GENERAL NALANI KEAH
Full war footing again after two decades of peace and recovery—it was nothing to brag about. General Nalani Keah found the situation all too familiar. Preparing the military forces to protect against an incomprehensible, seemingly invincible, enemy—that was getting to be damned commonplace.
Keah stood on the bridge of her flagship Juggernaut, the Kutuzov, which was more a home to her than anywhere else in the Spiral Arm. She wasn’t the sort of military commander who engaged in battles from behind a desk. She preferred to be in the middle of the action, not just reading summary reports after the fact.
Thanks to the quiet years following the Elemental War, military officers like her were becoming more and more rare. It was an unpleasant side effect of peace. With the disastrous and enigmatic threat of the Shana Rei, however, Keah had to either retrain some of those paperwork strategists—such as her thumb-sitter Grid Admirals Harvard, Haroun, and Handies—or she would have to develop a whole new crop of officers on her own. After dealing with bureaucracy and the sluggish momentum of Confederation Defense Forces officers who knew “how things were done,” Keah supposed that creating new heroes from scratch might just be the easier course.…
Around Earth, in the rubble of the destroyed Moon, new CDF warships were being commissioned and built. They ran their shakedown cruises, and as soon as the ships and captains were pronounced adequate, Keah would dispatch them on patrol in search of the shadows. The CDF had to be ready in the event of the next devastating attack—whenever and wherever it might occur.
A full battle group of CDF vessels and Solar Navy warliners had gotten their butts kicked at Plumas, though, and Keah wasn’t sure how much good expanded patrols would do in the event of a huge shadow cloud unfolding out of space in front of them. But the Confederation colonists took heart in seeing the show of force, nevertheless. Keah didn’t mind showing off.
After a faeros bombardment destroyed the Moon twenty years ago, the rubble had dispersed along the orbital lanes, forming archipelagos of broken rock. Built inside the largest pieces of rubble, the Lunar Orbital Complex, or LOC, had numerous habitat spheres, domed prefab outposts, freestanding space stations, industrial facilities exploiting inclusions of metal, and large repair docks, as well as ship construction yards. Dedicated Roamer work teams put damaged ships back into service while construction work on new Mantas and Juggernauts continued apace. Keah’s flagship, Kutuzov, drifted among them like a mother hen.
“General,” said Octavio Aragao, her comm officer, “the next scout squadron of five Mantas is ready to depart. The commanders are asking if you want to say a few words.”
“I may as well. I’ve got the speech memorized by now.” The CDF spacedocks and Roamer construction centers were getting efficient enough that such launches happened daily. Still, the crews liked to have a pep talk from their commander. Though Keah didn’t think it was the best use of her time or abilities—any more than going to cocktail parties or diplomatic receptions were—it was a necessary part of the job.
As the five Mantas headed away from the LOC spacedock, Keah envied their captains, because she would rather be out patrolling from system to system than staying here as an administrator and figurehead. She would rather “boldly go” than “patiently wait.”
“The safety of the Confederation and the human race lies in our strength and vigilance,” she transmitted to them. “Use your green priests aboard to transmit an alarm the moment you see a hint of the shadows. You’ll protect our anxious populations.” Keah had to glance down at her notes to find out where this particular group was being dispatched. “Your mission will patrol to Gorhum, a vital transportation nexus near Theroc, where there’s a Klikiss transportal that can be used for diplomatic travel.”
In addition to conventional space travel that made use of the modified Ildiran stardrive, the Klikiss transportals—interdimensional wormhole walls scattered on various planets—provided instantaneous transport, but only to specific worlds. The problem was, Klikiss transportals weren’t always located on planets where anyone wanted to go.
The captain of the lead Manta appeared on the Kutuzov’s screen, gave a crisp salute. “You can count on us, General.”
“Of course I can. We don’t understand the new enemy just yet, but we’re learning as fast as we can.” The Ildirans had shared designs for their ancient laser cannons and sun bombs, and before long, Keah would be able to equip all CDF ships with devastating weapons against the Shana Rei. The Solar Navy just dusted off the ancient designs and put them back into production without a thought of revising them; Ildirans were never known for innovation. Her own people, though, should be able to significantly improve the weapon yield with a few tweaks and adjustments. She never minded showing off human ingenuity in front of her friend and rival Adar Zan’nh.
The newly dispatched Manta cruisers flew away from the LOC and headed into interplanetary space. Before long, they engaged their stardrives and vanished.
Now, time to get down to the day’s business. Within the hour, a shuttle arrived from Earth, as expected. Keah glanced at her appointment log reminder. Deputy Eldred Cain had come up for an inspection tour, accompanied by a chief weapons scientist, Jocko Krieger, who had modified the Ildiran sun bomb designs. Keah didn’t know Dr. Krieger, but he looked good on paper: an ambitious type A man who would come in on assignments, bulldoze his underlings into Herculean accomplishments, and then transfer jobs to do it all over again with another seemingly impossible task. Dr. Krieger had his method down to an art, pushing his workers very close to the breaking point, and then getting out of town before they would mutiny against him. Not a strategy for making friends, Keah thought, but she couldn’t argue with his track record.
She left the bridge to meet Deputy Cain and the weapons scientist down in the main launching bay. They would take a shuttle to the artificial laboratory habitat where Krieger’s new-model sun bombs were being mass-produced, based on his pumped-up designs.
As she rode the lift down, habitually straightening her uniform, Keah allowed herself a faint smile. Deputy Cain was an older man, not photogenic, but unquestionably competent. He had served the Hansa’s former Chairman Wenceslas, but plainly had no desire to take over the role. Cain’s loyalty to the man did not extend to stupidity, however, and he had ultimately turned on Wenceslas before the corrupt Chairman could bring about the fall of human civilization. Good call, Keah thought.
