Vanguard

Chapter 7

Eventually, the people and their representatives got tired of debating and discussing. Various council members gave heartfelt speeches promising to protect the colony no matter what sacrifices had to be demanded of someone else. Mele found herself being escorted by a couple of police officers through the crowds leaving the amphitheater and to a newly constructed office along with Council Members Chisholm, Kim, Odom, and Camagan.

Inside the office, a display on one wall showed that Lieutenant Geary was also part of the meeting. Mele eyed him warily, grateful for the chance to get more of a feel for what Geary was like. Her experiences with officers had not always been positive ones.

A frazzled-looking Council President Chisholm sat down at the big desk in the room, rubbing her temples. “That was interesting.” She turned to Mele. “Now, we would like to hear your recommendations.”

Mele nodded to her, then to the others, shifting to an attention posture without even realizing it before she spoke. “You’ve got three options, as I see it. One is to do nothing, to just accept that Scatha is going to take over that continent piece by piece, but I don’t have the impression anyone here wants to do that.

“A second option is to improvise whatever weaponry you can and hit them with as many people as you can at once. You’ve got thousands of people in the colony, so if enough could be persuaded to join, you could overwhelm even a force of a hundred soldiers that way. That would solve the problem pretty fast, but it would likely be a really expensive option.”

“By expensive,” Odom said, his voice heavy, “you mean in terms of lives?”

“Yes, sir. At least a few hundred dead. I don’t recommend doing that.”

“I’m happy to hear it,” Odom replied, sounding sarcastic.

“The third option,” Mele said, “which is what I’d recommend, is to get together a smaller force of volunteers, take enough time to train them and manufacture at least a few military-grade weapons, then stage a raid to take out that antiorbital cannon and any other installations or equipment we could manage. After one raid they’d probably jack up their security, so after that it’d be a matter of wearing them down by picking off Scatha patrols or individual soldiers. If you put enough pressure on them, they could crack before reinforcements arrive.”

“Reinforcements?” Chisholm demanded.

“Sure,” Mele said. “No way Scatha will just leave that small a colony there. They’ll grow it, add more defenses, get dug in.”

“They’re going to try to control that entire continent,” Leigh Camagan said.

“If we plant another city to block their expansion—” Odom began.

“We can’t,” Chisholm broke in. “We don’t have enough people or equipment to split off a new city already. Anything we put out there would be small, isolated, and in danger from those soldiers!”

“I agree with that,” Mele said.

“You said you needed enough time,” Kim said to Mele. “How long is that?”

“A few weeks, at least, depending on the quality and experience of the volunteers. It would still be risky, but if you knew what you were doing it would be the least risky defensive move. A few weeks isn’t enough time for any help to arrive, if you send for it, but it could prepare the ground for when you have more capability.”

“We are going to ask nearby star systems for help,” Chisholm said. “Did you gain any knowledge of their military forces while coming here?”

“Not much, no,” Mele admitted. “Most of them seemed like you.” She didn’t go into detail, not wanting to rub in their lack of resources against aggression.

“Kosatka,” Kim said. “That’s only two jumps away from us. And they’ve been established longer. If there is any star system nearby that could help, it would be Kosatka.”

Mele saw the council members turn to look at the image of Lieutenant Geary.

“We would have to send you,” Chisholm said. “You are our only space defense, but we have no other ship available. How long would a trip to Kosatka and back require?”

Lieutenant Geary looked toward something to one side of him. “At least three weeks,” he said, “counting time spent traveling to and from jump points. More likely a full month given the problems we still have with the power core on the Squall. We can’t afford to push it hard the whole way.”

“Why would Kosatka help us?” Odom asked.

“With Scatha being this aggressive against us,” Leigh Camagan said, “they might have pushed at Kosatka as well.”

“Yes,” Kim said, nodding vigorously. “Even if they haven’t been directly attacked by Scatha, they must know what’s happening. If Scatha gets strong enough, someday it will threaten Kosatka, too. But we can’t just let Scatha keep building here for the months required for us to get military equipment from Kosatka. Assuming Kosatka does help, which is not something we can be sure of. And does Kosatka even have any military equipment? We must go with the proposed option three!”

