Spacers empire space, p.27
Spacers: Empire Space, page 27
Thatcher glared at the man, but the spy didn’t even have the decency to notice. Mittelman was too busy studying a tiny gray bird sitting on a fallen trunk a dozen meters or so ahead.
“This is hardly nature,” Thatcher said. “We planted this forest here, nearly a century ago.”
“And here we’ve made a lovely park of it. It’s just like us, isn’t it? We can’t let things simply be what they are. We need to put roads and trails through them, and tramp all over them, even if our aim was to mimic Earth’s nature as closely as possible.”
Thatcher sniffed. “What’s the point of planting a forest if you’re not even going to enjoy it?”
The spy made a noncommittal sound, coming to a stop at the side of the trail, still studying the bird.
Thatcher drew level with him, also stopping. “That’s a…starling?”
“A dark-eyed junco. At least, that’s what we’re to believe it is.” He squinted at Thatcher. “You know starlings looks nothing like that, right?”
He shrugged. “What do you mean, ‘that’s what we’re to believe?’”
“I mean that surveillance drones come in many shapes and sizes. They could be housefly-shaped, for example. Or junco-shaped.”
“You think someone’s spying on us? I thought that was the entire reason you wanted to talk out here. To avoid bugs.”
“It is much harder to monitor our conversation here. But not impossible. And if someone is going to the necessary lengths, then at least that tells us something.” He pointed at the bird. “As for this ‘creature,’ it seems awfully tolerant of humans standing so near.”
Thatcher took a rapid step toward the thing, and it flitted away through the trees. “Shit.”
“Good work. Now we’ll never now.”
“How were you planning to find out before it flew? Ask it?”
“Come on.” Mittelman folded his hands behind his back and continued down the trail.
A silence stretched between them, and Thatcher relished it. The time he spent captaining the Jersey was many things, but peaceful wasn’t one of them.
Not normally, anyway. The journey back to Tempore had been fairly uneventful, though extremely tense. In every system, Thatcher couldn’t help monitoring each jump zone obsessively—even the ones ahead, as though Degenerate Empire ships were liable to pop into the space in front of them at a moment’s notice.
Looking back, it didn’t seem like much of a surprise that the pirates hadn’t seemed to give chase at all. After Thatcher’s Hellfire barrage had caused them to scatter, in direct defiance of Vega’s orders, it had likely been challenging for the man to exert command authority to the extent he had before.
Between that and the damage Wilson had inflicted before going down, Thatcher had no doubt he’d left the pirate armada in complete disarray. That brought him a measure of satisfaction—but not nearly enough to compensate for the loss of the dearest friend he’d had in the Dawn Cluster.
Rose and Wilson, in the space of a couple months. He still couldn’t believe they were gone.
After they’d reached Tempore, a choice confronted Thatcher: return to Dupliss to confront the UNC, or head east through Gabelle, and then south through Iberis, skirting the Cluster’s farthest reaches.
He’d chosen the latter, and prayed he was making the right decision. Returning to Freedom System seemed like folly. He wasn’t about to take Rose’s place and attempt to resurrect Frontier. Even if he’d been willing to try, he doubted the UNC would allow him to succeed.
“What if I told you,” Mittelman said without turning, “that the future of the Dawn Cluster lay not in the south, but in Quisle Region?”
“Quisle is in the south.”
The spymaster shot him an annoyed glance over his shoulder. “Yes, but it’s only accessible from the middle of—” He shook his head sharply. “You know what I mean.”
“You’re under the impression that I believe the future lays in the south, then?”
“That is where you’re headed, isn’t it?”
“Says who?”
Mittelman shook his head in apparent exasperation. “Says process of elimination, Thatcher. You just left Penta territory, and somehow I doubt you’ll head to the cold regions next, where the UNC will put you through endless bureaucratic hell. And I really doubt you’re headed to make nice with Moll in CoG territory. So that leaves Ascendant Horizon.”
