Alabaster Noon Read online

  “No, 105 cases like that. So, 1,260 modules.”

  So many, she thought, it must be important. “Kleena, can you figure this out?” She handed him one.

  “I’ll have Patrick Leonard run a diagnostic on it right away,” the scientist said. “He’s one of my newest Geek Squad members, and he’s the best person I’ve seen with computer systems in many years.” He looked at the data connector. “Whatever it is, the computer interface suggests it takes a lot of power and computer processing.”

  “Notify me as soon as you know anything,” she said. “Cafta, be sure they’re labeled as experimental ship components, so they don’t get shipped to someone under their original label.” She glanced at her computer. “Heat deflectors?” She looked at Kleena.

  “A component in life support,” he said.

  Aleksandra rolled her eyes. She examined the case and saw they were labeled “D-Field Generator.” “Add this name to it as well. Now, I have to get back to my job. You’re both dismissed.”

  The two elSha left, talking as they departed. Dimitri stood and examined the case with its eleven remaining D-Field Generators. He gazed at the machines for a moment before shaking his head and closing the case. He put the case in a storage area and returned to more urgent work.

  * * *

  Winged Hussars Prime Base, New Warsaw System

  “No, no, no!” Walker exclaimed over his comms. “I don’t want the asteroids towed into the emergence area; I want them towed to just outside it! Our forces are coming back, and we don’t want them to run into them. We’re just pre-positioning them so we don’t have so far to move them once we are able put them in place.”

  “But, sir, that’s going to take more time because we have to get them moving then stop them. Then we’ll have to get them moving again once it’s time to position them in the emergence zone.”

  “I understand that,” Walker replied with a growl. He paused a second to take a breath. Yelling at the tug force commander wasn’t going to help anyone. “Look,” he added, his temper back in check. “Some of the asteroids have to be moved a long way, and we don’t know how much time we have. All we know is that we will need them there soon after our forces return. We don’t want them there when our forces return.”

  “But, sir, no one has ever emerged into an asteroid or anything like that.”

  “I am well aware of that,” Walker said, just barely holding onto his temper. “Still, Colonel Cromwell and the rest of our folks just lost a battle, and the ships may not be in great shape when they arrive. How about if we make it easier for them by not placing obstacles in their path? That will also help them get to Prime Base faster so we can incorporate them in the planning.”

  “I guess I can see how that makes sense,” the tug captain replied. “Still, it’s a lot of extra movement, and more wear and tear on my fleet, you know.”

  “Let me put it to you this way,” Walker replied. “I’ll send Colonel Cromwell your way, and you can explain to her why you thought it wise to go against the orders of the acting system head of defenses, and why she had to maneuver around the asteroids you allowed to drift into the emergence area, okay?”

  “Now, now, you don’t have to get your panties in a bunch,” the crusty tug captain said. “We’ll take care of it as best we can. I’m just letting you know—”

  “Look,” Walker said, snapping, “I don’t have time for this shit! Get the asteroids in place, where I told you to, now! You have four days to make that happen, and tow the defender asteroids into place, too. Otherwise, Alexis Cromwell is going to have your ass.”

  “The defender asteroids, too? There’s no way—”

  “Yes, them, too! And the sooner you get on it, the more time you’ll have. Now do it!”

  He terminated the conversation before the tug captain could say another word—Walker really didn’t have time for it. He also didn’t like using the dead as a motivator, but the tug skipper didn’t know she was dead, and he doubted Alexis would mind him doing everything possible to protect her system from the enemy.

  He looked at the projections for the defender asteroids. Over the years, the Horde had been hollowing out a number of asteroids and mounting huge, ship-sized particle beam weapons on them. After an initial experiment to power them using solar collectors had proven inefficient, they had installed fusion reactors. The cost in F11 alone was staggering, but Alexis had approved it. The asteroids were massive and hard to turn quickly, though, which had required more tunneling, so the individual weapons had more room for independent targeting. The entire project had been one cost overrun after another, to the point that Sansar had almost canceled it, but then Sato made a few changes to the design which made them feasible.

  Walker looked at the estimates. Of the twelve Defender-class asteroid bases, six would be fully operational when the fleet returned, with four more in various stages of readiness. The last two had been hollowed out and had their fusion plants installed but hadn’t gotten any of their weapons yet. His crews were working double shifts trying to get them completed, but they needed more time.

  As he thought about the weapons, he brought up the manufactories’ schedules. Everyone wanted everything right now to get ready for the imminent battle. There had been some jockeying of the schedule that had led to…inefficiencies before Aleksandra had put her foot down. The particle beam weapons he needed were second in line after a massive drone production run that was currently in place. While he didn’t know how many drones he’d need to have “enough,” he knew the thousands that were being produced would be extremely helpful. As helpful as the twenty particle beam weapons would have been? Walker shrugged.

  If they were lucky, the Merc Guild wouldn’t show up right on the heels of the Human fleet. He doubted Peepo would give him the extra time he needed to prepare, however, and he had alternate contingencies in place if the weapons weren’t available in time. It was all about having good prior planning—luck was never a factor.