Leigh Camagan eyed Mele. “Perhaps we should pursue option three and send for help. Put together a small force to wear at Scatha’s presence on our world, while we also send for more means to combat them. You’re a former Marine. Would you be willing to train and lead such a force?”

“We know nothing about her!” Odom protested. “Except what she has told us!”

“It will be easy enough to test her knowledge and abilities,” Kim said.

“But why should she be counted on to defend Glenlyon?”

They all looked at her, expecting an answer. Mele had to think about the question before she replied. Why did she care about Glenlyon? “You people seem to be like my kind of people. Not looking for a fight but willing to defend yourselves if someone else pushes you. Scatha seems to be the bully in the neighborhood. If I saw a bully giving people trouble, I’d help.”

“What was your highest rank in the Marines?” Chisholm asked.

Mele shrugged slightly. “I was a sergeant for a few weeks.”

“A few weeks? What happened?”

“I had a disagreement with an officer about faking data on a unit readiness report. She got busted afterward for ordering me to fake the data, and I got busted for using disrespectful language when I refused.”

“I see.” Chisholm looked at the others.

Leigh Camagan picked up the questioning. “Is that why you left Franklin’s armed forces?”

Mele shook her head. “Not entirely. There were some other violations of good order and discipline. Just minor stuff. But because of them, when the force downsized, my name popped up as a good candidate.”

“Why should we trust you with this job?” Odom asked in a sharp voice. “How can we be sure you’ll be able to do it?”

“First of all,” Mele said, “I haven’t said I’ll do it. I was just a grunt. Not an officer. I haven’t led or organized anything like what you need.”

Leigh Camagan gave Mele an arch look. “Are you saying that you, a Marine, are not capable of doing this? That it is beyond your ability?”

Mele grinned at her. “You’re good.”

“I know. What’s your answer?”

“If you put it like that, I’m willing to give it a shot.”

“You still haven’t told us why you should be offered the job,” Odom said.

“It’s not like I volunteered for this,” Mele said. “I said I’d offer you what advice I could, and I did that. You guys are pushing me to volunteer to do more. It wasn’t my idea.”

“She’s all we’ve got,” Kim said.

“That’s a good reason,” Mele agreed. “I’ll tell you this. I don’t screw up on important things. I never have and never will. When lives are on the line, I do things right.”

“You feel a sense of responsibility?” Leigh Camagan asked.

“I don’t let down people who are depending on me,” Mele said.

“Why should we believe you?” Odom pressed.

Leigh Camagan gestured toward Mele as she answered him. “Because she refused an order to fake data on a report. Because she told us she was only a sergeant for a few weeks. Because she admitted to other minor indiscretions. She didn’t try to paint a perfect picture of herself or withhold information that we wouldn’t have been aware of if she hadn’t told us. She’s been honest, which I think is the most important quality we can ask for.”

“She is our only trained and experienced option,” Kim said.

“Lieutenant Geary,” Leigh Camagan said, “what is your judgment regarding Mele Darcy?”

Mele didn’t think Lieutenant Geary looked happy at being called on. “I don’t know her any better than the rest of you. But in terms of her attitude, she strikes me as a professional. And the way she carries herself is a sign that she does know what she’s doing.”

“Do you trust her?” Odom asked.

Lieutenant Rob Geary looked Mele in the eyes. She met his gaze calmly.

He nodded. “Yes.”

Council President Chisholm exhaled heavily. “Then that is decided. We will speak to the rest of the council and work out an appropriate loyalty oath and contract for you, Mele Darcy. I am sure the council will accept our recommendations regarding you.”

“So, what am I going to be?” Mele asked.

Leigh Camagan smiled crookedly at her. “You will be the commander, and at the moment the entire force, of the consolidated Glenlyon Marines and Ground Forces. Consider yourself to be once again a sergeant until informed otherwise.”

“How are we going to pay for this?” Council President Chisholm asked.