She liked Deputy Cain well enough. He was quiet, no-nonsense, not full of himself, as so many politicians were. She and the Deputy had even had dinner together on his terrace on Earth while watching the nightly meteor showers caused by stray lunar fragments burning up in the atmosphere.
As Keah emerged from the lift, Deputy Cain stood next to the weapons scientist, looking quiet, unruffled, and unreadable next to the assigned shuttle. Jocko Krieger was a short and fidgety man with dark hair, eyebrows that needed a trim, and a habit of checking the time.
After a brief exchange of greetings, the scientist said, “We should head off to the weapons station. I’ve been in contact with my team, and their production is at full capacity, so it’s a good time to show off their capabilities.” He looked at Keah with faint challenge. “I hope you weren’t planning on meetings and conference room briefings? I wouldn’t want to interrupt their efficient process flow.”
The General suppressed a chuckle. “Conference room briefings? You don’t know me very well, Dr. Krieger. Let’s get moving.” She knew how to pigeonhole the scientist now: short and stocky, scrappy, always trying to increase his stature by diminishing others. Small penis syndrome.
Krieger looked surprised. “Good, General. We’ll get along just fine.”
When the scientist trudged into the shuttle, Deputy Cain gave her a quick apologetic smile. “I think he’s anxious to impress you.”
“I’m willing to be impressed.”
The shuttle pilot flew them past the busy LOC spacedock operations, the cargo ships and the tugs that brought in huge structural components for new warship construction, then headed toward a more distant cluster of rubble and artificial orbiting facilities.
As they cruised toward the manufacturing installation, Dr. Krieger called up design specs on a film screen that he unrolled in front of him and presented them to Keah. “First off, General, I want to assure you that we can do better than the Ildirans. Easily.” He had a smug smile. “It’s typical. For instance, their original stardrive design was ingenious, but they never even thought about improving it, and humans substantially enhanced the stardrive in only a few years. Same goes for the Ildiran process of skymining on gas giants. They plod along—we run.” He called up blueprints and calculations, 3D models. “The sun bombs are no exception. A good start—and then we add the finesse.”
Keah didn’t have to follow all the technobabble he spouted; Dr. Krieger was just attempting to sell her on his confidence. “So, for a proof of concept, we manufactured a hundred sun bombs based on the old model, which is all well and good. Those have been delivered to the LOC for distribution among patrol ships.”
“A good start,” the General said. “Original-design sun bombs damaged the Shana Rei hex ships at Plumas, and they wrecked a portion of the nightshade over Theroc. Nothing to sneeze at.”
“Of course,” Krieger said, sounding dismissive nevertheless. “The sun bombs were a game changer, but I don’t just want to change the game—I want to win it. My team modified the ancient designs, and now we’re producing Mark II sun bombs, which should achieve at least a thirty percent increase in energy flux. In only three weeks, I’ve got the entire industrial installation devoted to manufacturing the new design.” His lips quirked in a hard smile. “I promised you results. You won’t be disappointed.”
“Good. I hate to be disappointed.”
Through the windowports they saw the well-lit free-orbiting lab complex where weapons scientists and technicians manufactured Krieger’s supersized sun bombs. Satellite storage bays were tethered to the main complex. Cargo ships delivered new materials for the assembly lines.
“My crews will keep working at full speed,” Krieger said. “I assumed you wouldn’t want to interrupt their work just for an inspection? That could cost us between one and three completed sun bombs.”
Deputy Cain said to the weapons scientist, “We understand the emergency situation, Dr. Krieger. Are you certain you have the appropriate fail-safes and containment systems?”
“It’s a matter of balancing priorities. Too many regulations strangle our output. If you want to be absolutely certain you won’t get a paper cut on your hands, you can wear thick, metal-reinforced gloves … but you’ll find it difficult to get any paperwork done.”
Over the intercom, the shuttle pilot announced, “Docking in twenty minutes.”
Krieger contacted the installation without waiting for an acknowledgment from the General. He looked like a father who was inordinately proud of a child performing in a school play. He smiled in anticipation.
But the audio that came back through the comm startled him. Station alarms ratcheted, voices shouted, and a frantic face came on the filmscreen in front of Dr. Krieger. With all the background turmoil, the General heard only snatches of words: “Rogue chain reaction” and “Emergency dampers—all of them!”
All three of them were looking at the shuttle’s internal comm screen rather than directly out the windowport, which saved their eyesight when the installation suddenly blossomed into a blinding flare like a tiny sun going supernova.
The pilot reacted by swerving the shuttle at high G in a complete one-eighty turn, which threw Keah, Cain, and Krieger up against the bulkhead. The blinding light from the explosion washed over the shuttle, but the pilot raced away from the shock front until they were beyond the worst of the blast zone. “Everyone all right back there?”
“We’re intact,” Keah said. “Call in emergency crews. We need to rescue any survivors, salvage what we can.”
Deputy Cain picked himself up from the deck. “There won’t be any survivors, General.”
Dr. Krieger was aghast. “It’s all … vaporized.”
Keah said, “Dr. Krieger, I want teams to do an immediate postmortem and restore production on the traditional Ildiran sun bombs in the meantime. We can’t leave the CDF defenseless.”
Krieger whispered, “It shouldn’t have … I double-checked…”
Deputy Cain said, “I will assist in selecting a new team, General. Fortunately, all their work was transmitted to a real-time off-site backup. We haven’t lost anything.”
“Except for an entire weapons facility. And all those people.”
“True, General,” the Deputy said. “Except for that.”