“If I wanted to go there, why wouldn’t I have headed south from Modal Pique? That would have been the quickest route.”
“Because I asked you to meet me here.”
Thatcher laughed. “You really think I’d divert an entire fleet just to meet with one man?”
“When that man is the reason that fleet wasn’t blown into the next century by Degenerate Empire? Yes, I think you just might. I think you feel like you owe me, and I doubt this meeting will make you feel much less indebted.”
“Wow, Mittelman. You’re just full of assumptions this morning.”
“If I’m wrong, then tell me why you did come to Aorta.”
“I didn’t say you were wrong.”
The spymaster turned to face forward a moment too late to conceal the smile that had sprouted on his lips.
“Why don’t you tell me why you think Red Sky is the future, of all corps?” Thatcher asked. “Since you’re clearly dying to.”
“Because they burn with the same thing you do. The thirst for vengeance. And like yours, I suspect it will take a lot for their thirst to be quenched.”
“A thirst for vengeance isn’t much good without the means to quench it.”
“They have the means. Or rather, they will. And in the meantime, they’ve already managed to repel Penta Syndicate twice more, after waging the battle everyone’s calling the Miracle of Unknown Regard.”
“So they’ve repelled them from the single system they hold. That still doesn’t leave them with much.”
“Unknown Regard is not just any system. Until very recently, it was Galactic Minerals’ main site of operations. They maintained a planetary corporate colony there of middling size, complete with its own agriculture, and dozens of their facilities are scattered throughout the system. They abandoned it all just a year ago, forced to flee by the increasingly aggressive pirate presence in the area. Once the wormhole collapsed, everything went to shit for them. You know how that goes.”
“So Red Sky has food, power, and equipment. That’s something. But it won’t be enough to hold off Penta forever.”
“That’s where I come in.”
Thatcher raised his eyebrows. “Do tell,” he said dryly.
“Mikhail Volkov doesn’t know it yet, but by standing up to Penta Syndicate, he’s created the perfect opportunity to launch a little project I’ve had in mind for some time, now. A project Veronica Rose wasn’t willing to go along with.
“Do you realize how terrible Dawn Cluster life has gotten, if you’re a civilian? Think about it. Abandoned by the UNC, who played the role of doting mommy state for so long. Completely at the whim of corps who care for nothing beyond their bottom line. And in many cases, out of a job. With so many disruptions to commerce and trade, the economy has become worthless for anyone who isn’t a PMC.”
“So I’ve heard.”
“What if those people were given a chance to take back some control? To step up to the looming powers that threaten to squash them like bugs, probably without even noticing the sound of their bodies popping underfoot? A chance to meaningfully oppose those ruthless giants?”
“Graphic.”
“What if there existed a PMC willing to take all comers? Rose was never willing to even consider applicants who lacked military training of some kind. Not for combat roles. Same goes for CoG—their whole philosophy amounts to excellence through exclusion.”
“What about Ascendant Horizon? Li runs the thing like a tech startup.”
“He runs his half like a tech startup. But the military branch of the alliance, Verity Guild, is almost as picky as CoG. So who does that leave? Penta’s hiring standards aren’t as high, but they also have one of the most cutthroat reputations in the Cluster. Then there are the corps in the north, but who wants to join a PMC based in the middle of a powder keg? That leaves Degenerate Empire, if you want to count them, and not much of anyone else.”
“Last I checked, Red Sky’s hiring policies are roughly the same as Frontier’s were.”
“That’s because Volkov hasn’t met me yet.”
“What makes you think he’ll be so keen to trust you?”
“Because he’s desperate. And because what I’m selling makes sense.” Mittelman held out his left hand, counting off points on its fingers. “We open the alliance to all comers. We train them. We use nanofabbers to pump out warships as fast as humanly possible. And we take over the Cluster.”
“It sounds so easy when you put it like that.”
When he turned to face Thatcher again, Mittelman’s eyes were afire. “I will make this happen, Thatcher. You shouldn’t doubt me.”
