into service, but I don’t know what Leslie and I can do about thousands of Harriets.>
<I assume that’s what you call the H-Class carriers?>
<You’re on the ball, Niki.> Rika blew out a long breath into the confines of her helmet. <Stars. If my QuanComm was working, I could just make a call, and all this would be fine. You know, I was a little miffed at Tanis for slipping that into me, but now I’m just pissed it’s not working.>
<Such is life.>
Rika fell silent, following Leslie’s pings as the pair worked their way through the labyrinth of service corridors. After a few minutes, she began to encounter workers and automatons going about their business.
The corridor was wide enough for Rika to avoid collisions, but only just barely. Twice she’d brushed against Niets when they’d shifted too close to avoid. Luckily, both times, the workers were carrying loads, and didn’t slow, apparently guessing that they’d bumped a bulkhead with something they were carrying.
After several minutes, the two women passed through an airlock—wide open on both sides, despite a posted sign indicating that should never happen—and into the next section of the docks. Once there, Leslie sent Rika a quick message.
<Second door on the left. Let’s regroup.>
Rika reached the door, which led to a storage room, and waited for Leslie to open it. Once there were no workers in sight, the door slid aside. After giving
a three-count, Rika carefully slipped through.
Inside were long racks of equipment, everything from ventilation pumps to airlock doors, and even rows of seating along one wall.
Leslie pinged her location, near the seats, and Rika walked over, establishing a tightband connection.
<Have you found a ship yet?> Leslie asked. <I would have reached out back there, but I didn’t want to add too much EM.>
<Not yet,> Niki replied. <Nothing around here is scheduled to depart anytime soon, but we’ve learned why there seems to be so much refit in a shipyard that’s theoretically building new ships.>
Rika went on to explain the presence of the Harriet carriers, news that caused Leslie to groan. <And here I hoped they’d scrapped those things. So what are we going to do?>
<Our top priority is still to get this intel back, be it to the battalion or to the ISF, so we’re still looking for a ship. Our urgency is just compounded now.>
<I think I have an option,> Niki spoke up. <While this particular station is focused on Refit and Repair, there’s another facility orbiting this same moon that is set up for final finish work on cruisers—cabins, mess halls, training facilities, stuff like that. In typical military fashion, half the stuff that station needs is getting shipped here, and vice versa. There are regular cargo shuttle runs between the two to get stuff where it needs to be. If we hop one of those shuttles, we could get over to that other station, and find a cruiser that is shipping out.>
<Not really keen on riding a cruiser out of here,> Rika replied to the AI. <Taking control of a ship that large with just the two of us may not be possible.>
<As in ‘definitely isn’t possible’,> Leslie added.
<You two need to trust me more.> Niki sent a winking face into their minds. <Cruisers have FTL-capable shuttles and pinnaces. We just have to hang out in a bay until our friends get far enough away from Epsilon for us to jump—which is only a few AU out from the planet—then we blow the bay doors, pop out of the ship, and transition into the dark layer. Poof.>
<Poof,> Leslie repeated. <I do like poof. It’s kinda my M.O.>
<I feel like you’ve said that before,>