Valiant

[Valiant #19: Interdiction]

Log Date: 1/3/12764

Data Sources: Feroce Acceso, Kiwi, Lucanthiline

Event Log: Feroce Acceso

The Bulwark: Firing Range

4:26pm SGT

“Don’t shoot at where the target is. Shoot at where it will be.”

“Man, what’s that even supposed to mean?” Ridge says, pushing back from his firing stall and waving his stunner over his head. “How’m I suppose to hit a target when it’s twitching like a caffeinated squirrel?”

“Whoa! What have I told you about waving guns around like that?” I say sharply, taking my hands out of my hoodie pockets.

“Sorry.” he says, tilting his stunner down towards the floor as he reaches up to pull his eye protection off. “But seriously, dude? What’s that even mean? Shoot at where it will be?”

“That means leading your shots.” Renchiko says, setting her stunner down as she leans out of her stall. “There’s a delay between the time the pulse leaves the barrel and when it reaches the point that it’s aimed at. The target is moving during that time, so it might not be there by the time the pulse reaches where the target used to be. So if you have a moving target, you figure out which way it’s moving, and aim slightly ahead of it, so that the pulse will hit the place where it’s going to be, not the place that it’s currently at.”

“See, why couldn’t you have said that?” Ridge demands, motioning to Renchiko.

“Renchiko’s partially correct. There’s usually only milliseconds of delay between barrel departure and a projectile arriving at a given point within the effective firing range.” I explain as I reach over to the wall, turning off the range’s holographic target projections. “The larger delay is in the shooter’s reaction time between seeing a target, processing its direction, and the brain sending the command for the finger to squeeze the trigger. That reaction is a fair bit slower than the projectile leaving the barrel and reaching its target — at least at short ranges.”

“Well, her mom was a Challenger.” Ridge sulks, folding his arms. “That’s why she’s so much better at this. She’s practically been training for it her entire life.”

“I’m good at it because I practice. Not because my mom was a Challenger.” Renchiko snaps back at him, pulling her goggles off her eyes and down around her neck.

“It’s not a competition in either case.” I tell both of them. “You’re not training to be better than each other. You’re training to be better than the enemies you’ll encounter in the field. It doesn’t matter if one of you is better than the other; all that matters is that both of you are better than combatants you’ll come up against. And furthermore, what’s more important than all of that is that you have each other’s backs. A team is stronger and more capable than a solo unit. You’ll go a lot further by supporting each other than you will by tearing each other down.”

I can see Renchiko fighting the urge to grind her teeth as I lecture both of them. But she doesn’t talk back, and she glances to Ridge after a moment. “…I can give you some tips later, if you want.”

“Wait, are we done training for today?” Ridge says, looking to me.

“Your training is done. Mine is due to begin in thirty minutes.” I say, checking the time on my phone. “Go ahead and start putting away your stunners. Taking care of your equipment is just as important as knowing how to use it.”

“But what do you need training for?” Renchiko says, already in the process of ejecting her stunner’s power cell so she can start fitting it back in its case. “You’re a Challenger — it’s not like anyone on this station could teach you anything except maybe Jackrabbit.”

“Just because I’m a Challenger doesn’t mean I know everything.” I say, tucking my phone away. “Now that I’m officially Kiwi’s handler, I need to get a feel for what she’s capable of, and how Masklings do things on the battlefield. That way I’ll be able to provide the proper support to her if we’re deployed as a team.”

“Wait, you’re actually her handler now?” Ridge says, looking up from his stunner case.

“On a trial basis.” I say, tucking my hands back in my hoodie pockets. “Forecast allowed it because we have a proven track record when working together. If that continues to be the case, he will allow a longer-term arrangement.”

“So what happens when they get their arkship back?” Ridge asks. “They’re not going to stick around after that. Are you going to keep being her handler?”

“You don’t know that.” I answer patiently. “They might stick around, and they might not. If they do, I’ll continue being her handler. If they leave, I’ll stay with the Valiant Project. Does that make you feel better?”

“A little bit, yeah.” he mutters. “I’m just telling you, dude. She’s trouble.”

“I’m a Challenger. I’m used to dealing with trouble.” I reply curtly. “Make sure you drop your kit back in your rooms. After that, you can go to dinner.”

“Can we watch you train instead?” Renchiko asks as she clicks her stunner case shut.

I blink at her. “Watch me train?”

“Yeah. With Kiwi.” she says, pulling the case off the counter of her firing stall. “I want to see how two professionals do it.”

“Yeah, what kind of training is it supposed to be, anyway?” Ridge piles on, snapping his case closed. “Are you guys just going to be sparring?”

“It will be a general sparring session, yes.” I say, not sure why I suddenly feel uncomfortable. “Showing each other what the other can do.” What I leave unsaid is that I was supposed to learn more about how tangling worked and how it could be used in combat. It’s information that I’ve been looking forward to for a long time.

“I’m not really hungry right now.” Ridge says. “Dinner can wait a bit.”

“Yeah.” Renchiko agrees. “We’ll come watch you, then have dinner afterwards.”

“Alright then.” I say, taking a breath as I tap at the touchscreen, opening the door. “But you two have to stay quiet. I don’t want to be distracted by a peanut gallery while I’m trying to work.”

“Yeah, we’ll be quiet.” Ridge says quickly.

“Mhmm.” Renchiko agrees.

I stare at the two of them, struck with the feeling that as much as these two butt heads sometimes, they can be thick as thieves when their goals align. “Mm. Teenagers pushing back dinner an hour, that’s a first.” I mutter, turning and stepping out of the room. “Let’s go, then. I like to get to scheduled occasions fifteen minutes ahead of time.”

“Are you sure it’s not because you want to see her?” Ridge asks as he and Renchiko follow me out into the dingy halls of the Bulwark.

I glare over my shoulder at him. “Strike one, buster. You get to three—”

“You’ll what, send me to my room?” Ridge says, rolling his eyes.

I narrow my eyes at him. “I’ll tell Sierra you want dating advice.”

Ridge pales at that. “Right. Got it. I’ll, uh… behave.”

“Good.” I say, picking up the stride again.

“Am I missing something?” I hear Renchiko whisper to Ridge once my back is turned.

“Trust me, you’re better off not knowing.” Ridge mutters back to her. “Just be glad you’ve never had a real conversation with the horny vampire.”

“She’s not that bad, is she?”

“Oh, you have no idea. I asked Jackrabbit about her, and she said there’s a reason Sierra’s Challenger callsign was Nympho.”

“Wait, is that supposed to stand for something?”

“Yeah, uh… I’ll tell you later.”

I can’t help but smile at their whispered conversation, held in the scandalous undertones of teenage gossip. The social rush of discussing topics that were at once thrilling, forbidden, and embarrassing if brought up in front of adults. It was cute, but also reassuring in a way.

To see that even on the run from the law and in the darker reaches of the galaxy, teenagers would still be teenagers.

Intercepted Transmission

Hagburt Watchtower Satellite 9 to Hagburt System Control

4:32pm SGT

Satellite 9: Control, this is HWS9. Do you read me?

…

Control: We read you, S9. What’s up?

S9: Did we have any tunnel ships scheduled to arrive at Holeimos roundabout now?

Control: Not that I see on today’s schedule. Do you have an unannounced arrival out there?

S9: Yeah, we’ve got a tunnelspace breach forming out here. It’s outside the perimeter of the Holeimos Station, but uh… yeah. Definitely unusual.

Control: It’s not Collective, is it?

S9: Not by the readings, no. Looks like it’s an artificial breach, not an organic one. You want us to put our interceptor drones on standby?

Control: Yes, go to standby, and dispatch a scout drone. Keep us posted on any developments.

S9: Will do. Here’s to hoping it’s just some knucklehead freighter that forgot to call ahead.

Control: Wouldn’t be the first time. Control out.