Thatcher met the spymaster’s eyes, and realized belatedly that they’d stopped walking again. “Somehow, I don’t doubt you.”
“Good.”
Mittelman resumed their hike, and Thatcher followed behind. After a few minutes more of silence, the spymaster spoke again. “Honestly, the hardest part will be actually getting to Unknown Regard.”
Here we go. “Let me guess. That’s where I come in.”
“I’ll admit the thought crossed my mind.”
“I bet it did.” Thatcher sighed. “I hope your plan to conquer the Cluster doesn’t involve the fleet I command, Mittelman.”
The spy shrugged. “Having the Hammer join the cause would go a long way. So would the warships you command.”
“Well, there’s the small detail that I have no interest in conquering the Cluster.”
“No, but you do want to destroy CoG. Do you not?”
“Yes,” Thatcher said quietly.
“And if you accomplish that, where do you think it will leave you? Toppling Moll would create perhaps the biggest power vacuum in human history. Someone would need to fill it.”
Thatcher shook his head. “I’m sorry, Mittelman, but right now, Li Jun seems a lot likelier to get me to my goal than you. Besides…Veronica liked him.”
Mittelman winced, then seemed to regain control of his features. “Yes, she liked him, and trusted him. Then he stabbed her in the back.”
“Still. As long as our goals align….”
“You do realize CoG and Ascendant Horizon are still making nice with each other?”
“Don’t tell me you seriously believe that will last. Their nonaggression pact’s days were always numbered. And that number has surely plummeted, now that Li’s unveiled his super-ship. They’ll be at each other’s throats soon.” And the fact that you would pretend otherwise makes me trust you even less than I already did.
Yet another long silence passed between them. When Mittelman spoke again, he sounded almost…defeated. “You’re making a mistake, here. You’ll realize that, sooner or later. I just hope it isn’t too late once you do.”
“I’m sorry, Mittelman. I can only follow the course I consider optimal.”
“Ever the starship captain.”
Thatcher grunted. “How will you get to Unknown Regard System, now?”
“I’ll figure something out.” The spymaster’s words came out bitter, and after he spoke them, an awkwardness settled between them. They walked in silence several minutes more.
Thatcher sighed. I have to give him something. “Emilio Garcia has stealth mines.”
“Oh?”
“Well, he doesn’t have any right now. But he gave me the technology. I’m going to give it to you, to help with whatever you’re planning to do in Unknown Regard System.”
Mittelman seemed to consider this for a few moments. Then, he nodded. “That will help. Perhaps you’ll leave this planet less indebted to me than I thought.”
Two hours later, when they’d finished their hike and returned to the only starport in Rupert’s Colony, Mittelman called to Thatcher as he took his first step down the catwalk that would take him to his shuttle.
“Go easy on Candle,” he said. “Try to look past what he did for me. He’s definitely your ally, with good reason to hate Moll—and to work against him with every fiber of his being.”
Thatcher paused. “I’ll take that under advisement.” With that, he turned and headed toward the shuttle that would lift him to the skies, and return him to the Jersey.
Epilogue
Unknown Location
Unknown Time
Rose glanced across the capsule’s single console at Pascal, who was working at the only other interface. “Any luck?”
He shook his head, his frustration written clearly across his face. Major Avery sat behind him, using his comm to translate for Pascal as needed between the Xanthic script and English.
The marine commander looked about as nonplussed as his corporal. Pascal was trained on most navigational systems, as a precaution against the event that marines needed to secure their own transport after a mission that had gone south.
“I’m about as ready as I think I am going to be, Ms. Rose, to say that this thing has no propulsion to speak of.”
She nodded. “I suppose we should count our blessings. The fact that we stumbled into a capsule capable of surviving the station’s destruction is miracle enough.”
“Kind of a lousy miracle, though,” Sergeant Ermey put in, “if we can’t find a way off this thing before the oxygen runs out.”