“We’ll have to take money intended for other purposes,” Leigh Camagan said. “And try to raise some more without harming the growth of the colony’s economy.”

“This does not need to be discussed in her presence,” Odom said, gesturing toward Mele.

“Can you give us an estimate of what you’ll need to train a force and deal with that antiorbital weapon?” Leigh Camagan asked Mele. “Just something rough, so we know what we’ll be dealing with.”

“How big a force am I going to be authorized to recruit?” Mele asked.

“How many do you need?” Kim asked her. “And what equipment?”

Three hundred, she wanted to say. But that would be ridiculous. How could she train that many people? Just organizing them would take weeks. “Fifty people. I’m assuming at least some of those won’t work out. For equipment, I’ll take whatever you can get me.”

“Good,” Leigh Camagan said. “Lieutenant Geary will be leaving orbit about this planet soon. Please coordinate with him before then on any matters that need… coordination.”

“Yes, ma’am.” The moment seemed to call for a salute, so even though Mele wasn’t in uniform (uniforms—she’d need to do something about those, too) she raised her right hand in a firm salute to the council members. Pivoting smartly on one heel, she marched out of the office, wondering just what the hell she had gotten herself into this time.

Mele hoped that Lochan Nakamura was doing a better job of staying out of trouble than she was.

Even though there wasn’t a spark of romance between them, Carmen Ochoa and Lochan Nakamura had fallen into the habit of eating most meals together. She wondered how long that little ritual would survive once they arrived at Kosatka and how much of the irritability she was feeling was attributable to having been in jump space for days as opposed to being nervous about what she needed to say. “Lochan, we’re going to reach Kosatka tomorrow. There’s something you need to know about me before then.”

He raised an inquisitive eyebrow at her as he took a drink. “From that solemn voice and look, it’s something bad, which I find hard to believe. Are you going to tell me you really are a lawyer?”

That made her smile briefly despite her mood. “There are worse things than lawyers. Lochan, I’m a Red.”

“A what?”

“You really don’t know? Back on Earth, in the entire solar system, anyone from Mars is called a Red.”

Lochan frowned at her and put down his fork. “The way you said that made it sound like an insult.”

“It is. You’ve really never heard the term?” She didn’t know whether to feel relieved or upset at the need to explain. “How much do you know about Mars?” Carmen asked.

“Um… not much,” he admitted. “First new world ever colonized by humans, right? And, uh, independent?”

“Independent to a fault,” she told him. “Mars was cursed by being close enough to Earth and close enough to being like Earth. When long-range spaceflight within the solar system became practical and cheap enough for colonization of other worlds to be feasible, the human presence on Mars grew like crazy as lots of governments and private companies and private groups planted their own little colonies in attempts to lay claim to parts of the planet and its resources, or just to claim their own independence from everybody else. Dozens of colonies, from large settlements to small groups. As the little colonies grew into cities, they stayed independent of each other, distrusting and disliking everyone else. The only time they have ever come together to cooperate in a common cause was for MAWFI.”

“Maw-fee?” Lochan Nakamura asked.

“Sorry. That’s how Reds say Martian War For Independence.”

“Oh. And you are… okay.” Lochan looked puzzled. “Who were they getting independence from?”

Carmen sighed. “The truth is that MAWFI was all about getting rid of the off-planet sources of law and order. Earth gov peacekeepers, law-enforcement and customs authorities, and tax collectors where those still functioned. But the average Red, to the extent that there is an average Red, got fooled into thinking that getting rid of those kinds of people would solve all of their problems. In reality, all it did was give the strong-arm rulers total freedom to do whatever they wanted. A lot of the heroes of MAWFI died soon afterward because the bosses didn’t want them causing problems.”

Lochan Nakamura’s gaze on her was troubled. “An idealist is a person who helps other people to be prosperous,” he quoted. “Some rich guy said that centuries ago.”

“I’m an idealist,” Carmen told him. “I think we can make things better.”

“Yeah, but I’ve talked to you enough to know your idealism is grounded in reality,” Lochan objected. “Instead of rejecting reality because it produces problems for your idealism, you believe that there are realistic ways to fix things for the better. So Mars is full of lots of different places that don’t get along. What does that have to do with your not wanting people to know you’re a, uh, Red?”

