Aurora Rising: The Complete Collection (125 page)

He leapt out of the chair and hurried through the cabin. “We need to go back.”

“I agree we do, but what—”

He was fishing around in his pack, previously tossed in the corner for eventual unloading, and came out with one of the tech repulsion orbs.

“We need to destroy that ship factory, and I know how we can do it.”

57

ROMANE

I
NDEPENDENT
C
OLONY

N
EW
M
AYA HAS CEASED COMMUNICATIONS
as of fourteen minutes ago.

Mia bit back a frown as she dumped the contents of the grocery bag on the counter and fished her pack out of the closet. “Thank you, Meno. Keep me updated.”

I always do.

The MREs, energy bars and nutrient-fortified drinks had cost a small fortune. She should have acquired them last week before the entire galaxy knew about the aliens. Now merchants were taking full advantage of the steadily elevating panic.

She couldn’t decide whether it was blatant extortion or shrewd capitalism at work; she’d forked over the credits regardless. The time for taking a stand on high-minded philosophical principle had long since passed.

The news feed had burst to life as soon as she’d entered the house. She increased the volume so she was able to hear it while she went into the bedroom to collect some clothes. Her prior emergency pack was now graduating to a full-scale long-term survival pack.

“I’m honored to welcome Earth Alliance Prime Minister Brennon, Senecan Federation Chairman Vranas and all the representatives of their governments to Romane, though I deeply regret the circumstances which have brought you here. Romane values its role as a peaceful, prosperous independent world. I hope the spirit of our colony can help you reach a place of mutual respect and understanding and guide you to your own peace.”

She chuckled a little to herself—
two…no, three comfortable work pants
—at Ledesme’s grand speech. The governor executed a masterful stroke when she volunteered Romane to serve as the host for this Peace Summit. Coupled with her generous sharing of their analysis of the alien ships with both sides, in a matter of days the governor had increased Romane’s standing exponentially. Mia might have helped a tiny bit.

The Summit almost hadn’t happened here, for one simple reason: the aliens were
close
. But their progress west was slowing. New Maya wasn’t located appreciably farther west than other colonies which had already fallen. Romane sat nearly a day closer to both Seneca and Earth than the sole viable alternative, Atlantis, and there was no time to waste.
Four tanks, one turtleneck, a pullover….

She wasn’t running but she was preparing. As thanks for her efforts in this whole disaster the governor had offered her a seat on the administration’s transport should a full-scale evacuation be ordered. Mia felt extremely grateful but was also cognizant of the frequent fate of best-laid plans.

Romane would not evacuate unless and until there remained no other choice, and by that point chaos was certain to have descended. The bag she was packing would serve her well enough wherever the transport ended up but would also serve her well if she never made it off the planet.

She was glad the bureaucrats managed to see past their narrow perspectives and realize they needed to put aside imagined differences and work together before everyone died. Whether the changes of heart had come in time to prevent everyone from dying remained to be seen. She was glad Caleb, and Alex, had been cleared of wrongdoing; Alex’s mother was even attending the Summit. She’d be more glad once she heard from him. Them. One of them, preferably both.

But she couldn’t waste energy and brain power worrying about Caleb and his girlfriend. She needed to worry about her own survival now.

She tossed a basic toiletries kit in the pack and closed it, then took it to the front door, set it against the wall and straightened up. “Meno, I’m coming to you. I want to run through some simulations on the aliens’ movements.”

“Romane will proudly stand side-by-side with a united humanity to meet these—”

“—invaders with the full might and skill of the human race. Thank you.”

Miriam ticked off the seconds until she could exit the public spectacle and get to work.
3…2…1….
She stood, acknowledged Brennon’s nod—a signal his directives had not changed during Governor Ledesme’s speech—and headed for a far smaller conference room down the hall.

The Summit was being held at the Carina Center on Romane. She almost wished she had the luxury of relaxing, for it was by far the most elegant, modern convention facility she had ever visited. The view outside the shuttle during the brief flight from the spaceport had suggested that much of the city exhibited a similar level of class.

She decided if they somehow survived this invasion, when the war was over she would take a…va-ca-tion. The word rolled strangely in her mind. And her…vacation…would be to Romane.

But right now she would do her job, because if she didn’t the facility and the city which supported it were likely to soon be a pile of smoldering rubble.

Field Marshal Gianno had managed to beat her to the conference room. If the Summit went on for longer than a day she’d need to discover how the woman had done so. They had spoken twice via holo in the last two days but had never met in person.

There was no procedure for formalities between officers of equivalent rank from opposing militaries, so she merely offered her hand in what remained a universal greeting. “It’s a pleasure to meet you in person, Marshal Gianno.”

The woman grasped her hand crisply and peered past Miriam’s shoulder. “It’s only us, correct?”

“For the moment, I believe so.”

Gianno pulled out a chair and sat. “Call me Eleni, then. We have time for nothing else.”