That drew a sharp glance from Avery, and Rose studied the sergeant with raised eyebrows. “Are you always this good at keeping up your squad’s morale, Sergeant?”
Ermey turned red, and said nothing.
Rose sighed, then turned to Avery. “Still nothing on any of the comms? No message from the fleet?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Well, I think I have something.” Several of the twenty-four marines who’d made it into the capsule turned their heads toward her. “Not anything that’ll help us with navigation, or escaping, I’m afraid. Just some Degenerate Empire records that suggest something…strange about the station we destroyed.”
She frowned at the display. “According to what I’m reading, the pirates discovered this after the first time they boarded the station. They spent hours investigating its various systems, and installing their own UI over the existing interfaces. Then the station disappeared, leaving the pirates floating in space, though it seems they had the sense to leave their pressure suits on as they worked. Hours later, when the station reappeared, they boarded it again…only to find every modification they’d made erased. It was as if they’d never boarded the station in the first place.”
“How is that possible?” Avery asked slowly.
“I don’t know. But apparently it happened with each cycle of the station’s disappearance and reappearance. And so they learned to reinstall all of their mods as the first thing they did upon reboarding the station. They got pretty efficient at it, it seems—eventually they reached a point where they could just load a specialized data card into each console, which automatically loaded everything they needed.”
“Ma’am,” Pascal said, his words urgent. “Sorry to interrupt, but this seems important. I managed to get sensors online…and I’m not seeing good things.”
Rose got up and circled the console. “Show me.”
Pascal gestured at the display. The first thing she noticed were the stars: there were too few of them. She’d looked through enough optical sensors to gain an intuitive sense of how the surrounding galaxy should look, from pretty much anywhere in the Dawn Cluster’s northern reaches.
“Here.” Pascal tapped the display, which zoomed in on one spot, enlarging a speck until it took on a recognizable shape.
Or rather, a recognizably irregular shape.
“A Xanthic warship,” she said grimly.
Pascal nodded. “And it’s headed straight for us.”
Thank you for reading Empire Space, the fifth book in the Spacers series.
Tap here to get the next book in the series, titled Thatcher’s Gambit
Glossary of Dawn Cluster Corporations
Anvil Incorporated
CEO: Emilio Garcia
In an era of narrowly specialized space-based corporations, Anvil Incorporated stands out as one of the most diversified economic organizations in the Dawn Cluster.
Anvil started life as a mining company with facilities in Unity and Dupliss, but when CEO Emilio Garcia exercised his controlling interest to make the unilateral decision to expand the company into Lacuna, Anvil’s security needs became truly unique. Instead of paying PMCs exorbitant rates to protect operations deep in pirate-ridden territory, Garcia decided Anvil would become a PMC in its own right. He invested a large percentage of the company’s cash reserves into the construction of a small but state-of-the-art military force—a battle group that has since grown into a modest armada.
The fact the company was able to secure its own operations in Lacuna led to enormous profit margins, born from mining the region’s bountiful rare metals and deuterium-rich gas giants, and bolstered by the fact so few competitors had the appetite for risk necessary to operate in such volatile territory. Garcia built on that success by constructing a number of orbital shipyards in northern Dupliss, where he used the resources gathered by Anvil mining ships and purified in Anvil refineries to construct military vessels for other PMCs.
Anvil Incorporated now numbers among the Dawn Cluster’s fifty richest corps, and in the words of its CEO, “We’ve only just begun.”
Celeste Security Solutions
CEO: Selene Williams
The emergence of Celeste Security Solutions represents a number of innovations, for space warfare generally and Dawn Cluster geopolitics specifically.
Celeste’s CEO, Selene Williams, formerly worked as an engineer for Neptune Gases, a startup seeking to disrupt the atmospheric mining industry through its proprietary tropospheric aerostats—buoyant stations designed to weather the harsh conditions of gas giant tropospheres in order to harvest the denser, more valuable gases found there.