Event Log: Feroce Acceso

The Bulwark: Internal Tram

4:36pm SGT

“So the station just… sucks up gas from the planet and sells it?” Ridge asks, staring out the window of the Bulwark’s internal tram. We’re passing through one of the track sections with an open view, allowing us to stare across the surface of the Bulwark, and the planet we’ve stopped at. It’s a cold blue gas giant, and not too distant from us is an orbital installation that’s even bigger than the Bulwark — a gas mining rig that’s been coupled with a local refinery, which in turn has been coupled with a supply station. A pair of interstellar freighters can be seen parked at the station, either fueling up, dropping off supplies, or both. Thin tubes can be seen hanging down from the station, hundreds of miles long and drifting through the uppermost layers of Holeimos’ atmosphere.

“It sucks up gas, but it has to process and refine it before it can be sold.” Renchiko explains from where she’s sitting, arms folded. “It’s a lot more complicated than just vacuuming up gas to sell to people. There are different types of gas, as well. Most of it gets used as fuel for fusion cores, but some gets refined into the gas that gets used in plasma weapons.”

“How do you know all this?” Ridge asks, squinting over his shoulder at her.

Renchiko shrugs. “Stuff you pick up when you’re learning about fusion cores.”

“Why are you learning about fusion cores? You’re seventeen.” Ridge asks, his confusion clearly not dispelled. “Most people don’t learn about that stuff until, like. College, right?”

“Typically.” I say, joining the conversation. “Renchiko wants to be a Titan pilot, though, and mechs are typically powered by fusion cores. So she’s getting a head start on learning about the many different types of systems and sciences that go into a mech.”

“We don’t have any mechs, though.” Ridge points out. “And don’t they cost, like, a bajillion credits?”

“We don’t have any right now, but once Legaci cracks the third layer of the Challenger archive, we’ll have the access codes to the Bastions, and the Bastions may still have mechs in their mech hangars.” I explain. “Plus, the Horizon Breaker is still out there, and she still has a squad of three in her hangar. Once we’re settled into one of the Bastions, we can go retrieve her from where we dark-spaced her.”

“So we can basically get a bunch of mechs for free.” Renchiko concludes. “And then at that point, we just need a garage crew and an ops crew to run them.”

“Easier said than done, but that’s a problem for the future.” I say, nodding to the Holeimos station. “Right now, our focus is on helping the Masklings get their arkship back. I’m just glad they’re footing the bill for our resupply here.”

“So we’re just waiting our turn to fuel up here, then?” Ridge asks, going back to staring out the window at the station.

“We fueled up already, actually. Now we’re just waiting for the station to finalize our supply order and send it over.” I explain. “Mainly food and water, with a few other necessities. You can’t skimp on supplies when you’re taking a trip into the Vorcrueshen.”

“How long are we going to be—” Ridge starts, then looks up when the lights in the tram suddenly change over to an intense orange.

Renchiko sits up a bit straighter, looking around. “Is something happening?”

“I dunno. I don’t know what orange is supposed to represent on the Bulwark. Each mobile fortress has its own lighting codes.” I say, looking around. Nothing seems to be wrong with the tram itself, and we’re still moving, so it’s not a mechanical issue.

“Hey, what are those?” Ridge asks, still looking out the window. I turn to see that he’s pointing to where sections of the Bulwark’s main disk are starting to retract, allowing three massive, long-barreled railguns to start folding out of their housings.

“Those are siege railguns.” I mutter, feeling the stirrings of unease begin in my stomach. Checking around the rim of the Bulwark, I can see the turrets starting to swivel to life as well. “Somebody’s bringing the station’s defenses online.”

“Does that mean we’re about to get attacked?” Renchiko asks, standing off her seat and coming over to the window with Ridge. “I don’t see any ships out there…”

“Even if there were, you wouldn’t be able to see them unless they were between us and Holeimos.” I say as my phone buzzes in my pocket. “Distances in space are so great that you can usually only see ships if they’re in profile against the backdrop of a planet. They’re practically invisible against the cosmic background.” Pulling my phone out, I unlock the screen and check the text I’ve gotten. It’s from Legaci.

Siegebreaker ship just arrived with two Aegis escort cruisers. Grab your stuff and get to the Accatria. Need to evacuate. 10 mins before the first spike hits.

“Holy shit, how big are those guns?” Ridge says, still staring at the Bulwark’s siege railguns. “They’re like. A quarter mile long! What kind of ammo do those even use?”

“Ridge, Renchiko, I need both of you to pay attention.” I say, tucking away my phone. “We’re evacuating. I need you to go to your rooms and pack up any stuff you have, then go to my room and pack up my stuff, and get it onto the Accatria. You are to remain there unless ordered otherwise.”

“Wait, what’s going on?” Renchiko asks as I make my way to the tram’s control panel and select the stop near the living sector.

“A siegebreaker ship with a couple of Aegis escorts just arrived. Legaci has told us we need to evacuate, and I trust her.” I say as the tram starts to slow down. “You will need to be quick. We have perhaps ten minutes before munitions will be exchanged. Pack everything, and get to the Accatria.”

“Wait, what about you?” Ridge demands as we start to come up on the tram stop.

“I need to check in with the Lieutenant and Commander.” I say, turning and grabbing the back of his hoodie as the tram brakes to a halt. Hauling him up, I push him towards the doors as they open. “Renchiko, make sure he stays on task. Pack our things, get them to the Accatria. Those are your orders. Get to it; we’re on the clock!”

“Understood.” Renchiko says, grabbing Ridge’s arm and tugging him off the tram with her stunner case underneath the other arm. “We’ll see you on the Accatria!”

As the doors close again, I set the tram’s next stop for the logistics center, where I know Legaci’s core is stored. As the tram starts moving again, I pull out one of my Crescendo earbuds and turn it on, and tuck it in my ear as I call Legaci. It’s a good seven rings before she picks up.

“This better be good, Songbird. I’m a little busy right now.”

“Yeah, I kinda figured. I’m on my way to the logistics center to pick up your core.” I reply, watching out the window as the massive railguns start to charge up. “Fill me in while I’m waiting to get there. What’s going on?”

“Exactly what I texted you earlier. Siegebreaker dropped out of tunnelspace with a couple of Aegis escorts. The siegebreaker is already starting to charge its cannon and the Aegis cruisers have set up a point-defense perimeter, so you know where this is going.”

“I see you got the station’s defenses up and running, though — can’t we get a few shots off with the siege guns?” I ask. “Hit them before they have a chance to get their big gun up and running?”

“I’m gonna try, but they’re too far away. A siegebreaker has a longer effective range than our siege guns. Anything we fire at them, they’re going to have plenty of time to deploy countermeasures. Their mass cannon, on the other hand, can launch a slab of iron the size of a double-decker city bus in excess of 20,000 mph. Those move so fast our point-defense arrays don’t have time to react effectively, and the projectiles have so much mass that normal interception fire can’t stop them.”

“Can we go to warp?” I ask, wishing the tram moved faster than it was currently going.

“Not the way a ship can. This is a mobile fortress; it’s a superstructure. There’s a hell of a lot more mass to move than there is on a cruiser. The siegebreaker will have already gotten off a couple shots by the time the warp drives are charged.”

“And there’s no way we can take evasive action?” I ask as the tram starts to slow down again.

“Did you just miss everything I said about trying to move a bigass fortress?”

“Figured I’d ask…” I mutter, striding through the doors of the tram as soon as they start to open. In the halls, the mood is hectic as mercs scramble here and there to get their things and start evacuating. “Look, don’t take this the wrong way, but are you sure we should be evacuating before any shots have even been fired? This feels like forfeiting a spaceball game before the team’s even in the arena.”

“I’ve been running simulations since the sensors picked up the siegebreaker dropping out of tunnelspace, Songbird. Do you really want me to start reciting probabilities to you?”

“No, but do it anyway to keep me entertained while I get you unplugged and to the Accatria.” I reply as I up my pace to a jog, side-skipping around any mercs that I come across.

