Original: "The Remnant Fleet," Chapter 24
A whole chapter before dinner?! What! That's what happens when you get the the climax and the big fight scenes! ;)
Chapter Twenty-four
The sun shone brightly overhead. She stood shoulder-to-shoulder with her fellow graduates; the four-hundred-and-eighty-second class to graduate from the Balanquin Military Institute. Her hair was braided to honor the four generations of women in her family who came before her, hands clasped behind her back and chin held high as the opvoedor read out the name of each student. In a matter of minutes they would be released as full-rank ensigns in the protector elite.
Even in her dreams, she never saw the attack coming. It announced itself with a roar and a wave of heat against her back. In thirty seconds, half her graduating class was eradicated. The opvoedors on the stage was incinerated in the initial blast. The initial address echoed in Bauwerji’s ears as she ran for cover: “Family. Friends. Prestigious Alumni. We are all gathered here today.” Another blast destroyed the risers. Bauwerji saw bodies falling, clothes and skin burning as they hit the ground.
For the first time in two centuries, the Balanquin were at war. The opening salvo had left them defenseless. In the coming weeks, their shipyards would be targeted and destroyed. The Catarrh had spent years plotting and planning the best way to cripple their enemies before a single shot could be fired. Their patience had paid off.
A screaming alarm cut through the memories, waking her up from where she had fallen. She was in the pilothouse, which was lit green by emergency lighting. She tasted blood in her mouth and turned her head to spit it out as she got back to her feet. The yeomen were either slumped in their seats or frantically speaking into headsets as the screens in front of them flickered. Bauwerji squeezed her eyes shut and then opened them wide so she could focus. Admiral Reshef’s voice cut through the din.
“--defenses and life support are the priorities. Repair them first and we’ll get to the other shit when we can.”
Nerea Paisian nodded before the nanoids making up his body began breaking off into swarms to tackle the repairs. Bauwerji approached Indira from behind.
“What are your orders for me, ma’am?”
Indira looked at her. “Lords. Are you okay?”
“Fine.” She touched her face and felt sticky blood on her cheek. “I don’t exactly have time to stop by the infirmary and get patched up. Give me something to do.”
Indira sighed, giving up the futile argument she had planned. “We lost all sensors and communication in the docks. If your friend survived that reckless stunt, go down there and escort the stone to the med center. I want Cordwainer to have it as soon as possible.”
Bauwerji nodded and headed off. She took the time in the lift to wipe the blood from her face. She’d fought with worse injuries and had the scars to prove it. She’d gone up against a Catarrh squadron with two broken fingers and a cracked patella, and that was in the desert. Despite the current situation, the Quay was still temperature controlled. It would be easy.
Her destination was the pavilion. As soon as the alert sounded, all non-essential personnel should have remained where they were or found a safe haven. She exited the lift and looked down at the row of shops and delicatessens, glad to see they’d all complied. She began jogging toward the docks when she caught movement from the corner of her eye. She glanced to the side and saw Constable Heely running to intercept her.
“Constable,” she said. “Have you been briefed on what’s happening?”
Heely kept her hand flat as she swung her arm around, cutting the back of her hand against Bauwerji’s throat. Bauwerji’s forward momentum helped give the blow more strength. Her air was cut off as she fell flat on her back, coughing violently as she gripped her throat. Heely stepped over Bauwerji to straddle her body and bent down, wrapping her hands in her tunic to haul her up. Bauwerji threw a punch into Heely’s stomach. The angle was wrong and the blow didn’t deliver much pain.
“I’ve always regretted that I was never assigned to Pelorum. The fun I could’ve had with you.” She twisted at the waist and hurled Bauwerji against the wall. Her shoulder hit hard enough to dent the metal, but she didn’t have a chance to crumple to the ground. Heely was on her again, hoisting her up and slamming her back against the wall. Bauwerji’s feet weren’t touching the floor.
“You know I’ve never tasted a Balanquin? I’d prefer male, but I hear the ladies have parts that are serviceable. Is that true? You got a dick for me, Bowery?”
