Edge of Solace (A Star Too Far) (5 page)

The alarm chimed. “All hands not on essential duty please report to the commons.”

The room seemed even smaller on the console screen. It looked to be far past overflowing by the time the Captain began. The wide angle view made the room appear circular like they were in a miniature stadium.

“Two days ago the docking stations across the
Lagrange points suffered a grievous assault. Nanite weapons were activated inside seven of our major Naval installations. Four of the major Naval stations around the solar system were hit simultaneously. Two stations survived because the nanites failed to reach critical mass. We have not, as of yet, determined the origin.”

Chins raised and arms crossed. There was a shift of posture among the crew as the news settled in.

“Besides the stations, the losses were minimal. The frigates
Agamemnon, Trident, Sao Paulo
and
Omaha
were destroyed, along with the
Cruiser Brie
. The heavy drop ship
Chicago
was heavily damaged, but the nanites were contained.”

William leaned in closer to the console. He looked at the screen for reactions and saw nothing but stone. The thought that this was a coordinated attack solidified his thoughts on war. This wasn’t just posturing, it was a surprise attack.

“The mission will continue. Life will go on, people. As you can imagine there is a lot happening, most of which I don’t even know.” Captain Khan set the tablet down. She placed her foot on a bench and leaned forward onto her knee. “This will not go unpunished.”

Heads nodded and the commons room relaxed. The tension had been released. Even watching from the bridge William could tell that a shift had occurred. He had sensed the tension, the worry, the unknown.

“Ain’t that da shit,” the petty officer at the nav station murmured.

William looked up. The meager bridge crew were all watching the same thing. He tabbed over and scanned the local readout.

The display was like a spoked wheel. Ships trajectories were spindly strands of light coming or going. The delicate tracks led to either planets, or one of the remaining Lagrange stations. Wide orbital tracks traced the residences of the asteroid mines. The solar system teemed with life.

The view shifted again as he ran further and found those unmarked spaces. In seafaring day they would have drawn monsters and serpents. He floated the cursor and saw stars with numerical names, stars that hadn’t been explored yet. He felt a tug, a wish to be out exploring.

Before he realized he browsed to Redmond. The data was sparse. Celestials, and a brief paragraph on recent contact. One of the three grav points around Redmond was highlighted in red as a “potential hazard.”

He snapped out of the daydreaming and began to work on the tablet. Captain Khan would be expecting some details and he’d have to get on it
.

The day
-to-day workings of the
Malta
was mostly preordained. The United Colonies Navy laid forth the basics. Watches, rotations, and methods were standardized. The Captain had the power to override these, but it was rare. Watches were rotated every six hours. The ship contained three watches of fourteen per watch.

William focused his energy on approving menus, exercise schedules, and billets.
The
Malta
was functioning before he arrived so he decided to stick with the current setup. One spot of interest was the entertainment ration. The Captain had forbidden nanite narcotics but allowed alcohol.

“Where’d you come from last
, XO?” the petty officer asked William. It took him a moment to acknowledge, he wasn’t used to being called XO.

“Hmm? Last duty station was the
Lawrence
, though I’ve been on Earth a bit.” William decided not to get into the story, he had the watch rotation on his mind. There were a few changes he’d like the Captain to approve.

“Not familiar with that one. I started out on the
Horn
and from there came to the
Malta.
” The petty officer looked quite proud of himself. He tapped at his console and turned back to William. “I was there at Tunis.”

William looked up and smiled. “Career then?”

“Oh hell no sir. I’m gaining points for my veteran’s preference. Then I’ll run a nice barge and make my money hauling.”

William nodded. Most men
who wanted to serve came for the preference. It allowed for colony points, or preference in contracts and bidding. Each year earned more points. Enough points could get you a prime plot on a new colony, or early bids on Naval salvage.

“XO, we’ll be ready to make the blink in fifteen minutes.”

William nodded and tabbed over to the comms system. “Ma’am, we’ll be transiting in fifteen.”

“Very well Mr. Grace, announce final data drop, beam it out. I’ll be up.”