“I literally have better things to do right now, Songbird. I’m in the middle of changing the Bulwark’s orientation to reduce the likelihood of a coring hit that will breach multiple sectors, firing thrusters to provide spin that will make it harder to target specific sectors from great distances, calculating firing patterns to maximize offensive coverage, transferring fuel reserves from the Bulwark to her fleet—”

“And you’re managing to do all this while also reciting it all to me?” I ask, swinging around a corner and sprinting down the next hall.

“I’m an angelnet. Multitasking is a specialty of mine.”

“Yet you don’t have time to recite probabilities to me.”

“Look, you blue-haired bloodsucker, I don’t have to take this shit from you—”

“Alright, alright, point taken, you’re under a lot of stress right now.” I say, reaching the server room and badging through the door. Once inside, I grab one of the handcarts and turn the hoverpad on. “I do have some serious questions, though. First: are you going to be able to keep doing all this if I unplug you from the mainframe?”

“I am working on automating most of the processes I am currently overseeing at the moment. Some will be discontinued when I am disconnected, but they can resume as soon as I’m plugged into the Accatria’s mainframe and have access to her broadcast array.”

“Alright. Second question: have the Masklings been cued in and do you have someone getting the Challenger archive onto the Accatria?” I ask as I reach the center of the server room, where Legaci’s core is attached to a multitude of cables.

“Yes and yes. I have been sending messages with orders to all critical staff to help make the evacuation more orderly. The Masklings have been informed they need to evacuate to the Nyroc and disembark as expediently as possible. Jackrabbit has been dispatched to the intelligence center to secure the archive and make sure it gets to the Voliburn. And before you ask, it’s to make sure we don’t have all our eggs in one basket. I will be on the Accatria; the archive will be on the Voliburn.”

“Alright, third question: what order should I be disconnecting these cables?” I ask, trying to figure out where to start.

“I gotta hold your hand for everything, don’t I? Alright, so pay attention…”

I start disconnecting cables as Legaci guides me through it, working as quickly as I can. Oddly enough, it only seems to get quieter as I work, with most of the logistics staff wrapping up their tasks and then fleeing to pack up their things and get to the ships. After about two minutes of disconnecting cables, I’m able to heave Legaci’s core out of the housing and in the handcart, and roll it back to the door and out into the halls… which are eerily empty, and still lit with the orange evacuation lights.

“Quick question, Legaci, just because I can’t stop thinking about it.” I say, sprinting back through the halls to the tram station. “The Dussel Mercforce has two battlecruisers and two frigates at their disposal, right? Can’t we send those to take care of the siegebreaker and the Aegis cruisers?”

“A single hit from the siegebreaker’s cannon, if placed carefully, would be enough to annihilate any ship in the Dussel fleet. Even if it wasn’t a direct hit, such a shot would rip clean through the vessel and is quite likely to cripple a number of systems.” Legaci answers. “Even if our ships were moving at maximum burn, the siegebreaker could probably get off two such shots before our vessels close to engagement distance. The loss of life and resources would be substantial.”

“Noted.” I mutter as I skid around a corner, trying to maintain as much momentum as possible. “And the only reason why the Bulwark could survive that is because it’s so big.”

“With mitigation measures, yes, the Bulwark could withstand several such hits and still retain critical functionality if none of the shots breach core systems. But that is a matter of chance and luck, and I am not going to assume those are on our side.”

“The way you’re tellin’ it, it feels like we lost before the fight ever began.” I say, turning another corner on the way to the tram station.

“That is how some battles go nowadays. I don’t know how, but they knew where we were, they knew we would be in the middle of a resupply, and they brought the ship composition that would be the most effective in an engagement like this. They minimized the risks they would be taking while maximizing their chance for success, which is what any competent tactician would do. So yeah, with the advantages and intel they had, this battle was over before it started.”

“I don’t like that.” I mutter as we come up on the tram station to find that one’s pulling up just as we’re arriving. “I like to at least be given a fighting chance.”

“Life isn’t fair, and hired guns sure as hell don’t play fair. They play to get paid.”

“I know, but there’s something distinctly irritating about finding out you’ve lost before the first round has even started.” I say, pushing the handcart onto the tram. “I figured we’d have to wait longer for this. Did you keep one of the tram cars on reserve?”

“I did, yeah. I wasn’t going to sit and wait when my survival hinges on catching a train to the hangars.”

“Fair.” I say as the doors close, and the tram jerks into motion. Looking out the windows, I can see the siege guns are aimed out towards somewhere in the dark; every now and then, there’s a flash of blue light rippling along their rails as a spike the size of a sedan gets launched out into the dark at thousands of miles an hour. They appear to be getting fired in sequence, one gun firing while the other two are in the midst of being reloaded. “What’s the point of shooting at them? Didn’t you say the Aegis cruisers would’ve set up a point-defense perimeter?”

“It’s out of spite. It probably won’t make much of a difference, but I’d rather expend the ammunition on the Bulwark instead of letting it get destroyed. Most of the spikes we’re slinging at them will probably be intercepted or lased before they reach their target, but hey, you never know. Maybe they’ll get careless and we’ll manage to score a hit on them.”

As the tram starts to make the turn to head across the Bulwark’s disc, I can see the turrets on the shield wall around the rim are firing as well, all aimed in the same direction that railgun spikes are being slung towards. “And the turrets…?”

“Also spite. Those rounds don’t travel as fast as the ones from the siege guns. It’ll probably be five minutes before they reach the battle group, and they’ll be easier to shoot down, but there will be a lot more of them. Most of them probably won’t get past the hull armoring, but you never know. Sometimes all it takes is a single spike in the right place to do some real damage.”

“Ah. So we’re just throwing up a couple middle fingers to them and forcing them to actually work for their paycheck.” I say, rocking back and forth a little. Simply sitting here just waiting to arrive is driving me nuts.

“More or less, ye—”

If she was going to say anything more, I have no idea what it was. Because at that moment, the entire station shudders, and then the lights flicker and shut off. I hunch down on instinct, and when the power stutters back on, I can see that the siege gun we’re nearest to has been entirely shredded down one side, with a massive, gaping hole at its base where something punched clear through the Bulwark’s disc. Shards of debris are spiraling away from the ruined siege gun, which is slowly falling over at a broken angle.

“Jeezus, what the hell?! I didn’t even see it hit!” I manage to stutter after a moment.

“Yeah, that’s usually what it’s like when you get hit by a projectile moving at five miles a second.” Legaci grunts through my earbud. “It sheared clear through all layers of the main disc. The corridors in the affected areas will automatically seal themselves to prevent atmosphere loss, but any breached power lines will need to be manually shut off, and I can’t do that until I’m  hooked into the Accatria.”

“If one of those shots can punch clean through the disc, that means that they can hit our ships in the hangar even if they’re behind the blast doors, right?” I demand.

“Yes, which is why I put the station into a spin. It makes it harder for them to lock onto a target area on the disc. Think of it like throwing a dart at a board on the wall. It’s much harder to hit a target area if the board is spinning.”

“They managed to take out one of our siege guns!” I exclaim, motioning to the cloud of metal shrapnel still drifting over the Bulwark’s disc. “Clearly the spin isn’t affecting their aim that much!”

“They got lucky.”

“I have a hard time believing that!”

“What you believe is immaterial. We’re almost to the hangars.” Legaci responds as the tram dips below the surface of the Bulwark’s disc once more. “I suppose I don’t need to tell you what to do once we get onboard the Accatria, right?”

“Straight to the server room and get you plugged in and situated, right?” I ask as the darkness of the tram tunnel encloses us, leaving only the orange lights illuminating the interior of the tram.

“Right on.”

“And you don’t need me after that? I can go make sure that Ridge and Renchiko are onboard the Accatria?” I ask, positioning the handcart near the doors so that I can be ready to go once we reach the tram station in the hangars.

“Do whatever you want after that. I just need to be hardwired into the Accatria’s mainframe and I should be able to do everything I need to do.”