Bauwerji spit in the Karezz woman’s face. Heely stepped back, let go of Bauwerji, and waited for her to fall forward before kneeing her in the stomach. Bauwerji gasped for air again as Heely grabbed a handful of her hair and hauled her through a doorway. As she tumbled, Bauwerji saw that it was an abandoned Human diner. Plates and glasses had fallen from the tables, and food was smeared over the tile by patrons attempting to flee to safer locales. Bauwerji hit the floor hard and looked back to see Heely looming over her in the darkness.
“This isn’t you, Constable.”
“Oh, it’s me. I’ve been fighting the urge to do this for so long. In a few days, I won’t have the chance. You’re an endangered species, Bauwerji. As soon as the Wakerran get here, I’m going to hand over the stone. And they’ll hand over Pelorum.”
Bauwerji grunted and started to get up. “She got to you, too. The Socigines. She’s in your head, Mara.”
“I’m fully aware of that.” She kicked Bauwerji down again. “I was so curious about her. When I looked into the pod, I could hear her offering me answers to all of my questions. The Aphelion Project neuters the Karezza. It treats us like their guard dogs. Cowed. Trained. Fenced in.” She grabbed Bauwerji’s hair again and forced her to stand up. She slammed Bauwerji against the counter. “But you know better than that, don’t you? Balanquin know what the Karezz are capable of.” She closed her fist around Bauwerji’s throat and squeezed. “You know exactly what I’m going to do to you, isn’t that right, little Balanquin?”
Bauwerji managed to nod. “I do. That’s why I won’t regret this.”
She’d been gripping the shard tightly enough that blood was dripping down her hand. She had picked it up when she hit the ground, afraid she wouldn’t have a chance to use it. For a moment she was afraid it would make her hand slip, but she managed to shove it into the soft meat of Heely’s gut with no problem. Heely backed up, startled by the counterattack, and Bauwerji swung her other hand up. The serrated knife sank into Heely’s shoulder and seated itself with a satisfying and sickening thump.
Heely rocked back on her heels. Bauwerji clenched her teeth and braced herself against the counter. She brought her foot up and kicked the plate shard, sinking it even deeper into Heely’s body. Blood poured out of the other woman’s mouth as Bauwerji used her fist to hammer the knife down to its hilt in Heely’s shoulder. Heely took another step backward and slipped on some spilled food. She went down, and Bauwerji kicked a chair out of the way so Heely would land flat on the floor.
“I would’ve had to pull my punches if I thought the Socigines jika was in charge of you. Thanks for taking away my moral quandary.”
Heely gasped for air, but Bauwerji wasn’t interested in witnessing her death throes. She walked out of the deli and stepped back out onto the concourse. The first thing she saw was someone else running toward her, and she braced herself for a fight she knew she wouldn’t win. She relaxed when she saw that it was Cicero. She was also bloody, her uniform blouse torn to reveal the blue-gray undershirt. She was cradling a wrapped bundle the size of a large baby against her stomach as she ran.
She slowed when she saw Bauwerji. “What the hell...?”
Bauwerji waved her to go on. “Threat neutralized. Go. Get the stone to Dr. Littlefoot.”
Cicero picked up speed again. “Be safe.”
“You too,” Bauwerji said.
She watched Cicero disappear around a bend. She took a moment to consider her next course of action. Her orders were to escort the stone, but following that order would only slow Cicero down. The next best choice would be to confirm the docks were still salvageable. She used the rail to keep herself upright until she trusted her legs to support her on their own. Her feet shuffled a bit, and she gripped the rail tightly enough that she was afraid of denting the metal, but she continued onward.
“Bauwerji.”
The voice came from her earpiece, mired in static and half-lost. But it was undeniably Cicero. “I’m here. You’re fading, but I can hear you.”
“Don’t die. I’ve finally decided how much I’m willing to give up to be with you. So if you die now, it would be a really shitty thing to do.”
Bauwerji smiled weakly. “I don’t want you to give up anything. I just want you to be with me as you are, Cicerone.”