“I told you,” Carmen said. “There’s no central government, not even any strong regional governments. And all of the places that got set up by idealists who were going to establish little utopias sooner or later got taken over by bosses who were brutal realists. There is no overriding law on Mars. Most of the city-states are effectively controlled by kleptocracies, oligarchies, plutocracies, or red-dust dictators. Everyone else just tries to survive. And everywhere else in the solar system, anyone who sees a Red worries that they are a thief, a murderer, a con artist, or a beggar looking for handouts.”

This time Lochan Nakamura’s frown reflected distress. “It’s still like that? People call you Reds, but they don’t try to help?”

Carmen almost laughed in scorn. “No. And I don’t blame them. No one on Mars is powerful enough to change it, and no one outside Mars wants to get sucked into the tar pit that trying to pacify Mars would become.” Carmen blinked as memories flooded her. “Lochan, most areas are controlled by what amount to gangs. They may officially be called militias or neighborhood watches or something else, but they’re gangs. Mars took all of the idealism that Earth sent it and reforged it into cynicism and a survival-of-the-fittest mentality that forces everyone to do whatever they must.”

“You’re not like that,” Lochan objected.

“I was until I got off the planet,” Carmen said. “I had to survive, and get an education, and one way or another earn enough money to bribe the right people to get approved for immigration to Earth. I’m not proud of it, Lochan, but I left it behind. No, that’s not true. It still stains me in the eyes of anyone from Earth. If they learn I grew up on Mars, they are going to see me as a Red. A criminal. Not to be trusted or believed.”

“How did you get a job with Earth gov then?” Lochan demanded.

“By showing the right people that I might have grown up on Mars, but I was not a Red,” Carmen said. “And once I could, I started telling people I was from Albuquerque. For some reason, most people think anyone from Albuquerque must be respectable.”

Lochan Nakamura eyed her for several long moments before saying anything else, his thoughts hidden. “Why are you telling me all this?”

Carmen ran one hand through her hair, feeling sick inside. “Because I need you to trust me. And the only way I can be sure of that is if I confess to you why many other people wouldn’t trust me. If I had kept it secret, and you had later learned of it, you would have had every right to wonder what else I was hiding.”

He shook his head, one hand playing with his fork. “Carmen, what you were is a whole lot less important than what you are. Isn’t that the whole point of people coming out here to get a new start?”

“They are bringing their pasts with them,” Carmen said. “No one is forgetting who they were or what they learned or experienced.”

“All right,” Lochan Nakamura said, giving her a stubborn stare. “My past is I was a failure at everything I ever tried because I was so afraid of failing that I kept going it alone and trying to control everything, which just guaranteed that I’d fail again. You clawed your way out of a hellhole and have been trying to help people ever since then. Right? So which one of us is supposed to be an unworthy friend?”

“Lochan, I’ve seen enough of you to know that’s not who you are.”

“Not anymore. I was ready to change when I got to Vestri. The events and people there got me moving. And just as you said of me, I’ve seen enough of you to know what you aren’t,” Lochan Nakamura said. “All right, you told me. And I think more of you than I did before. Are you going to eat?”

She looked down at her untouched food, then back at him. “Seriously? You’re okay with it? Lochan, I wish you were my type. You make a great friend, though.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m noticing an unpleasant trend down and out,” Lochan said. “I keep attracting the company of younger women who are only interested in my mind.”

Carmen smiled at him. “I’m sure you’ll find a woman who wants the rest of you as well. Maybe there’s one on Kosatka.”

“If you’re right, we may be too busy on Kosatka for me to worry about romance,” Lochan Nakamura said.

Carmen felt an odd twinge of foreboding at his words.

Getting ready for another short-notice departure was not Rob Geary’s idea of a good time, especially since it really was an emergency requiring him to get Squall moving as soon as he could. The freighters from Scatha, having worked at off-loading around the clock, had emptied out and were plodding back to the jump point. Rob had worried that they would leave one or both of the heavy-lift shuttles, which would have been able to operate with impunity once Squall was gone, but both shuttles had nested with the freighters again and were also departing. That problem, at least, was resolved.