“I’ll get you there on the double, then.” I say as the tram emerges back into the wide, open spaces of the Bulwark’s internal docks. As we glide along the track to the quay that’s beside the Accatria, I can see there’s a rush of mercs trying to board the battlecruiser and get last-minute supplies loaded onto her through the supply ramp. “…shit.”

“Goddammit, whatever happened to an orderly evacuation? I sent everyone a text with the ship that they were supposed to board so we didn’t get half the mercforce trying to cram onto a single ship!” Legaci growls. “Just a moment, let me see if I can jack into the speaker system in this bay.” Seconds later, Legaci’s voice can be heard echoing across the quay the Accatria is parked at. “Idiots! I went through the roster and divvied it up perfectly so everyone could get off the fortress if they would JUST READ THE DAMN TEXT I SENT THEM! GO TO YOUR ASSIGNED SHIP, IS IT REALLY THAT HARD?!”

Legaci’s incensed shouting through the speaker system gets several heads looking upwards as if the voice of god was shouting at them, but it doesn’t shift the crowd trying to cram into the Accatria. I hesitate as the tram starts to slow to its station on the Accatria’s quay; there’s no way I’ll be able to get through that traffic jam of bodies clogging the entry ramps to the battlecruiser. “Legaci, it’s going to take me five minutes to fight through that; I’m not sure we have that long…”

“We don’t.” Legaci growls through my ear bud as the tram slows to a stop. “Let me check the cam feeds from the other hangar bays. We’ll go on one of the other ships.”

“Wait, don’t leave from this station yet!” I say quickly, pulling out my phone. “I told Ridge and Renchiko to go to the Accatria, but if they’re not on the ship yet, I’d rather them come with us. I’m responsible for them.”

“I’ll send texts and calls to them to come to this quay station if they’re not already aboard the Accatria. The evacuation at the other three ships is proceeding much better, so we’ll plan on boarding the Voliburn instead. That one’s the nearest to this bay.”

“Can you open the doors?” I ask, letting go of the hovercart. “They might not be checking their phones. If they see me, it might get them here faster.”

“Go, but don’t get too caught up out there.” Legaci says as the doors open. “People out there don’t look like they’re behaving rationally.”

I slip through the doors the moment they’re open, sprinting out onto the quay. It’s not clear how much the Dussel mercs know, but the Bulwark shuddering and briefly losing power just minutes earlier seems to have spooked a lot of them. There’s a certain urgency to the way they’re pressing for the ramps to the Accatria, lugging suitcases, weapons cases, all manner of belongings and what-have-you. Moving along the quay, I cup my hands to my mouth and start shouting. “Ridge! Renchiko!”

There’s no response, and even if there was, I think it’d be lost in all the chaos of the mercs trying to get onto the Accatria. Realizing I’m not going to get anywhere shouting like a normal person, I take deep breath, reaching inside to tap the oft-unused magic that runs through my veins. When I shout again, it isn’t loud, but instead a hollow echo that travels underneath the noise on the quay — a sound that resonates in the background instead of the foreground, yet clear as day. “Ridge, Renchiko, this is Songbird. If you aren’t already on the Accatria, come back to the quay station.”

The mercs nearest to me turn and give me looks at hearing my voice resonate like that, but the crowd doesn’t react, for the most part. Mercs continue milling and pressing towards the ramps, and I walk a couple paces, bouncing up on my toes to try and peer over heads and see if Ridge and Renchiko are in the crowd. Doubt starts to creep in as I wonder if my call worked — it’s been a while since I’ve used sonic sorcery with any frequency, and I hope I’m not rusty. Now would not be a good time to find out my skills in that department have atrophied from lack of use.

“Songbird!”

The shout draws my attention further along the quay. Coming around the edge of the crowd are Renchiko and Ridge, hauling hastily-packed suitcases, and Ridge with a duffel over his shoulder. I sprint towards them, taking the duffel off Ridge’s shoulder as I turn and start running back to the quay station. “C’mon, we’re going to be boarding one of the other ships.”

“But the Accatria’s right there!” Ridge says, gesturing to the battlecruiser.

“And she’s getting packed to the gills with people that weren’t paying attention to their evacuation texts. She’s going to be overloaded and besides, it’s going to take minutes to get onto the ship with that crowd.” I say, skidding back onto the tram with Ridge and Renchiko behind me. “We don’t have that long. The siegebreaker’s already gotten one shot off and is probably going to get another one off soon. We’ll be boarding the Voliburn instead. Legaci—”

“Two steps ahead of you, Songbird.” she replies as the doors to the tram slide closed again, and the tram jerks into motion. “Less than a minute and we should be at the Voliburn’s hangar bay. Won’t take us more than twenty seconds to get onboard.”

“What about all the people trying to get onto the Accatria?” Renchiko demands as the tram starts hurtling along the tracks again. “Are they going to have enough time to evacuate?”

“I don’t know. That depends on how accurate the siegebreaker is.” I say. “My responsibility is to get you tw—”

I’m cut off as the floor drops out from beneath our feet, the lights flickering out soon afterwards. They come back on after a couple of seconds… but all of us are still hanging in the air in the tram. It takes me a moment to realize what’s happened.

The last shot must’ve hit the Bulwark’s gravity drive.

“Legaci!” I shout, looking out the windows to see we’re still careening along the tram tracks with no friction to slow us down.

“On it.” Short and terse, to the point. She knows how bad this is.

“Kids, brace yourselves!” I order Ridge and Renchiko, whose startled expressions might be funny if our mobile fortress wasn’t in the middle of getting shot to pieces. “Gravity’s going to kick back on just a—”

I don’t get to finish my sentence, because it does in fact kick on at that point. The tram slams back down on its tracks, and I stagger and fold into one of the tram’s seats while Ridge lands on his suitcase and Renchiko lands on the floor. As the brakes activate, sparks fly against the sides of the tram tube, and I push off the seat to grab the handcart and make sure Legaci’s core is okay.

“No pressure, Legaci, but if we could get a damage report that would be nice.” I say as I look her core over. No damage, so she should be fine.

“Last hit clipped the gravity drive. It’s still functional but it’s bleeding energy from a breached relay. I’m turning off the siege guns so I can reallocate power to the drive to make up the difference. The energy loss is substantial, though. If the breach is not repaired, it will continue leaking power and I will have to start drawing down other systems to make up the deficit.”

“How long do we have before it totally goes?” I ask as the tram screeches to a halt at the next quay station.

“That is dependent on the measures we take, but factoring in likely damage from the next hit, perhaps ten minutes. After that we will have to choose between life support systems and keeping the gravity drive online.”

“Can’t we increase the fusion core’s energy output?” I ask, pushing the handcart out onto the quay as the tram doors rattle open. “Ridge, Renchiko, c’mon! On your feet, let’s go!”

“Not while we are in the middle of distributing fuel to the Dussel fleet to top off their tanks. The Bulwark’s fuel distribution system is old; it does not have the ability to adjust consumption while it is dispensing fuel to multiple vessels from the central reserves.”

“And they say we live in the future.” I mutter to myself as I run across the quay to the ramp leading up to the Voliburn, checking over my shoulder every few seconds to make sure Renchiko and Ridge are keeping up with me. “So we’re gone in ten minutes whether everyone’s onboard or not.”

“I’m only saying this because the recruits can’t hear me, but you knew that people were going to get left behind, Songbird. There was no way we were pulling off a short-notice evacuation in fifteen minutes without losing people.”

I press my lips together. She’s right, of course; with the situation the way it was, casualties were going to be inevitable. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.” I mutter as I push her hovercart up the ramp behind a couple mercs that are hurrying onboard with all their mortal possessions. “Let’s focus on buying as much time as we can. We can at least do that much.”

“I’ll do what I can, but I’m not made of miracles. Angelnets can only do so much; I can’t help people if they don’t follow my instructions, and as you clearly saw at the Accatria, that’s what a lot of them have chosen to do.”