“Whatever,” Cicero said. “The point stands. Don’t die, darling.”
“I’ll do my best. Some reckless asshole crashed her ship into the station.”
“Yeah. I probably could’ve thought that through better, huh?”
Bauwerji grunted. “I will stay alive for you, Cicero.”
“Then I’ll do the same for you.”
“You’re breaking up. We’ll speak later.”
Cicero’s farewell was lost in the next burst of static. Bauwerji ended the communication and descended carefully into the docks. The Sastruga had left some very obvious damage in its arrival; the four docking clamps on either side of the slip were twisted and bent in horrible angles. One had lost its diamond-shaped head completely. Dockworkers were frantically hurrying about to minimize the threat level. Bauwerji could see the shimmering wall of light that marked the end of atmosphere and the beginning of deadly space. They could survive a brief failure, but anything more than a few seconds would be catastrophic. She looked for someone to request a status update and decided everyone was too busy to waste time filling her in.
The Sastruga itself was heartbreaking to see. It rested at a horribly unnatural angle in its slip, tethered but only barely by the few cranes that were still intact. It was steaming, and the exterior plating was missing in several vital areas. Cicero’s crew was out of the ship, some nursing injuries while others seemed more concerned about fixing their ship’s damage.
Bauwerji decided there was nothing she could do but get in the way, but there was another option available to her. She ran through the sea of people, ducking one way to avoid a person and turning sideways so she could get around a machine, her eye always on her destination. A small private slip at the absolute end of the docks, a private berth where she was allowed to keep her personal ship, the Biju Sprinter. It was a Balanquin bracijera, the ‘little ship that won the big war,’ as Indira often called it. The ships were so small that Cetidroi weapons couldn’t lock onto them. They were maneuverable enough to get up close and take out the weapon emitters. She could only hope the Wakerran had the same weakness.
It was also the ship that had, against all odds, carried her twenty-one hundred light years to safety after she fled her home planet. The Sprinter meant hope in the face of impossible odds, survival where everyone else could only see death and loss. It was a sleek needle, black with orange accents, a flared tail section. She activated the code that would wake up its systems and climbed inside.
Piloting a bracijera ship required lying on her stomach, legs clenched around the center saddle, hands extended out past her head. It felt as if she was wearing the ship when she flew, her hands manipulating the out-of-view controls as the movement of her body dictated the minute changes in trajectory.
Once the engines were warm, she opened a channel. “Officer Crow to Admiral Reshef.”
“I’m here, Bowery. Give me good news.”
She flexed her hands on the grips that would guide the ship. It was like slipping on an old glove. “You assigned a great crew to the docks. I couldn’t get a sit-rep because everyone was moving too damn fast to get things up and running again.”
“That’s good, I suppose.”
“And...” She hesitated to mention this, but Indira needed to know a crew member was gone. “I killed Constable Heely.”
Silence from the other end. “You what?”
“Indira. She attacked me. She was being manipulated by the Wakerran, but she was in control of her actions. She tried to--”
“I can guess what she tried to do,” Indira said softly. “Are you okay?”
“I’m... I’ll be fine. I just wanted to tell you she wasn’t going to be available.”
“Right. Bauwerji, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. Don’t think about it right now.” She fired the engines.
Indira said, “What was that? Where are you?”
“I’m in the Biju Sprinter. I’m going to see what damage I can do to that Wakerran ship.”
“Bauwerji--”
“Listen, Indira. If the worst happens... find Cicero. Tell her... tell her that... I’m... sorry I lied.”
Indira said, “I will, Bauwerji. Godspeed.”
“Thank you.” She took a deep breath, closed her eyes to whisper a prayer, and disengaged from the slip. She was propelled backward through the force field and, once she was clear, swung her ship around to face the scattered field of broken ships. Beyond it, looming large but still hundreds of thousands of miles away, the Wakerran ship slid forward like an ayyijatopac in the reeds. Bauwerji locked eyes with the ship as if she could see its pilot through the bulkhead. Then she lowered her chin and set off for the first engagement in what she hoped and prayed would be the last war she ever fought.