William relayed the message to all hands and watched as the incoming data packet swelled. Before the blink out of the solar system every starship made, and received, a final data dump. The golden age of letter writing had returned.

Captain Khan walked onto the bridge quietly and nodded to William. “Call the ship to stations
, please, Mr. Grace.”

In a short minute every weapon was primed, grav fields were placed online and damage control crews spread out. The sound of bulkheads locking thudded through the ship. Marines appeared as if from nowhere in full body armor and stood watch in the corners. William was impressed how quickly it happened.

The blink was just that, a subtle shift and the starfield was different. The passive scans slowly ticked in as minutes passed by. They were now well past the comet and ice belt known as the Oort Cloud. The ship stood down and they began crossing the first of many interstellar grav peaks.

“Mr. Grace, do you have recommendations?” Captain Khan asked.

“Yes, ma’am.” William stood and walked over with the slate.

“Send them to my console, I’ll review them when I have time,” she said dismissively. Her hands danced on the console.

William nodded slowly. “Very well, ma’am.”

“Your watch is on in four hours
, Mr. Grace,” she said without looking back.

He waited a moment and passed off the bridge
, stewing silently.

The
Malta
settled into a routine of subtle boredom, also known as professionalism. The starship rotated through watches as the inky blackness passed by. Each blink brought them across another gravity wave trough. With it came an even longer transit across the peak.

When the ship exited a blink they would scan passively, followed by an active scan across a wide range of spectrums. The watch would stand ready with systems ready to deploy to defend, or attack.
Normally nothing happened.

The ship was quiet, subdued, relaxed. Every ship took on its own feel. Some were mellow, almost like a civilian freighter
, while others took on a sense of urgency and tension.

Combat only came in two ways. One was immediately after a blink, the second after watching it approach for days, sometimes weeks. The jump engagement was quite rare. Every ship would make a slight course correction followed by a return to course. Following a blink the ship would exit in a slightly different point. The Haydn drive
ignored the starting point as long as the travel was perpendicular to the gravity wave.

The most common style of engagement was two starships eyeing each other like boxers in opposite corners. Depending on velocity it was possible to turn and run, or shift and pass by. Engagements were a fairly rare occurrence, even the largest ship could be
thoroughly destroyed by a small frigate if the velocities and weapons landed just right. Though normally the largest ship with the best shields and largest weapons prevailed.

In the latter case it wasn’t uncommon for two ships to stare each other down for a week. In a few cases
, communications between the two occurred, with almost cheerful banter between the sides. As if each ship wanted to remind the other that vacuum was the most lonely of things.

William settled in slowly. The tone of the Captain traveled through the ship like an oily slick. He found himself on the defensive in nearly every situation as the crew challenged his authority in subtle ways. For if he didn’t have the approval of the Captain
, why should they obey?

The main console that hung above the bridge showed simple icons for the status of the ship. Functioning systems were a bright green, systems that were on standby a dim yellow, with offline systems red.

Each of the watch stations would contain more in depth information about each subsystem, although the officer of the watch would focus on simply the main screen and request information if more was needed.

The remainder of his time was spent learning the routines and rituals required by Captain Khan. For one hour per watch she required all shipboard entertainment to be turned off. A single hour of “quiet” time was observed.

William, at first, bristled against the practice but found it to be quite relaxing in the long run. The day’s tension added to the availability of entertainment was a definite stress multiplier. The stories that came out in that time were quite amazing. The tough part was sorting out the fiction from the truth. Sometimes a story didn’t have to be fact for it to be true.

The commons room was a combination of a small town diner and a sports bar. One section was definitely for eating, while the other was more social, relaxed, with couches and plush chairs. On the far wall a single large screen flickered with images. A pack of Marines were jeering at the screen with slender controllers in their hands.

William sat at a small aluminum table and spooned down his dinner. The rice like bits of pasta were particularly satisfying with fresh shiitake mushrooms grown in engineering. He couldn’t help but eavesdrop on a booth of petty officers sitting across from him.