“Be that as it may, I’m not ready to give up on them yet.” I mutter back to her as I roll the hovercart onto the Voliburn, navigating around the crew hustling to get the battlecruiser prepped for departure. Glancing over my shoulder, I check to make sure Ridge and Renchiko are onboard. “Ridge, Renchiko, get to the quarters and make sure we’ve got rooms claimed. Stay there until myself or Legaci says otherwise!” Turning forward again, I start picking up the pace, sprinting down the hall. “Let’s go get you plugged in, Legaci.”

“Less talk, more running, Blueberry.”

“HEY. Only Kiwi gets to call me that.”

“Ooh, someone’s sensitive about their pet names, are they? How about bluebird, then?”

“You could always use my actual name, you know.”

“That’s boring.”

“Whatever. Call me what you want, I’ve already got half a dozen nicknames anyway.”

“Awesome. Now, less talk, more running, bluebird.”

Dan Splainsworthy’s Encyclopedia of Interstellar Vessels

Siegebreaker

So named for its role in interstellar warfare, the Siegebreaker class of artillery ships is so highly specialized that only a few hundred are currently in active service across the many armadas of the Myrrdicato Galaxy. Described as little more than an orbital railgun with a tunnel drive attached to it, it is most effective at extremely long ranges, and quite vulnerable at close ranges. Due to this, Siegebreakers often travel with a heavy escort group, often comprised of battlecruisers or Aegis cruisers.

The distinguishing feature of the Siegebreaker is, of course, its primary railcannon. Where most interstellar armaments are attachments to the body of the vessel, a Siegebreaker’s primary railcannon is the body of the vessel, often making up more than 70% of the structure. This weapon is capable of discharging projectiles at speeds of 15,000—25,000 mph, depending on the manufacturer and the condition of the railcannon. Though these projectiles generally vary in their size, composition, and function, they are often the size of large planetary vehicles, and the most basic iterations are simply massive chunks of solid metal that can rip clean through most targets on account of their mass and speed. Traditional point-defense countermeasures are usually ineffective due to the same factors of speed and mass; when deployed close enough to a target, Siegebreaker attacks leave little time for reaction, and even when deployed from long distances, the projectiles have far more mass than traditional solid-matter weapons, and thus are much harder to knock off-course or destroy mid-transit.

In most current warfare doctrines, Siegebreakers are primarily assigned to the role of destroying or crippling defensive satellites and other orbital structures, such as stations and fortresses. Destruction of these installations typically allows other ships to get in close to engage local forces protected behind the defense grid, or for deploying forces to the surface of the planet. However, as the era of military conquests has largely receded in the open-space regions of the galaxy, the practical and actual use of Siegebreakers has been in deployment against Collective hive ships, whose vast scale is on par with many orbital stations and fortresses…

Event Log: Kiwi

M.V. Nyroc: Bridge

4:54pm SGT

“Alright, that should be everything.” I say as the doors to the Nyroc’s bridge fold open for me. Forecast is in the captain’s chair, and Tarocco is manning the pilot console, while my other handlers are filling in at the other consoles. “Let’s close the doors and bug out.”

“You sure we’ve got everything?” Tarocco asks without looking up from her console. “If we leave anything behind, it’s pretty much lost to us.”

“Yeah yeah, we got everything. I even made sure we loaded Cahriu, now let’s go!” I say, sitting down to the tactical console. “I don’t know what the hell’s going on, but it’s punching holes in the Bulwark, and the gravity even went kaput for a few seconds. Being here, in this mobile fortress, is probably not a great place to be right now.”

“Tarocco, initiate exit.” Forecast orders. “And if you must know, Kiwi, the Bulwark is being attacked by a siegebreaker with an Aegis escort.”

“Oh, that’s just great.” I say, pulling up my screens so I can check on the Nyroc’s power and available weapons. “Shouldn’t the Dussel mercs have seen that coming from miles away? Siegebreakers are big-ass ships, they don’t just pop out of nowhere.”

“Except when they do, which this one did.” Tarocco replies tersely. “According to Legaci, it dropped out of tunnelspace just within range and immediately engaged. It gave us no time to prepare and just barely enough time to evacuate.”

“So what, we’re just going to run away?” I demand as the mooring clamps holding our ship in place disengage, a shudder running through the cruiser. “Why don’t we go hit them and teach them a lesson?”

“Because none of our ships can survive a hit from that siegebreaker.” Forecast answers before Tarocco can. “We could attack, and likely do substantial damage to them, but there would be substantial loss of life and resources. We will conserve both by retreating from this engagement.”

“Are you kidding me? We just got done resupplying this entire mobile fortress!” I exclaim as the Nyroc’s directional thrusters fire, carefully moving the ship down towards the open doors of our hangar bay on the underside of the Bulwark. “All the fuel we just paid for, all the supplies we just paid for, are going to get left behind and destroyed. I’d call that a substantial loss of resources!”

“And it does not justify the loss of lives.” Forecast replies calmly. “That is not to say we will do nothing. There is the risk that the siegebreaker will shift targets to try and hit the Dussel ships as they flee the Bulwark. We are the first ship to disembark, and as the Nyroc is designed for stealth, it will be far harder for the siegebreaker to target us than it would the Dussel ships. Kiwi, there should be one of the I9 Shifter-Marshy hybrid missiles in our armament. I want you to set it to recognize a siegebreaker profile, then create a course for it and launch it the moment we’re fully clear of the Bulwark.”

“That’s more like it.” I mutter, flicking through our armaments until I reach the missiles and track down the type he talked about. “And you’ve forecast this? It’s gonna work, right?”

“With the time it will take for the missile to reach the target, the siegebreaker will likely get another shot off. However, after that point, the probability that the missile will damage the siegebreaker enough to inhibit its main railcannon is high.” Forecast says as the Nyroc drifts through the atmospheric shield keeping the air from escaping the Bulwark’s hangars. “Tarocco, take us away from the Bulwark and Holeimos, and mind all the debris. Kiwi, do not launch that missile until I tell you to. Comms, do we have any further guidance from Legaci on a rendezvous?”

“None yet, sir.”

“Then send them a message that we will be warping to the planet on the other side of the Hagburt System, I forget what its name is. We will settle into orbit around its moon and wait for them to join us there.”

“Forecast, I need to know what direction I’m launching this thing in.” I say as I finish locking in the presets for the missile that’s being loaded into one of the Nyroc’s launch tubes. “I’ve got a course mapped, now I just need a destination to orient it around.”

“Set it along the axis of the Bulwark’s comms tower.” Forecast orders. “Legaci adjusted the orientation of the Bulwark so that the flat of the disc would face incoming fire and eliminate the possibility of ripping the Bulwark clean in half with a shot along its horizontal axis.”

“Mhm yeah sure. Didn’t need to know anything past the first sentence, but I appreciate the heads up.” I say, starting to adjust course parameters for the track the missile’s going to take. “What’s the distance? How far away is the siegebreaker?”

“Tarocco?” Forecast asks.

“Twenty-two miles.” Tarocco answers, her eyes remaining fixed on the screen as she continues navigating the drifting cloud of debris underneath the Bulwark.

“Twenty-two miles? Jeez.” I say as I use that last bit of information to set the missile’s course. “And they’re still hitting us from that far out? You figure we’d be able to shoot it down if it has to travel that far…”

“Projectiles from a siegebreaker’s main railcannon can traverse that distance in four to five seconds.” Forecast says as we start to glide out from beneath the shadow of the Bulwark. “We’re almost clear of the Bulwark. Kiwi, is the missile ready to launch?”

“Yeah, it’s…” I pause when my pocket vibrates. “…just a minute.” Pulling out my phone, I check it to see there’s a text from Songbird.

Hey, are you safe? How’s the evacuation going on your ship?

I smile at that. It’s so cute, the way he uses complete sentences and proper grammar. Wonder how long it took him to type out that message. And it’s adorable that he cares enough to text me and ask if I’m okay.