Chapter Twenty-four
The sun shone brightly overhead. She stood shoulder-to-shoulder with her fellow graduates; the four-hundred-and-eighty-second class to graduate from the Balanquin Military Institute. Her hair was braided to honor the four generations of women in her family who came before her, hands clasped behind her back and chin held high as the opvoedor read out the name of each student. In a matter of minutes they would be released as full-rank ensigns in the protector elite.
Even in her dreams, she never saw the attack coming. It announced itself with a roar and a wave of heat against her back. In thirty seconds, half her graduating class was eradicated. The opvoedors on the stage was incinerated in the initial blast. The initial address echoed in Bauwerji’s ears as she ran for cover: “Family. Friends. Prestigious Alumni. We are all gathered here today.” Another blast destroyed the risers. Bauwerji saw bodies falling, clothes and skin burning as they hit the ground.
For the first time in two centuries, the Balanquin were at war. The opening salvo had left them defenseless. In the coming weeks, their shipyards would be targeted and destroyed. The Catarrh had spent years plotting and planning the best way to cripple their enemies before a single shot could be fired. Their patience had paid off.
A screaming alarm cut through the memories, waking her up from where she had fallen. She was in the pilothouse, which was lit green by emergency lighting. She tasted blood in her mouth and turned her head to spit it out as she got back to her feet. The yeomen were either slumped in their seats or frantically speaking into headsets as the screens in front of them flickered. Bauwerji squeezed her eyes shut and then opened them wide so she could focus. Admiral Reshef’s voice cut through the din.
“--defenses and life support are the priorities. Repair them first and we’ll get to the other shit when we can.”
Nerea Paisian nodded before the nanoids making up his body began breaking off into swarms to tackle the repairs. Bauwerji approached Indira from behind.
“What are your orders for me, ma’am?”
Indira looked at her. “Lords. Are you okay?”
“Fine.” She touched her face and felt sticky blood on her cheek. “I don’t exactly have time to stop by the infirmary and get patched up. Give me something to do.”
Indira sighed, giving up the futile argument she had planned. “We lost all sensors and communication in the docks. If your friend survived that reckless stunt, go down there and escort the stone to the med center. I want Cordwainer to have it as soon as possible.”
Bauwerji nodded and headed off. She took the time in the lift to wipe the blood from her face. She’d fought with worse injuries and had the scars to prove it. She’d gone up against a Catarrh squadron with two broken fingers and a cracked patella, and that was in the desert. Despite the current situation, the Quay was still temperature controlled. It would be easy.
Her destination was the pavilion. As soon as the alert sounded, all non-essential personnel should have remained where they were or found a safe haven. She exited the lift and looked down at the row of shops and delicatessens, glad to see they’d all complied. She began jogging toward the docks when she caught movement from the corner of her eye. She glanced to the side and saw Constable Heely running to intercept her.
“Constable,” she said. “Have you been briefed on what’s happening?”
Heely kept her hand flat as she swung her arm around, cutting the back of her hand against Bauwerji’s throat. Bauwerji’s forward momentum helped give the blow more strength. Her air was cut off as she fell flat on her back, coughing violently as she gripped her throat. Heely stepped over Bauwerji to straddle her body and bent down, wrapping her hands in her tunic to haul her up. Bauwerji threw a punch into Heely’s stomach. The angle was wrong and the blow didn’t deliver much pain.
“I’ve always regretted that I was never assigned to Pelorum. The fun I could’ve had with you.” She twisted at the waist and hurled Bauwerji against the wall. Her shoulder hit hard enough to dent the metal, but she didn’t have a chance to crumple to the ground. Heely was on her again, hoisting her up and slamming her back against the wall. Bauwerji’s feet weren’t touching the floor.
“You know I’ve never tasted a Balanquin? I’d prefer male, but I hear the ladies have parts that are serviceable. Is that true? You got a dick for me, Bowery?”