But before Squall could leave, there was more food to take on, a volunteer crew member who couldn’t be away from the planet for a month and had to be sent down to the surface, and a replacement to be found and brought up to orbit. Not to mention a long call to Ninja, who, of course, had already found out and instead of giving him a hard time offered her best encouragement.

And there was a Marine to talk to during some of his very limited free time.

“Mele Darcy?” Rob asked. He had chosen his stateroom for this conversation, wanting the privacy.

She nodded back to him. Mele Darcy looked professional but guarded. She was standing in a field just outside the current limits of the city, wind ruffling her short hair, sizing him up at the same time he was evaluating her. “Yes, sir. Thanks for calling before you left. Council Member Camagan recommended that we talk.”

“What exactly are you? Did the council approve your appointment?”

Mele Darcy gave him a smile twisted by sardonic humor. “Not exactly. It’s temporary and provisional. I have now seen and heard those words enough to satisfy me for life.”

Rob nodded. “I understand. My assignment is also temporary and provisional. What did they put you in charge of?”

She grinned, a winning expression. “I am commander and sole member of Glenlyon’s Marines and Ground Forces.”

“What rank did they give you?”

“No rank. They rated me sergeant.”

Rob shook his head. “At least they let me call myself a lieutenant.”

“That’s all right, sir,” Mele Darcy assured him. “I won’t hold it against you.”

He couldn’t help laughing. “You’re a sergeant, sure enough.” Rob rubbed his chin with one hand as he studied her. “I did a research paper once on Marine sergeants back on Old Earth. More than one Marine sergeant in the past ended up as a king or ruler of a small country.”

She appeared to be both amused and puzzled by the statement. “That doesn’t surprise me, but what does that have to do with me, sir?”

“You came in a fairly short time ago. No one has had time to develop any loyalty to Glenlyon,” Rob said. “You less than the rest of us. All we really have loyalty to is our ideals and our friends. What’s your game, Sergeant? What’s your loyalty to?”

Mele Darcy nodded to him, her expression gone serious. “Like you said, Lieutenant. Loyalty to my friends and some ideals. I left Franklin looking for something else. I didn’t know what. I rode a ship to the end of the line, which turned out to be Glenlyon. It’s true I don’t have much history with you guys, but from all I can see, you’re decent people trying to do right by other people. And there’s no doubt that Scatha is trying to strong-arm you. So I figure I ought to help.”

She sounded open and forthcoming, but then someone with big plans would know how to do that. “No long-term goals?”

Mele returned his gaze. “Are you worried about me?”

“Yes.”

“I tend to produce that reaction in officers,” she said, flashing another smile. “Lieutenant, if I was going to take over some place, I’d choose one that already had the system in place to take over. Like Scatha, maybe. I’ve got no experience with running planets or governments, and no interest in trying to learn. I’m a grunt. I hope I can put together a small force able to take down that base Scatha just set up. And I hope not to get killed in the process. Those are pretty much my long-term goals at the moment.”

Rob nodded back to her, impressed despite his worries. “Did you hear anything on the way here about other star systems that were recruiting Old Colony vets?”

“Yes, sir.” Mele Darcy grimaced and waved outward. “I came here via Taniwha, where there were recruiters in the bars looking for vets willing to sign on with places like Scatha and Apulu. Nice promises from Scatha, but I’ve learned the hard way not to believe every word a recruiter tells me. I already knew enough about Apulu not to want to go there voluntarily.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, sir. A little matter of nearly being hijacked to Apulu as part of a forced-labor scheme,” Mele Darcy explained in the casual tones of someone describing a minor event. “After escaping being a victim, I wasn’t going to play any role in that as an enforcer. So I asked around about Scatha. I didn’t like the word on the street, and I didn’t particularly like the sort of people they had recruiting for them. I’m not a mercenary who’ll fight for whoever pays me, and once I looked over the fine print, I didn’t like the sort of contracts they were offering. So I hopped a ride farther down and out, hoping to find a better option.”