“So we do not. And it’s Miriam.” She took the seat across from her counterpart. “In that vein, I propose we simply assume the politicians will reach a peace deal—for if they do not I shall murder them myself—and move forward as if they’ve done so. As you so eloquently put it, we have time for nothing else.”

“I agree.” Gianno placed a small square module on the desk and activated it; multiple screens burst to life in the space above the table.

“We haven’t yet engaged the alien ships as you did—or anyone who may have done so has not made it out alive to share their experience. But we have had some success capturing information using long-range reconnaissance squads.

“Our latest intel indicates four superdreadnoughts each at Hadron and Midgard and six at Dair. Eight ships left New Riga seventeen hours ago, as well as four from Lycaon a few hours later. Neither group could be tracked at superluminal speeds. We’re monitoring for them at Brython, Nystad and Elathan. And, obviously, Seneca.”

Miriam shared similar information: forty-four ships currently attacking six worlds and a minimum of sixteen in transit from colonies whose decimation had been accomplished. They both settled back in their chairs to contemplate what in the aggregate made for the beginnings of real, hard intel.

“So on average it’s taking the aliens two days and four ships to eradicate a world of 50,000, five days and six ships for a population of 100,000, and at least one week and considerably more ships for anything larger.”

“They haven’t departed Messium yet, then?”

“No. Though by this point there can’t be much left for them to demolish so I expect they will depart within hours. We destroyed two and damaged three superdreadnoughts in the battle, as well as around two hundred of the swarmers, but it was only a fraction of the force they fielded.”

“Impressive though, especially considering your ships couldn’t talk to one another and coordinate their tactics.”

Miriam looked across the table in surprise. “Has no one told you? We can talk to one another.”

The peace deal was brokered in less than four hours.

A formal cessation of hostilities was signed by the politicians on the spot and a bare-bones treaty approved subject to the respective legislatures’ passage, which was expected by the next morning.

Military forces were ordered to withdraw from all Alliance-Federation conflict zones. Under the circumstances the vast majority of those forces were then ordered either east or to the Sol or Senecan stellar systems.

In a somewhat unexpected turn of events, Desna’s fate was to be left to the Desnans themselves. The colonists were to hold a referendum within the week choosing whether to rejoin the Alliance, stay part of the Federation or go it alone as an Independent. Conventional wisdom said they’d return to the Alliance, but the Federation occupation had not been a harsh or violent one and some commentators conceded it might go a different way.

Over the course of the four hours it took to hammer out the treaty, Miriam and Eleni’s meeting gained more attendees, in person and via holo. Freed of conflicting objectives and at last facing a single front in a single war—even if that front extended for more than six kiloparsecs—it only remained for the two most powerful women in the galaxy to do the impossible: formulate a strategy for defending against, facing and ultimately defeating the enemy.

58

NEW BABEL

I
NDEPENDENT
C
OLONY

T
HE
T
RIENE HEADQUARTERS COMPLEX
was utilitarian. Functional. Brutally efficient.

The decor wasn’t drab by any objective measure, though it lacked a certain refined style Olivia preferred. Still, she had to concede it likely got the job done well enough.

She strode through the…she’d call it offices, but in reality it was a hybrid command center / manufacturing plant / storage facility…exuding enough authority to ward off most interference.

Those who didn’t recognize her and felt confident enough to assert dominance were, in most cases, restrained by those who did recognize her. There was one unfortunate incident involving a security guard. He should heal sufficiently, assuming a decent med kit lay in close proximity.

The trek over had been marked by far greater hazards. The streets were nothing less than bedlam, descending toward riotous.

New Babel represented one of the westernmost colonies in settled space and had become the default destination for every less-than-upstanding citizen in the galaxy fleeing the aliens. This was a problem. The colony maintained a rudimentary but delicate ecosystem, and it was currently being upended by the influx of tens of thousands of new people, many of them lacking basic manners and most of them carrying no obligations to restrain their behavior. The lack of a single organized security force, long an asset, was rapidly becoming a liability.

Aiden was waiting on her when she reached the atrium of his suite. He doubtless would have been notified of her approach by multiple people.

He leaned on the door to his inner office, his arms crossed in feigned casualness over his chest. His eyes were guarded and he was not smiling. She expected no less; she had arrived unannounced and uninvited. Here in his domain, she was for all intents and purposes an enemy.

“Ms. Montegreu. I’d say this is a surprise, but you know it is and intended it as such.”

She shrugged with equally feigned dismissiveness. “There wasn’t an opportunity to arrange otherwise.” Mindful of their audience of a secretary, two lieutenants and three enforcers, she maintained a respectful distance. “May we speak in private?”

Instead of answering her, Aiden jerked his head in the direction of two of the enforcers.

As they approached her she offered up a Daemon and a gamma blade. “I needed to protect myself on the way over. If you’ve been outside in the last several days, you’re aware the streets are inordinately dangerous.”

“Understood. Your weapons will be returned to you when you depart.”