“So I’m sitting in Sydney watchin’ the Redmond clock and they shows the new star. Bugger is a damn long ways off. Ya know,” Thomas Greer cocks his head and shrugs. “I get the message and off I go, two year rotation.”

“What colony?”

“Well
, we only knew it by the number, GJ and a bunch.”

“I didn’t know of any recent ones that went to GJ anything
.”

“This is my story
, yes? You weren’t even in training yet.” He paused. “So, we pack up and blink through seven star systems.”

“Wait, last time it was five?”

“
My
story!
My
story! Just sit and listen, eh?”

William glanced around and saw others watching. It was more than just looks of passing curiosity.

“We go, and we go, and we go. We’ve got a freighter of the old style fuel pellets following that cut loose two thirds of the way. They gonna sit and wait, wait for us.” He cleared his throat. “We blink into the star system and there it is, a beautiful blue and green marble. There’s an elevator, there’s a spectrum from the planet showing nice O2, there’s even a delicate little moon. Nice, eh?”

“What was the name of this colony again?”

Greer continued ignoring the question. “So we ping ‘em, nothing. We blink in closer and ping again. Nothing. Maybe the comms are out, or maybe it didn’t work. Then we blink closer and slowboat our way in.”

The room was now silent, even the Marines had stopped the game and were listening to Greer.

“The Marines gear up and we dock. Colony ship looks fine. They pop the doors and head on in. She’s empty, the usual, whoever was on the ground has everything. The seal is still on the elevator, no one went down.” Greer spread his hands apart slowly for effect.

“How did you know they just didn’t seal it back up?” Tinibu asked.

Paulo interceded. “Once the colonists go down they can’t go back up. The final load brings the elevator up and they’re stuck until the eighty years pass.”

“As I was saying, we break the seal and the Marines go down. Gun drones, this was before they had striders like they do now. They pop the doors on the ground and,” Greer clap
ped his hands together. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?” Tinibu ask
ed.

“Not a person. Not a cow. Now a single animal. The colony modules are laid out. The buildings are built, the terraforming is rolling, and there isn’t a soul in sight.”

“Bodies? Must’ve been bones or something?” Punjav asked.

“Nope. Nothing. The Marines spread out, they’re all quarantined on the planet now. Ain’t no on going up
’til they know what happened.”

“What’d they do yo?”
a Marine PFC named Kelton asked.

Greer l
eaned back in the booth and spread his arms out. “They searched. Whoever came down unloaded everything. They popped the shelters, opened the containers, and did, well, something. But poof—gone, man. Gone.”

“That’s it?” Tinibu asked excitedly.

“Yeah, that’s it. The Marines came up and got the most thorough medical exam ever and we left.” Greer shrugged. “We leave and they seal up that colony ship, robot welder crawled onto every seam and torched them all shut. We dropped a beacon and blinked our way back.”

“You’re full of shit
, Greer,” Punjav said.

Greer shrug
ged and smiled. “Take it or leave it, eh? I’m telling you, though.” He sat at the table and picked at something stubborn in his teeth. He definitely looked smug as eyes were still on him.

William walked over to the edge of the galley and dropped off his platter. Paulo stood nearby waiting for his food. “Paulo
, right?”

“Hmm? Yes
, sir?”

“Is that story bullshit?”

Paulo looked back to Greer and smiled slightly. “The details always change, but he swears it’s the truth.”

“And what do you think?”

“I think he likes telling that story.” Paulo turned and picked up a large cup. “Now if you’ll excuse me, sir.”

The sounds slowly edged back to rowdy as the Marines continued the game. William watched. The Marines were devilishly overseeing the AI and giving the Army one hell of a battle.

“XO?” Greer asked with a slight smile.

William looked up. “What is it
, Greer?”

Greer
scanned his table with a mischievous eye. “Any opportunity for some shore time when we arrive on Canaan?”

William chuckled and shook his head. “I’m not sure how much excitement you’ll find.”

Greer wrinkled his nose. “What do you mean, sir?”