  * * *

  Pesqueiro Arujá, North East of São Paulo, Brazil, Earth

  Splunk watched the flyer pass half a kilometer to the south. An unarmored scout; the Besquith crew was visible through the windscreen. It would have been childishly easy to neutralize it. Shadow tracked the craft’s passage through the scope on her laser rifle. The weapon had started as a heavy Oogar infantry weapon but had been unwittingly donated by its former owner and repurposed as a sniper weapon. Once you stripped all the extra junk down to the essentials, it was manageable. Only just, though.

  “Say the word,” Shadow said. Her sharp teeth gleamed as she smiled in anticipation of the kill.

  “No,” Splunk said. Shadow cast her a baleful stare. “We don’t need to alert them to our zone of operation.”

  Dante nodded his head in agreement from where he was helping prepare the meat for their meal. “She’s right,” he said. “Give it a rest.” Shadow grumbled but lowered her weapon. “Food will be ready in a few minutes.”

  The house they occupied was empty, and it had been so for a long time. Splunk wasn’t used to the kinds of residences Humans preferred, having lived with Jim the whole time she’d known his species. She looked around the dwelling and crinkled her nose in distaste. It was large by her own race’s scale; however, it stank and was in terrible condition. Maybe it was abandoned because of that. She didn’t know. It was one of hundreds in a neighborhood occupying the side of a hill, which was why they’d chosen it.

  “Peanut and Sandy coming in,” Ryft called over the tiny radios they all wore in their long sensitive ears. She was two houses further up the hill, carefully hidden in overwatch, observing anyone who approached their hideout on foot.

  “Noted,” Dante said.

  Splunk took her pistol, moved to the door, and waited silently. Despite what anyone on overwatch said, procedure was to observe the facts for yourself before letting anyone in. An overwatch could be eliminated quietly and then impersonated, just like they’d done with the Besquith two days earl
ier.

  Watching through a tiny hole in the door, she saw two small, fast-moving figures loping down the alleyway. Both were heavily burdened with loaded packs and were carrying Dusman-sized rifles at the ready.

  “Confirmed,” she said and unbolted the door. The defenses they’d set up wouldn’t stop anything determined to get in. Stopping an attacker wasn’t the intention of the improvised bolts and braces they had emplaced on the entrances, only slow down an intrusion and give the Fae time to respond. She gave a “hurry up” gesture, and the two scouts dashed inside. She secured the door behind them.

  “Set a drone and come in,” Dante said to Ryft. A single click of the radio came in reply, indicating she was on the way. He turned to the newly returned pair. “Any problems?”

  “We saw some Humans,” Peanut said.

  “They didn’t see us,” Sandy said and winked.

  “Did you have to kill them?” Splunk asked.

  “No,” Peanut said. “They were fishing at that lake on the other side of the hill. Lots of boats and stuff everywhere, but hardly anyone was around.”

  Splunk nodded and gestured to the bags they carried. “What did you find?”

  They opened their bags to show a vast array of electronics, tools, miscellaneous parts, and spices.

  “About time,” Dante said, scooping up the spices and heading back to the cooking area.

  “Nice,” Ryft said and scooped up an electronics repair kit. They all took some of the parts and began working on their equipment while Dante continued meal prep.

  Peanut then took a small device out of his pouch. “This is interesting.”

  Splunk leaned in to look at what he had. It was a small drone. A tiny electronic scrambler had been attached because the drone was still active, though disabled. Unlike their own drones, this one was purposefully designed, obviously one of many similar. It was likely mass produced, or at least a run from a manufactory. She moved closer and examined the construction.

  “Human made,” she said after a second. “Not terrible—in fact, it’s better than most of the Human-made junk.”

  “It looks like some kind of insect,” Sandy said, taking apart a piece of equipment.

  “A dragonfly,” Splunk explained. “They’re native to parts of Earth, including around Houston.”

  “Why copy an insect?” Peanut asked.

  “Camouflage,” Dante snapped. “Don’t be stupid.” Peanut nodded and looked nonplussed.

  “Where’d you find this?” Splunk asked. “Did it transmit details before you scrambled it?” she asked after Peanut told her.

  “I can’t be sure,” Peanut replied.

  Splunk stared at the immobile machine and scratched her chin. After a minute, she stuffed it into a tiny box, leaving the scrambler in place. She’d have to decide what to do about it later. An hour later, she checked her watch. She’d taken to wearing one some time ago; it helped keep her in sync with the different hours preferred by Humans. It was minutes from the 60-hour mark of their last contact with Seldia.

  “Almost time,” she told them. Everyone stopped what they were doing and joined her in the center of the filthy home. Dante touched the controls for the various drones the Dusman had out, setting them from observation to sentry, and they all joined hands.

  Splunk said across the depths of space.

  the K’apo replied. She was waiting this time.

 

 

  They were ready to provide the data, and Splunk gave it to her.

  This time there was a pause.

 

 

  The five Dusman looked at each other. They’d only obtained small amounts of intel via the stolen Besquith comms. Shortly after they’d killed the Besquith and taken their gear, the enemy coordinators had changed the comms encryption. This wasn’t a challenge for Splunk, who simply broke the new encryption within minutes of finding it changed. The comms gave them intel on movements of units searching for them, but precious little else.