“Kiwi!”

“Yup yup we’re good! Ready to fire!” I say, shoving my phone down into my lap when Forecast snaps at me. “Now? Am I good to go?”

“If you’re quite done flirting with your handler, then yes, there’s a multi-warhead stealth missile what needs launching.” Forecast says through gritted teeth.

I grin over my shoulder. “I thought you’d never ask.” I say, slamming a fist down on the screen of my console. A blur goes hurtling out from just beneath the nose of the Nyroc, little thrusters firing at different points along its body as it hangs a sharp right before the main booster kicks in, hurtling out into the dark past the Bulwark.

“Right. We’ve done our part.” Forecast says as the jet from the missile’s tail becomes just another point of light against a star-speckled sky. “Tarocco, jump us to the rendezvous when the drive is charged.”

“So right now, then?” Tarocco says. “I made sure the drive was warmed up well before we disembarked.”

“Wait! Not yet!” I say quickly, digging my phone out from between my legs and hurriedly unlocking the screen.

“What is it, Kiwi?” Forecast asks, his brow furrowing as he looks to me.

“Gotta text Songbird back before we’re out of range.” I mutter, my thumbs hammering frantically over the screen of my phone.

“Are you seriously— Tarocco, initiate jump. Now.”

“Wait wait wait, just like— ten more seconds, that’s all I need—”

“Jump initiated.”

“…I hate both of you.”

Event Log: Lucanthiline

M.V. Voliburn: Bridge

4:55pm SGT

The moment the door to the bridge slides open, I can hear the shouting.

“What the hell happened? Why were we caught off guard by this? Isn’t this what you angelnets are supposed to do? Predict this sort of shit?”

“I can only predict populations I observe and only then if given sufficient processing power, you overgrown clod! Besides, the Bulwark’s mainframe is so bogged down by years of poor administrative management that it’s a jungle of malware. I’ve done my best to clean it up and cover our tracks, but there’s still so much shit in there you can bet your ass that there’s at least half a dozen nation-state actors that could figure out where we are if they tried hard enough!”

I edge my way around the bridge, avoiding the blowout between Commander Dussel and Legaci’s hologram. From the looks of it, the two are at each others’ throats and willing to throw blame wherever it’ll stick. Slinking around a couple of the other bridge officers, I settle in next to Tony’s console, sitting on the floor and leaning my back against it while I wrap my arms around my knees. “Hey, Tony.” I say quietly.

Her blue eyes flick to me only briefly. “I’m busy right now, Luci.”

“Yeah, I know.” I say, keeping my voice low. “Anything I can help with?”

“Stay down there and remain quiet.”

“Okay.” Curling my tail around my ankles, I look around the bridge. The mood in here is already bad, and Legaci and Dussel’s arguing is just making it worse. Through the bridge’s window, the quay for the Accatria is visible, and I can see a logjam of mercs trying to cram onto the other battlecruiser. Legaci’s already told them over the station speakers to go to their assigned ships multiple times, but some people still haven’t listened.

“I did not spend ten years risking my ass in dark space just to watch my company’s biggest asset get used as target practice for some other mercforce!” Dussel’s shout draws my attention back to the center of the bridge. “If you had just starting charging the warp drives when the siegebreaker had dropped out of tunnelspace, we could be gone by now!”

“Would we?” Legaci snaps back at him. “It would take twenty-one minutes at a minimum to fully charge drives for a short jump, during which the siegebreaker would’ve gotten off two shots, either one of which could’ve critically damaged one of our warp drives, and then where would we be? The evacuation would’ve been started much later, with the potential for loss of life far higher!”

“That’s enough!” The barking shout has me turning my head to see Valkyrie stalking onto the bridge, her gaze stony and irritated. “We can argue about what we should’ve done later. At the moment, we need to focus on making the best of our current situation. Legaci—”

“Inbound!” Tony shouts loud enough to have me jumping in place. A second later, a shudder ripples through the Bulwark, rattling the Voliburn and all the other ships in the hangar in their mooring clamps.

“Adjutant, damage report.” Dussel orders to Tony.

Tony’s fingers are still flying over her screen, but it’s Legaci that answers. “The last shot cored through life support.” she says, her eyes darting back and forth as if she was reading from unseen screens. “The timetable for departure has moved up to now.”

“We can’t leave now, we still have mercs that haven’t gotten on their ships!” Dussel orders. “We are not leaving until everyone is aboard a ship!”

“Then everybody better be on a ship in the next five minutes.” Legaci hisses. “Space is cold; it’s negative two hundred degrees out there. There are three massive, gaping holes in the Bulwark that are bleeding heat even though we’ve sealed off the corridors leading to the affected areas. Life support is down, and without internal heating, the rest of the station is going to frost over pretty quick.”

“She’s right, I’m reading a rapid decrease in the hangar’s ambient temperature and atmospheric pressure.” Tony says, her eyes fixed on her screen. “At this rate the hangar will be subzero in a matter of minutes. Other areas of the Bulwark might be able to retain their heat longer because they’re small, contained areas, but the hangars are large, open areas. And if the decreasing pressure is anything to go by, there’s probably one or multiple shrapnel breaches in the hangars that are leaking atmosphere.”

“I’m not going to leave my people behind to freeze to death.” Dussel says, leaning back in his chair. There’s a certain stubborn finality to it that I’ve often seen when it comes to Venusians.

“Then maybe they should’ve followed the goddamn evacuation instructions I sent them!” Legaci hisses, whirling on him. “It didn’t have to be like this! All they had to do was follow the orders I gave them! We are out of time; every moment we remain here, we risk another shot from the siegebreaker coring through the hangars and striking one of our ships, and then it’s going to be a lot more of your people dead than just the ones that would freeze to death if we left now. It is time to leave.”

“We stay until the temperature in the hangars is no longer survivable.” The declaration comes from Sierra, who’s stepping onto the bridge with Songbird behind her. “The Masklings have already departed and set a rendezvous, but they launched a fancy-schmancy stealth missile before they buggered out. They said it might make it past the perimeter set by the Aegis cruisers, and manage to disable the siegebreaker’s main cannon.”

“ ‘Might’ is not a statistically reassuring descriptor.” Tony remarks flatly.

“It’s the best we can do for now.” Songbird says. “That’s the compromise. We take a risk and keep loading people until the hangars are no longer survivable, then we book it. We won’t be able to save everyone, but we’ll stay for as many as we can.”

“That good enough for you, Commander?” Sierra says, marching across the bridge so she can sit down in the lieutenant’s chair. “It’s good enough for Songbird, and he’s a real sucker for saving everyone he can even when it’s not reasonable.”

“Speaking of which.” Songbird mutters, glaring after Sierra. “I’m heading back to the loading ramps to get as many people inside as I can before we leave.”

“I’ll join you.” Valkyrie says, turning and following Songbird as he marches off the bridge.

“Tony, how long do we have before the temperature in the hangars is no longer survivable?” Dussel demands.

“Define ‘survivable’.” Tony replies. “I would imagine that once the temperature dips below negative seventy, most organics without sufficient insulation will not survive unless they’re already on the ramp.”

“What is the current hangar temperature, and how fast is it dropping?” Dussel immediately follows up.

“Fifty two degrees, and we’re losing a degree every 3.4 seconds.” Legaci answers, clearly not wanting to be sidelined here. “At this rate, we have a little under seven minutes before the temperature hits negative fifty. Assuming the slow loss of atmosphere doesn’t do them in first.”

“Stow the sass and make yourself useful, Cyber.” Dussel orders. “Get me a line out to the rest of the hangar. They should hear this from their Commander.”

Legaci gives a sarcastic flourish as a flat, rickety mic on the arm of Dussel’s chair clicks up. “It’s all yours.”

Taking it, Dussel leans forward in his chair. “Dussel mercenaries, this is your Commander speaking. The Bulwark has sustained critical damage, and the life support systems are no longer working. Atmosphere in the hangars is leaking, along with heat. The oxygen will probably last a good while longer, but the heat will not.