“The colony is mostly Western Anabaptists and Maronite Christians.”

Greer blinked with his mouth open. “Western Anabaptists? Maronites?”

“One is an offshoot of the Amish, the other a sect of Orthodox Christians,” William replied.

Greer looked back around his table with a look of pure sadness. “Do they drink?”

William shrugged. “I’m not quite sure. Can’t say I know much about either. But in regards to shore leave
, I’ll speak with the Captain.”

Greer sighed.

“Don’t worry Greer, you can always make up a good story about not getting drunk on a planet you didn’t get to visit, right?” Punjav said.

Greer glared back and sunk into his seat.

*

The suit stunk of old sweat and the tang of polyester worn a few times too many. It was held rigid as if a giant weight was strapped to it. Yamaguchi pushed and tried to stretch his arms and legs
, feeling nothing but leaden deadness. His display winked red and told him in no uncertain terms that he was dead.

With a final ominous tone the simulation ended. The joints relaxed and the suit became flexible once more. The results scrolled across the screen and it wasn’t pretty. His landing team had, once again, been trounced by a combination of the AI and the Marines in the commons area. Publicly trounced.

He was glad the comms weren’t open. His breath slowed and he pushed the anger back. This was new to everyone. “Let’s do it again, keep your range from the striders, ignore the infantry, and push towards the objective. Stay in pairs, dammit—that’s you Kowalski, just like without the suits. Got it?”

It felt almost right inside the suit, almost like the feedback really worked properly. But it didn’t. Everything was out of sync by just a moment, a fraction of a second, enough to hit walls or miss targets. He couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t the simulation and was the suits themselves.

The command screen flickered by and he engaged the simulation. It counted down and he was on the ground, moving through high grass and pushing towards the objective. For now it was a red icon that burned on the edge of the map.

The sound of breathing and an occasional curse was all that was heard. The coordination in the squads was visible to each on the overhead display. A combination of implanted hardware and nanites linked and displayed everyone. Details were rendered and cover highlighted.

From the outside each of the armored suits were suspended from heavy cordage. The same mechanisms that propelled them on the ground offered resistance and feedback for a very real simulation. They swayed and danced like marionettes of a deadly purpose.

“Launch the first flight of drones
,” Yamaguchi ordered. He keyed the order with his eyes. The back of the suit shuddered. A stream of drones popped out and disappeared. Each of the drones winked and a window opened. Now he had eyes, but more than he could watch.

“Swing in past that warehouse
, LT, good cover on the other side,” Sergeant Bale said.

Yamaguchi scanned the display quickly and saw the cover. He shifted his slow loping gait and tucked in along a corrugated warehouse. The drones ebbed above and displayed the top, the sides, and around the corner. All was clear.

The squads moved up in a seesaw motion in front of him. Pairs of the suits struggled in bursts of speed before holding a moment. He ticked paths, spots, orders, all silently.

“Movement, G5
,” Sergeant Craig called out in a low monotone.

A yellow icon winked on
Yamaguchi’s display. He watched from Craig’s suit and saw the form of a Strider duck back inside of a building.

“Torch it.” He continued forward.

“On the flank!” Corporal Paco cried.

The first of the friendly icons faded from green to a dull red.

“First squad wheel over and reinforce that edge!” He took a deep breath and dispatched a drone. There was a gap coming in the center. He set the waypoint marker and passed through the industrial landscape to reach it.

They had a simulation of what the surface of Canaan looked like, as accurately as a full LIDAR scan was capable of. Rocks, hummocks, and even garbage dumpsters were all in the proper location
s.

A shallow canal ran like a gash across the landscape. Gritty yellow weeds clung tenaciously to the edge with chunks of concrete stuck on the edge.
The only cover was an old retaining wall sheathed in chain link and cobble.

“Where are they?” Craig asked.

Yamaguchi bit his lip and watched. The drones ranged over and around without sighting anything. The lone strider they had seen was, he assumed, smoked. The left flank dodged outwards and searched for whatever had taken Paco.