Bauwerji spit in the Karezz woman’s face. Heely stepped back, let go of Bauwerji, and waited for her to fall forward before kneeing her in the stomach. Bauwerji gasped for air again as Heely grabbed a handful of her hair and hauled her through a doorway. As she tumbled, Bauwerji saw that it was an abandoned Human diner. Plates and glasses had fallen from the tables, and food was smeared over the tile by patrons attempting to flee to safer locales. Bauwerji hit the floor hard and looked back to see Heely looming over her in the darkness.
“This isn’t you, Constable.”
“Oh, it’s me. I’ve been fighting the urge to do this for so long. In a few days, I won’t have the chance. You’re an endangered species, Bauwerji. As soon as the Wakerran get here, I’m going to hand over the stone. And they’ll hand over Pelorum.”
Bauwerji grunted and started to get up. “She got to you, too. The Socigines. She’s in your head, Mara.”
“I’m fully aware of that.” She kicked Bauwerji down again. “I was so curious about her. When I looked into the pod, I could hear her offering me answers to all of my questions. The Aphelion Project neuters the Karezza. It treats us like their guard dogs. Cowed. Trained. Fenced in.” She grabbed Bauwerji’s hair again and forced her to stand up. She slammed Bauwerji against the counter. “But you know better than that, don’t you? Balanquin know what the Karezz are capable of.” She closed her fist around Bauwerji’s throat and squeezed. “You know exactly what I’m going to do to you, isn’t that right, little Balanquin?”
Bauwerji managed to nod. “I do. That’s why I won’t regret this.”
She’d been gripping the shard tightly enough that blood was dripping down her hand. She had picked it up when she hit the ground, afraid she wouldn’t have a chance to use it. For a moment she was afraid it would make her hand slip, but she managed to shove it into the soft meat of Heely’s gut with no problem. Heely backed up, startled by the counterattack, and Bauwerji swung her other hand up. The serrated knife sank into Heely’s shoulder and seated itself with a satisfying and sickening thump.
Heely rocked back on her heels. Bauwerji clenched her teeth and braced herself against the counter. She brought her foot up and kicked the plate shard, sinking it even deeper into Heely’s body. Blood poured out of the other woman’s mouth as Bauwerji used her fist to hammer the knife down to its hilt in Heely’s shoulder. Heely took another step backward and slipped on some spilled food. She went down, and Bauwerji kicked a chair out of the way so Heely would land flat on the floor.
“I would’ve had to pull my punches if I thought the Socigines jika was in charge of you. Thanks for taking away my moral quandary.”
Heely gasped for air, but Bauwerji wasn’t interested in witnessing her death throes. She walked out of the deli and stepped back out onto the concourse. The first thing she saw was someone else running toward her, and she braced herself for a fight she knew she wouldn’t win. She relaxed when she saw that it was Cicero. She was also bloody, her uniform blouse torn to reveal the blue-gray undershirt. She was cradling a wrapped bundle the size of a large baby against her stomach as she ran.
She slowed when she saw Bauwerji. “What the hell...?”
Bauwerji waved her to go on. “Threat neutralized. Go. Get the stone to Dr. Littlefoot.”
Cicero picked up speed again. “Be safe.”
“You too,” Bauwerji said.
She watched Cicero disappear around a bend. She took a moment to consider her next course of action. Her orders were to escort the stone, but following that order would only slow Cicero down. The next best choice would be to confirm the docks were still salvageable. She used the rail to keep herself upright until she trusted her legs to support her on their own. Her feet shuffled a bit, and she gripped the rail tightly enough that she was afraid of denting the metal, but she continued onward.
“Bauwerji.”
The voice came from her earpiece, mired in static and half-lost. But it was undeniably Cicero. “I’m here. You’re fading, but I can hear you.”
“Don’t die. I’ve finally decided how much I’m willing to give up to be with you. So if you die now, it would be a really shitty thing to do.”
Bauwerji smiled weakly. “I don’t want you to give up anything. I just want you to be with me as you are, Cicerone.”
“Whatever,” Cicero said. “The point stands. Don’t die, darling.”