 

  The connection ended.

  “I hate the damned K’apo.” Dante spat and went back to the cook fire. The house had a central cooking pit, which served their purpose. Dante had salvaged a power input and put it to work as a heated grill. He put several pounds of meat on the waiting skewers.

  The drones showed nothing more than a few, small, local four-legged creatures smaller than the Dusman. Splunk identified them as cats and screened them off the drone’s recognition profile. There was no need for overwatch at that time, so everyone grabbed skewers and began roasting meat. The house was quickly filled with the odor and sizzle of cooking flesh.

  “Too bad it won’t taste as good as it smells,” Peanut said, and the others nodded.

  “The seasoning will help,” Dante said.

  It only took a minute before they were taking skewers off the heat and tasting the meat.

  “Ugh,” Splunk said. The meat was incredibly strong and oily, just like she’d expected. Her stomach roiled in complaint, and she reached for the hot spicy seasoning, adding a large amount. “Disgusting.”

  “What do you expect from Oogar?” Shadow asked.

  Splunk glared at him darkly.

  “There are some Humans nearby,” Shadow persisted.

  “No,” she said. “We’re here to help these beings, not eat them.”

  “Only as long as their interests correspond to ours,” Dante said.

  Splunk looked at the ancient one-eyed warrior then gave a slow nod.

  “We can’t risk ourselves for the minor races if they don’t advance our own interests,” Sandy added.

  “I don’t need to be lectured,” Splunk said, and they ate in silence. Splunk detested the meat, but she ate it anyway. It was doubly important just then. Peanut looked up from his meal at her and gave a tiny wink. She smiled and went back to the food. It was what it was. It wasn’t like the Oogar needed the meat anymore, anyway. She would worry about the dragonfly drone later.

  * * * * *

  Chapter Four

  Near Shipyard #2, Winged Hussars Prime Base, New Warsaw System

  Lieutenant Commander Aleksandra Kowalczy fumed in her seat aboard Shuttle 322-A as they entered coast. She had much better things to be doing than flying around inspecting warships. She wouldn’t be inspecting warships if they were working properly.

  The traffic patterns were chaotic, and she was glad not to be piloting. Her scores at the academy were better than average, but that had been many years ago. New Warsaw’s red giant star sported an asteroid belt which was simply massive. Home orbited on the edge of it with thousands of asteroids within easy reach. Many were mineral rich, as well.

  Those same asteroids also made navigating around Prime Base an intermittent nightmare.

  Aleksandra has seen old 2D movies from Earth—science fiction movies—where asteroids were so close together their distance wasn’t measured in kilometers but meters. It was ironic New Warsaw was more like the bad science fiction than most systems in the galaxy.

  The academy used the asteroid field as a sort of proving ground—young pilots flew through the chaotic field to hone their navigational skills; the Cromwell twins famously were nearly expelled from the academy a dozen times for it. The most infamous was a typical Cromwell twin dare race through the asteroid field that resulted in a mangled shuttle and a furious academy dean. Had they been anyone other than the Cromwell twins, they would have surely been expelled. All things being equal, Aleksandra would have been thrilled to stay out of t
he asteroid field entirely.

  “Coming clear of the field,” her pilot said. She gave a terse nod. She’d passed on the second seat up front despite it being her due. The young woman probably knew how uncomfortable she was, and Aleksandra didn’t want to make the pilot nervous as she flew through the asteroids. Aleksandra wasn’t trained or qualified for the job foisted upon her. If there was someone—anyone—more qualified to do it, she would have gladly handed off the responsibility.

  She watched the display from her seat in the rear of the shuttle as the craft flipped over and began slowing. The camera showed a view of the approaching shipyard complex. One of four, they were placed in an orbital zone within the massive asteroid belt which was relatively clear of rocks. A fleet of tiny robots kept it that way.

  This shipyard, like the other three, sported a nearly finished Steed-class battlecruiser. The one they were approaching was the most completed of the four, soon to be christened EMS Sphinx. The brand-new ship had yet to get her Hussars customary black-and-gold coloring at key points, though her name was stenciled on the bow, printed on either side of the two one-terawatt particle accelerator barbettes.

  Moored nearby was Hippogriff. She’d been towed back from the battle at Talus in terrible shape. All but one of her reactors were destroyed, and she had severe structural damage. The ship’s crew had been devastated. Most of the engineering and damage control crews had been killed. Ship-wide, she’d suffered 45% losses, including half the CIC personnel. Captain Corder was in critical condition and had been evacuated to Prime Base.

  The plan had been to refit Hippogriff and have her ready for the Earth battle. Unfortunately, after the shipyard personnel evaluated her, it had been decided she was too damaged to have her operational in the time available. Since then, she’d lay at moorage, ignored and all but forgotten. As Aleksandra stared at the wreck, she thought she saw some flashes. Had someone ordered work to be done on her? She wondered. She almost picked up her slate to check when the pilot spoke up.