“In five minutes, temperatures will be close to negative fifty, and will continue dropping. You will have that long to get on the ships that remain in the hangar. All ships are to depart at six minutes. If you have not yet boarded a ship, abandon your belongings and get your ass on a ship at once. Hatches close in four and a half minutes.”

With that, he turns off the mic and sets it back in the arm of his chair. The bridge is mostly silent, the somberness of the moment finally getting a chance to hit home. Thirty minutes ago, nobody could’ve known that we would be leaving this place after getting mauled by a battle group that we couldn’t even fight back against. Now here we were, about to leave behind everyone that got a late start on their evacuation or those that hadn’t followed orders and were now struggling to get on a ship.

“Tony, how are we looking?” Dussel asks after a moment, leaning his forearms on his knees.

“Fuel reserves are nearly topped off. Exit permissions have already been granted. All we have to do is close and seal the hatches, and we can disengage the mooring clamps.” Tony answers without turning around. “Navcom will begin charging the warp drive, so we can be ready to jump to the rendezvous the moment we’ve cleared the debris field.”

“I’ll start mapping out our fleet’s jump course after that.” Legaci says, swinging an arm out in front of herself and bringing up a map of the galaxy in the same motion. “We’ll need somewhere to regroup and reorganize ourselves, and balance the number of personnel we have on each ship. The Accatria will be jampacked by the time we leave; we’ll have to shuffle some of those mercs onto other ships to even it out a bit. We’ll also need to find a place to provision again. The last freighter from the Holeimos station didn’t make it to us before the attack, so we don’t have all the food and water that the Masklings paid for, and we didn’t have much time to move the Bulwark’s remaining provisions to the ships. Each ship has its own cache of emergency rations, of course, but those won’t last longer than two weeks, and in the Accatria’s case, probably less than that. Question is, where can we go that the Vaunted won’t be on our asses, and where other mercs looking to collect on the bounty won’t come after us…”

“Spare a moment for the dead, would you?” Tony mutters. “We haven’t even left yet and you’re already glossing over them and moving on like nothing’s happened.”

“You’ll forgive me for lacking sympathy when I gave them a very simple road map to survival, and they opted to ignore it.” Legaci responds tartly. “My concern is no longer with them; it’s with ensuring the survival of everyone that did do what they were supposed to.”

“Much as I like listening to you two bitch at each other, we’ve got other stuff to worry about, so can it for now.” Sierra says. “We haven’t heard anything from the battle group attacking us, have we?”

“Nothing.” Legaci says, flicking through the starmap in front of her. “I tried hailing them, but they refused to pick up the phone, even on repeated attempts, and they’ve made no effort to reach out to us.”

“They came looking for a clean job.” Dussel rumbles. “Kill the target from a nice, safe distance, confirm the kill, then take the evidence back and collect the bounty. Boarding and capturing people would’ve been long, drawn-out, and messy.”

“Well then, they won’t get what they came for. Most of us are going to get out of here alive.” Sierra says, leaning back in her seat.

“Most of us.” Tony repeats under her breath.

I hug my legs a little tighter at that. I know Sierra doesn’t mean anything cruel by it; that’s just the way she is. Telling things the way they are, drilling down to what she considers important and focusing on it. It often comes across as insensitive, but it’s not out of malice; it’s because she’s practical and straightforward, and because survival is more important than making other people feel good. But it still bothers people that don’t want to write off losses as quickly and callously as Sierra does. People like Tony.

So I reach out, placing a hand on her uniformed arm. I don’t know what to say, so I don’t say anything — it’s just my way of trying to tell her that she’s not alone, and I know what she feels like. I know that she values the people we’re going to lose, even if their plight was partially self-inflicted.

At the touch, Tony looks down at me — and for a moment, her professional facade cracks, just enough to let a morose smile through. Reaching down, she plants a hand between my ears, ruffling my hair a bit. Another wordless gesture that says more than words could.

Then she takes her hand back, retreats behind the facade once more, and focuses on the screen of her console. “We are nearing the five-minute mark and quickly losing heat in the corridors adjoined to the open hatches, Commander. Do we commence disembarkation?”

Dussel leans back in his chair, sighing. “Close the hatches. It’s time to go.”

The bridge returns to somber silence as the Voliburn’s hatches are closed, and the order relayed to the other ships as well. The Voliburn shudders as the mooring clamps release and retract, allowing the directional thrusters to start firing, pushing us down towards the opening hangar door on the underside of the Bulwark. In the other hangar bays, the other ships are starting to do the same, disengaging from their ramps and starting to coast down towards their bay doors. As we go, I can see frost starting to creep over the metal surfaces in the Bulwark’s hangar bays, and for a moment I’m tempted to look towards the Accatria’s hangar bay to see how many got left behind. But I decide against it, and instead, I just hug my knees a little tighter, focusing on those that are on the bridge with me.

I’d rather not have nightmares tonight.

Intercepted Communications

Dussel Mercenary Fleet, local inter-ship text thread, 2 participants

11:26pm SGT

Blooberry: Sorry about the delay, I’m just going through the luggage and reorganizing everything.

Kiwi: did u get everything?

Blooberry: Dunno. Ridge and Renchiko were the ones packing everything; I was grabbing Legaci’s core and making sure it got onboard the Voliburn. It looks like they got most of it. I travel light anyway.

Kiwi: thx 4 txting me to c if I was ok earlier

Blooberry: Yeah, I was a bit worried. I know the evacuation was real short notice.

Kiwi: how r things over there? heard it’s real crowded on the Accatria

Blooberry: It’s okay. Renchiko’s got her own room, and Ridge is bunking in the same room as me. Renchiko might have to double up with someone if they move people over from the Accatria. Also, if I don’t reply right away, it’s because I’m in the middle of refolding clothes or repacking something.

Kiwi: if it gets 2 crowded over there u can come hang w/us, we got spare rooms

Blooberry: Are you even allowed to offer that? Wouldn’t Forecast have to sign off on that?

Kiwi: what forecast doesn’t kno won’t hurt him

Blooberry: Ah. So you AREN’T authorized to offer that.

Kiwi: bish pls i call the shots over here

Blooberry: I doubt that.

Kiwi: fite me

Blooberry: I’d win, but no thank you.

Kiwi: ur only saying that b/c i’m on a different ship rn and cant prove u wrong

Blooberry: And who’s the one that’s won both fights we’ve had so far?

Kiwi: the fite on Sybione doesnt count

Kiwi: u had help

Kiwi: cheater

Blooberry: Let’s be honest, I did most of the hard work. All Ridge did was bash you in the back of the head with a vase.

Kiwi: still 2v1

Kiwi: not fair

Blooberry: What about the fight on Shinobe Kibe? That was 1v1 and I still won.

Kiwi: u kicked me in the face

Kiwi: ofc u won

Kiwi: cheater

Blooberry: Well, if we ever get the chance to spar, I guess you’ll have the chance to prove me wrong.

Kiwi: ugh its gonna take 4ever now that we have 2 regroup

Blooberry: Hang on jussa mo, Ridge is talking to me

Kiwi: tell him 2 bug off, the adults r talking

Kiwi: but if i dont hear from u b4 bed, sleep well

Event Log: Feroce Acceso

M.V. Voliburn: Crew Quarters

11:39pm SGT

“Hey, what’s up?” I say, putting my phone down as Ridge sits down on the edge of my bed. Our quarters, per the usual, are fairly cramped, his bunk on top and mine on the bottom, and only three feet between the bunks and the opposite wall.

“Nothing, I’ve just been thinking a lot.” he says, staring at his hands. “Like, we could’ve died today, and everything that I’m learning wouldn’t have stopped it. Jai Te, or learning how to fire a gun… none of that would’ve kept me alive.”

“Yeah.” I agree gently. “That’s true.”