“I’ll do my best. Some reckless asshole crashed her ship into the station.”
“Yeah. I probably could’ve thought that through better, huh?”
Bauwerji grunted. “I will stay alive for you, Cicero.”
“Then I’ll do the same for you.”
“You’re breaking up. We’ll speak later.”
Cicero’s farewell was lost in the next burst of static. Bauwerji ended the communication and descended carefully into the docks. The Sastruga had left some very obvious damage in its arrival; the four docking clamps on either side of the slip were twisted and bent in horrible angles. One had lost its diamond-shaped head completely. Dockworkers were frantically hurrying about to minimize the threat level. Bauwerji could see the shimmering wall of light that marked the end of atmosphere and the beginning of deadly space. They could survive a brief failure, but anything more than a few seconds would be catastrophic. She looked for someone to request a status update and decided everyone was too busy to waste time filling her in.
The Sastruga itself was heartbreaking to see. It rested at a horribly unnatural angle in its slip, tethered but only barely by the few cranes that were still intact. It was steaming, and the exterior plating was missing in several vital areas. Cicero’s crew was out of the ship, some nursing injuries while others seemed more concerned about fixing their ship’s damage.
Bauwerji decided there was nothing she could do but get in the way, but there was another option available to her. She ran through the sea of people, ducking one way to avoid a person and turning sideways so she could get around a machine, her eye always on her destination. A small private slip at the absolute end of the docks, a private berth where she was allowed to keep her personal ship, the Biju Sprinter. It was a Balanquin bracijera, the ‘little ship that won the big war,’ as Indira often called it. The ships were so small that Cetidroi weapons couldn’t lock onto them. They were maneuverable enough to get up close and take out the weapon emitters. She could only hope the Wakerran had the same weakness.
It was also the ship that had, against all odds, carried her twenty-one hundred light years to safety after she fled her home planet. The Sprinter meant hope in the face of impossible odds, survival where everyone else could only see death and loss. It was a sleek needle, black with orange accents, a flared tail section. She activated the code that would wake up its systems and climbed inside.
Piloting a bracijera ship required lying on her stomach, legs clenched around the center saddle, hands extended out past her head. It felt as if she was wearing the ship when she flew, her hands manipulating the out-of-view controls as the movement of her body dictated the minute changes in trajectory.
Once the engines were warm, she opened a channel. “Officer Crow to Admiral Reshef.”
“I’m here, Bowery. Give me good news.”
She flexed her hands on the grips that would guide the ship. It was like slipping on an old glove. “You assigned a great crew to the docks. I couldn’t get a sit-rep because everyone was moving too damn fast to get things up and running again.”
“That’s good, I suppose.”
“And...” She hesitated to mention this, but Indira needed to know a crew member was gone. “I killed Constable Heely.”
Silence from the other end. “You what?”
“Indira. She attacked me. She was being manipulated by the Wakerran, but she was in control of her actions. She tried to--”
“I can guess what she tried to do,” Indira said softly. “Are you okay?”
“I’m... I’ll be fine. I just wanted to tell you she wasn’t going to be available.”
“Right. Bauwerji, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. Don’t think about it right now.” She fired the engines.
Indira said, “What was that? Where are you?”
“I’m in the Biju Sprinter. I’m going to see what damage I can do to that Wakerran ship.”
“Bauwerji--”
“Listen, Indira. If the worst happens... find Cicero. Tell her... tell her that... I’m... sorry I lied.”
Indira said, “I will, Bauwerji. Godspeed.”
“Thank you.” She took a deep breath, closed her eyes to whisper a prayer, and disengaged from the slip. She was propelled backward through the force field and, once she was clear, swung her ship around to face the scattered field of broken ships. Beyond it, looming large but still hundreds of thousands of miles away, the Wakerran ship slid forward like an ayyijatopac in the reeds. Bauwerji locked eyes with the ship as if she could see its pilot through the bulkhead. Then she lowered her chin and set off for the first engagement in what she hoped and prayed would be the last war she ever fought.