The Camouflage's commanding officer, Spear Commander Kolosi, met War Commander Xian Karrh at the main lock. He wore the same uniform that his superior did, except that his gem was red. Though mutually respectful, both officers were wary as well, since no Dodvalian truly trusts anyone else. "Greetings, War Commander... We welcome your presence".
This at least was true, since Kolosi had been waiting for two complete ship cycles, two dangerous ship cycles, and looked forward to leaving the sector as soon as he could. The cloaking technology was good, but so were Confederate sensors, and there were plenty of patrols.Kolosi assumed subordinates would welcome his presence and ignore the greeting. "Did the torpedo arrive on schedule? Were you able to capture it?"The questions were logical enough, especially in light of the ship's mission, but that didn't prevent Kolosi from resenting the manner in which they were framed.What? The War Commander thought nothing of the skill reThey shared a number of interests, one of which was marine biology. Sophie paid close attention as Six described the manner in which the Founder, Dr. Hosakawa, had sterilized Alpha 001's oceans and seeded them with what she called genetic "maxotypes".It seemed that the indigenous species, few of which had survived, were a source of fascination for Six. He had established an extensive collection of native fossils and dreamed of bringing some back to life via the same science used to kill them. Genetic engineering.Then it was Sophie's turn, and the politician listened in rapt fascination as the executive described the Cynthia Harmon Center for Undersea Research, the Say'lnt named Shola, and the plan to seed the southern oceans with iron particles. A plan that, like so many things, was on hold due to civil unrest.It was at that point that Six looked as if he wanted to say something, seemed to think better of it, and shook his head. "I'm sorry so many were hurt... but glad y
The Thraki Armani was more than five thousand ships strong. They formed an enormous three dimensional diamond, which, when threatened, would morph into a globe with the arks at its core and warships all around.Consistent with the fact that the Thraki had no home world beyond the one mentioned in ancient legends, and needed to do everything they could to simplify the manufacture, repair, and maintenance of their ships, they allowed themselves only five types of vessels.There were moon sized arks, on which most of the civilian population lived, worked, and eventually died; supply ships, which carried the raw material required to sustain the Armani; and three types of warships, including battle ships, destroyers, and fighters.The fleet had been traveling through space for more than a millennium and would continue forever. Or would it?The Facers, so named because of their desire to put an end to the journey and "face" the Shem, had become even more powerful of la
It made no difference. Activity equaled threat. Alarms sounded, messages flew, and fighters arrowed away.The cloaking technology that protected the interceptors had been stolen from a race called the Guffu, and, barring the possibility that the target had something even better, would allow the attack craft to approach undetected. Skene wished the pilots well.* * *The moon called Two Ball was not all that different from Earth's moon, to which humans compared all other moons, since it had been their first step to the stars.Small when compared to the planet below, it not only lacked an atmosphere but was covered with overlapping impact craters. Angelina steered the utility vehicle toward a large depression. The surface dropped away and rose on the other side.The prefab equipment blister had been erected with help from Gethro's legionnaires. It was nearly invisible against the dark gray background. A tone plus a single red beacon guided the cyborg in.
Some rather sophisticated communication equipment had been incorporated into Angelina's body, and she switched it on. The most commonly used military frequency rattled with static. The Bund Oron was under aattack! The system had been right from the beginning. Shit!Angelina tried to make contact, realized it was useless, and entered the lock. Oxygen was removed, time seemed to slow, and the technician started to swear. It was a long series of linked profanities that even Sergeant Jona would have been proud of.But then, somewhere in the middle of it all, the words turned to prayer - "please God, please God, please God", over and over again. It was all she could do.* * *The Bund Oron lurched as still another enemy missile hit the shields, pushed them to the edge of failure, and dissipated the release energy. Lieutenant Commander Cux had responsibility for the station but not the legionnaires. He grabbed a console and yelled to make himself
The ship dropped hyper, a new set of constellations appeared on the screens, and the standard drives cut in. The destroyer's control room was small and cramped, but the commanding officer had slotted Sophie into an empty seat and narrated each stage of the jump. Something she didn't require, but didn't have the heart to refuse.The executive listened as orders were passed, marveled at the extent to which the military could turn even the most mundane activity into a ritual, and considered the task ahead.Some progress had been made during her stay on the Unioncity, especially where new alliances were concerned, but there was a long way to go. That was why she had begged her uncle to let her stay and help.He had refused by pointing to the fact that if their efforts were successful, there would need to be some sort of dictatorship. The first fifty years of the industrialist's life had been spent under imperial rule, and he had no desire to repeat the experience.To counter
One of the toadies offered Usmos a wireless microphone whispered something in his ear, and stepped out of the way. Conscious of the video cameras, the entourage looked suitably respectful.An announcer read from a carefully prepared script. Usmos stepped out where he could be seen and took a moment to admire the size of his audience. His image blossomed on three enormous screens. Halfhearted applause ripped through the crowd.The odds were that the Radio Free Earth's fly cameras were covering the event as well, which was all to the good, since that would extend the breadth of Usmos' coverage. Dozens of black-clad troops appeared at the exits as he brought the microphone to his lips. The crowd stirred uneasily. "Greetings. Thank you for taking time out of your busy lives to attend this gathering."Most of you are law abiding citizens. Thanks for your support. Others, and you know who you are, belong to the so-called resistance or, if not active yourselves,
The ground shook as the newly reinducted cyborgs marched past. Three had expired during the flight to Bajoti, six died while being transferred into their new bodies, and eighty nine were declared unfit for duty.The rest turned in response to an order, formed a column of twos, and marched the length of runway 1G.Marco held his salute as yet another Confederate flag drew abreast of the makeshift review stand and felt a variety of conflicting emotions.It was good to see these veterans, to have their strength to call on, but sad nonetheless. How many of these same cyborgs would die cursing his name? Wishing he had left them buried in the past? There was no way to know.A bugle sounded, a flight of six fighters roared overhead, and the troops marched on. * * * The safe house was buried in south Los Angeles. It belonged to a sympathizer who worked for the government. Water poured into the tub, and the bathroom filled with steam. It billowed, eased toward the
The command car circumnavigated the bomb crater, lurched through a drainage ditch, and growled onto the much abused highway. A lizard raised its head, took exception to what it saw, and scuttled away.Admiral Tyson Salom felt her butt leave the seat and was grateful for the lap belt.Colonel Bay Marco glanced in her direction and grinned."Nice one point landing, Admiral... sorry about the road"."The name is Salom... and I'll settle for any kind of landing that I get to walk away from"."So noted", Marco said cheerfully. "Now hang on. The road gets worse before it gets better".The legionnaire's words proved prophetic. The vehicle topped a rise, granted a glimpse of blue, and plunged into a gully. It took the better part of twenty minutes to fight their way through a dry river bed, up a series of ancient switchbacks, and along the side of a heavily eroded cliff. Tool marks left more than two hundred years before could still be seen.But then, just as Salom was