“So what’s the point of learning those things?” Ridge asks. “It just… I don’t know. It just feels like a waste of time to spend years learning something and getting better at it, just to die in one hit because some other ship got the jump on you while you were resupplying. Sucked out into the void of space and freeze to death.”

“Well. That’s why we try to avoid space combat.” I say, turning in place and leaning back against the side of my bunk. “That’s generally why my goal is to avoid combat, period, and deescalate situations so they don’t get violent. A life is a valuable thing, a culmination of skills, talents, and experience that took years, decades to create. And it’s a terrible thing to have to destroy one, even though that is something that has to be done on the rare occasion.”

“Is that why you always use a stunner?” Ridge asks, looking at me. “I’ve never seen you use a coilgun or a plasma rifle.”

“It is.” I say, folding my arms atop my knees. “I don’t really like guns. From a mechanical engineering standpoint, they’re fascinating, and I love understanding how they work and seeing the efficiency with which they carry out their designed purpose. But the reality is that they are terrible, terrible machines that are extremely efficient at destroying, in mere seconds, what has taken decades to create. I will use lethal firearms if I have to, but I much prefer using my stunner. And I don’t make a habit of carrying lethal firearms with me.”

“I guess I just… never thought about how easy it was to die.” Ridge says haltingly.

“Well, you’d never been off Valcorria before, had you?” I ask.

He shakes his head.

“That’s probably why.” I say. “You’ve never been to space before we recruited you. Space is… a ruthless, inhospitable place, and not because other people are trying to kill you. Space is not a place people were meant to go, or live. It’s a massive, cold desert with no air to breathe, filled with radiation… these worlds, these planet we live on are like oases in that desert. Little spots of shade and refuge, scattered across a desert that will kill you if you venture out into it without protection. And these ships we live on are tiny pieces of those oases that we take with us in order to survive it. I don’t think most people appreciate that until the first time they’re involved in a space battle and they can see how quickly you can die when you’re not protected by that little pocket of paradise you’re traveling in.”

He gives me a flat look. “You’re not exactly making me feel any better.”

I smile ruefully at that. “This is reality. Life is frail, but when you realize that, you respect it a lot more.”

“Sierra doesn’t seem to respect it at all…” Ridge mutters.

I shrug. “That’s… common, for vampires. We are hard to kill, and so it easier for some vampires to lose touch with that sense of respect.” I take a deep breath, looking around our claustrophobic quarters. “But the important thing is that we are alive, right now. Most of the mercs survived and escaped, and that’s something to be grateful for. Things could’ve gone much, much worse than how they did, and we have Legaci to thank for that.”

“How could it have gone worse?” Ridge demands. “People died, and we lost the Bulwark. We lost most of the fuel that the Masklings just paid for, and we had to run and leave behind the food and water supplies we hadn’t gotten yet.”

“That’s all true.” I agree. “But Legaci mitigated those losses with her quick response times. She’s the one that detected the tunnelspace breach and started scanning that region right away, and she’s the one that initiated the evacuation protocols three minutes after the siegebreaker’s arrival. She ran countless quick simulations and how they would play out for us, and then acted on that information. Had we waited on the mercforce’s command structure to come to a decision, then they would’ve still been debating a course of action by the time we were hit with the first shot.”

“Doesn’t that mean she went around the Commander to make all that happen, though?” Ridge points out.

“She did, which understandably pissed him off. But at the end of the day, her actions saved the lives of his men, and probably a couple of his ships as well. If Legaci hadn’t put the Bulwark into the spin, the siegebreaker would’ve been able to nail the hangar bays dead on. A lot of the stuff she did kept us from going to an early grave.” I say, planting the toes of my boots against the wall. “You should consider thanking her next time you see her. DIs often don’t get as much recognition as they should because the work they do is often invisible, but it can have a huge impact on us.”

“Mmm.” he says, and it’s the sound of reluctance. “Did we ever figure out who was attacking us?”

“We did. Legaci managed to narrow it down based on the compositions of known merc fleets in the galaxy and their typical operations regions. There’s not a lot of mercforces that can afford to have their own siegebreaker.” I say, reaching over and starting to zip my repacked suitcase back up.

“Who was it?” Ridge asks, watching me.

“It doesn’t matter. They’re mercs; it’s not personal to them. They didn’t do it because they had an axe to grind with us; they did it because someone was paying them to, nothing more and nothing less.” I say, pushing the suitcase under my bunk. “Hitting back at them would miss the point, because it could’ve just as easily been any other mercforce. What I really want to know is who was footing the bill, because that’s who has a bone to pick with us.”

“So someone else hired them to do their dirty work for them?”

“You got it.” I say, pushing off the floor and ducking into my bunk. “And we don’t know who it was, but I’ve got a pretty strong feeling it was our friends over at CURSE.”

“So what do we do now, then?” Ridge says, starting to climb the stairs to his bunk. “We’ve lost the Bulwark, and that was supposed to keep us supplied while we were looking for the Masklings’ lost ship thing.”

“We’ll still be able to look for their arkship. It’s just that our margin for error will be a bit smaller than it was before.” I say as I get settled on my bunk, pulling the thin covers over myself. “But for now, we just stay on our toes. Find a friendly place to catch our breath and get ready for the journey, and then get back at it.”

“Because that’s what Challengers do?” he asks, his mattress squeaking as he gets comfortable on it.

I think about that. “It’s what the Challengers would’ve done. And now, it’s what the Valiant would do, because that’s who we are now.”

“Hey Songbird?”

“Yes?”

“We are the good guys, right?”

Even though I can’t see him, I can hear the doubt in his voice. “We are, yes.” I answer.

“Okay. It just… doesn’t feel like it sometimes.”

I don’t respond right away. “It’s easy to feel beat down when things don’t go your way. And sometimes, you lose battles. Good guys don’t win all the time, and sometimes they don’t even win most of the time. But that’s what it means to be a good guy; you don’t fight because you’re going to win. You fight because it’s the right thing to do, and even when you know you might lose.”

He doesn’t say anything to that, and I can’t tell what his response to it is, because I can’t see him. The silence stretches out longer, and even though he hasn’t said anything, I can tell that something about it bothers him… primarily because he hasn’t said anything.

“Go ahead and spit it out, Ridge.” I say after a moment more. “I know something’s on your mind.”

He doesn’t say it, at least not right away. “Would you keep fighting for the right thing even if it got you killed?”

I start to open my mouth, and then close it. Really thinking about the question. “I don’t think anyone really knows the answer to that question until it’s actually a choice they have to make. I think a lot of people want to believe they would stand up for the right thing, even if it got them killed. But the truth is, you never really know until you’re staring down the barrel of a gun or the edge of the blade, and everything you’ve done, everything you enjoy doing, everything you wanted to do, is about to come to an end.” I go quiet for a bit; there’s more I want to say, I’m just figuring out how to say it. “What… I will say, is that there were Challengers that did keep fighting for the right thing, even though they knew that it would probably get them killed in the circumstances they were in. I even had the privilege of meeting some of them, before they met their ends. And I want to believe that if I ended up in a circumstance like that, I could muster the courage to live up to their example.”

It’s quiet up in the top bunk. I wait for Ridge’s response, but it doesn’t come, and I feel awkward, not knowing where to go from there. After a moment, I roll on my side, pulling my covers tighter around myself.

“I’m not sure I could be that brave.” It’s faint and quiet, from the top bunk.

I press my lips together, then answer. “Then you are honest with yourself. And that is not a bad thing.” Taking a breath, I shift my pillow under my head, trying to get it comfortable. “It’s been a long day, so let’s call it a night. You’re young, and you need your sleep.”

“Alright.” It sounds subdued, and I think it’s the first time he hasn’t given me backtalk about going to bed on time. Normally I’d be praising the day, but right now, I can only imagine what thoughts are running through his head to make him so subdued. I wouldn’t necessarily say I’m worried, but… concerned, a little.

But that would be a conversation for another night, so for now, I reach over and touch the panel on the wall, dimming the lights so we can both get some rest.