Marcus Doug Douglas stepped out of his cabin, paused to ensure that the hatch was locked, and stepped into traffic. It was brisk and carried him along.
Earth, and the restoration of a legal government, were yesterday's news aboard the Unioncity, where most sentients were focused on both the problem and opportunities posed by the newly arrived Thraki.Many of the passersby recognized Doug Douglas and said hello. His elevation from historical curiosity cum lobbyist to planetary governor had raised his status from the C list to the B list, which he shared with other notable but nonvoting politicos.There was a stir ahead, and traffic parted to allow someone through. Doug Douglas spotted a Midvalian war drone and knew who would follow.Senator Vaano, along with Ambassador Ishimoto-Seven and Sensor Ishimoto-Six, had spent less than an hour in custody prior to being released on their own recognizance.Then, in the wake of vaguely worded apologies from their respecDoug Douglas, already stunned by the magnitude of what was almost certainly coming their way, felt a terrible sense of hopelessness as the Thraki politician described how her race planned to sacrifice the Confederacy forces to the Shem and then, if convenient, turn and destroy them.But only if they fell for it. It was the Sector's hope that once the Confederacy knew about the Shem, they would force the Armada to resume its nomadic ways - something that would make Sector 14 and the rest of her party very happy.Doug Douglas listened, nodded, and asked the obvious question. "It's my understanding that you have approximately five thousand ships, all under Facer control. In addition to that, your race fortified one of our planets. How would we force the Armada to leave?"The Thraki hoped there would be a way, but wasn't sure what it would be.The human looked at the Dodvalian. Understanding jumped the gap. Nothing was safe. Everything was at risk. Death roamed the stars, an
The sun rose blood red, threw shadows towards the Pacific, and bathed the campus in soft pink light. Colonel Marco "Bay" Dooley III left the BOQ, savored the crisp morning air, and looked across the quad. He was a tall man with his mother's steady gray eyes and his father's rangy body. The tan stopped at his collar. He nodded to a civilian and stepped onto a carefully maintained path.The pavement was barely wide enough to accommodate four people running side by side, abreast, or two columns of two, which was the way that cadets moved from place to place. Just one of the methods by which they were taught to follow orders, work as a team, and focus on group objectives.The administration building, also known as Tonel Hall, lay directly ahead. His father had been the first person of Zuch descent to enter the academy, carry the class pennant over the rooftops, and collide with a general while making his escape. A story he had heard, what? A hundred times?A company of cadets c
The Conference room was small, no more than twelve feet across, and painted bile green. There were no decorations other than a poorly executed portrait of Captain Jackson Morre and a neatly framed recruiting poster. It showed a trooper II, arms spitting death, with bodies all around. The caption read: "Last to fall". The furnishings consisted of a much abused wooden table, six mismatched chairs, and a government-issue waste paper basket.Sandral Usmos was beautiful in a hard, calculated way. Her hair was blonde, her her eyes were green, and her teeth were white. When she spoke, it was with the manner of someone in the habit of giving orders."Take a break, Bari. I want to speak with my son".Daniel Bari had dark skin and extremely intelligent eyes. They flicked from mother to son. He was a lawyer, one of the best, and worth every credit of his exorbitant fee."Tell him to get his shit together, Sandral, there won't be a second chance".
"The witness may be seated", Page said pointedly. Marco felt blood rush to his face and hurried to comply."Thank you", Page said sarcastically. "Please proceed".Harry nodded and said "yes, sir", turned to Marco. "Please give the court your name and rank"."Dooley Marco, Colonel, Commanding Officer, Rim Sector 872"."And the nature of the forces under your command?""I command a mixed battalion consisting of two infantry companies, two platoons of sentient armor, three batteries of artillery, and a headquarters group".Harry nodded agreeably. "And for those not familiar with Rim Sector 872, where is your battalion headquartered?""On Foxybro"."Are all of your troops stationed on Foxybro?"Marco shook his head, "no. We have outposts as well"."Outposts that can be resupplied and reinforced form your headquarters on Foxybro?""Yes, exactly"."
The next two days passed rather slowly. In spite of the fact that he had completed his testimony, there was the possibility that Marco would be recalled. That being the case, he was free to leave the campus so long as he stayed nearby.An autocab carried the officer to AL Patro, the heart of the old city, and the scene of many youthful adventures. The neighborhood opened gradually, like some exotic flower, complete with it's own doubtful perfume.The Legionnaire ordered the vehicle to a halt and walked the familiar streets. Many of his favorite haunts were gone, replaced by newer establishments, none of which felt the same. Here were the flop houses, cheap restaurants, and bars with names like Hananias Merry, the Corporal's Delight, and the White Jedi.And here too were the Legionnaires themselves, easily identifiable by their short haircuts, regimental tattoos, and flinty stares.Beggars who had fought under alien suns, looked death in the eye, a
The ready room had been painted orange, green, and blue over the last thirty six years and all three layers of paint had started to peel. The names of long gone crew members had been stenciled over empty suit racks and never removed. Not out of respect, or sentiment, but because Jedidia Jyro didn't care.The space armor had clocked more than ten thousand hours and was no longer covered by anything other than carefully applied patches. The warranty was little more than a memory, nobody would write a policy on it, and Jyro was broke.That being the case, the prospector ran the diagnostics twice, mumbled "Good girl" when the read outs came up green, and entered the Pelocan's main lock.The name stemmed from the way the vessel was shaped. Unlike many of the ships owned and operated by Jyro's peers, the Pelocan had actually been designed for mining asteroids, which explained the big beaklike bow.Farther back, roughly halfway down the hull, two pylons extended at right angles
The human shuddered, released his grip on the withered limb, and felt his back hit the inside surface of the chamber. That was where the prospector was, still examining his discovery, when Herbert called. "Sorry to interrupt, but it appears as though a ship is headed our way, ETA three hours, sixteen minutes, and thirty two seconds".Jyro used the Lord's name in conjunction with a swear word, was ashamed of himself, and started over. "Blast! What kind of ship?""Too early to tell", the AI replied. "Looks big, though, judging from the amount of heat".Jyro swore once again. Just his luck... A company ship? Or a pirate? He wasn't sure which he dreaded more. Either would be happy to steal his prize. But not if he could take the drifter aboard, hide among the asteroids, and wait the heathens out.The prospector turned, grabbed hold of the tentacle, and pulled. There was no resistance. The far ends was free. Jyro swore, fired his thrusters, and caromed
There were fewer asteroids now, a fact that allowed Jyro to see his pursuer for the first time. It filed the main screen. He fell through the pit of his stomach. The situation was worse than he had supposed. This construct was as alien as the drifter that occupied his hold, only a lot more frightening!The oncoming vessel had the free-form bulk of a ship never meant for atmospheric use. It consisted of three cylinders, all mounted side by side, and surrounded by a framework of metal. The force field that protected the hull shimmered as rock fragments made contact with it.The human watched aghast as still another asteroid exploded and the alien vessel pushed its way through the resulting debris field.The Pelocan shuddered as alien tractor beams locked onto her hull. The drives screamed as they fought to pull the ship free, and junk avalanched off the control panel.Jyro sat transfixed as garbage tumbled into his lap. The Shem ship, for that's the name