Geary nodded to her. “Do you want to be a hero?” he prodded. “Save Glenlyon?”

“Oh, hell, no,” Mele Darcy replied with a laugh. “I just want to do what I’m good at to help people who need it. From what I hear, you’re the hero type. Captured that ship and all.”

“No,” Rob said, embarrassed and uncomfortable at the idea. “I’m not a hero, either. You know I’m going to take the Squall to Kosatka to ask for their help against Scatha. Before we leave, I’ll plant some satellites in orbit where they can watch Scatha’s new base, but there’s not a lot else I can do for you until I get back. My greatest worry is that Scatha will send reinforcements before I return. Scatha has two destroyers.”

Mele Darcy was clearly unhappy to hear that, looking upward. “Bombardment from orbit is not something I want to experience as a target. You hurry back, okay?”

“I’ll do that,” Rob told her. “I don’t know what your plans are, and I don’t know what resources the government will offer you. But I was able to capture this ship thanks to Lyn Meltzer. There are other hackers in the colony, but none of them are nearly as good as she is. If a good hacker can support you in any way, I highly recommend you ask her for help and insist that the council authorize a contract with her.” He wondered if it was unethical to recommend a friend for a government job. But he had no doubt that Ninja would be the best help for Mele Darcy, and also that if Darcy did try anything against the government, that Ninja wouldn’t play along.

“Lyn Meltzer,” Mele Darcy repeated back. “Does she understand the sort of support I’ll need?”

“She’s former fleet from Alfar, just like me.”

“Another lieutenant?”

“No,” Rob said. “Enlisted.”

“Thank you, sir,” Mele Darcy said. “I do appreciate the advice. I know two people who were headed for Kosatka, so maybe I can return the favor. If they’ve established themselves there, they might be able to help you. Lochan Nakamura and Carmen Ochoa.”

“You think they might already have some sway at Kosatka?”

“Yes, sir, I do. Lochan is a more talented politician than he knows, and Carmen Ochoa is straight from Old Earth. She worked in some sort of conflict resolution office.”

“Conflict resolution is what we need,” Rob said. “I appreciate the tip even though new people might not have much influence yet.”

“I’m new here, and look where I am,” Mele said. “Sir, we’re on the same side. I hope we’ve established that. I’m going to do everything I can to handle this problem with Scatha and keep faith with people like you. Good luck on your mission.”

“Thanks,” Rob replied. He paused, wanting to say more to the only other person who might really understand. “Does it feel odd to you? Having this kind of responsibility? Because it does to me.”

“Yeah,” she said. “We’ve got us an opportunity to excel. How many people you got on that ship?”

“Fourteen. If I get another volunteer to make good on her promise to show up if needed. Far from a full crew.”

“That beats me. So far I’m a one-person Marine Corps and Ground Forces.” She grinned again, an expression Rob found simultaneously reassuring, slightly disturbing, and a bit beguiling. “I’ll take care of the place while you’re gone.”

After the call had ended, Rob spent a few moments thinking. Mele Darcy, he decided, was either just what Glenlyon desperately needed as it floundered about in search of ways to deal with a foe who had clearly already decided on its own course of action, or she was the sort of hero on a white horse who could do as much damage to her own side as to that of the enemy.

Only time would tell. And he had to use some of that precious time right now to hopefully gain Kosatka’s support for Glenlyon.

Rob called up the command displays to check on the status of resupply and whether or not Yulia Jones had made it up to the ship yet, muttering curses as the data froze and the “restart now?” prompt appeared. He was growing to hate that prompt, but Ninja had told him that HEJU code was prone to that sort of thing, so he’d have to live with it.

He really hoped that “restart now?” prompt wouldn’t appear during battle if he ended up having to fight one of those destroyers from Scatha.

Six hours later, Rob Geary dragged himself back to the bridge, thinking that at least once they left orbit he might have a chance to rest again. “All departments report readiness for departure,” he ordered as he took the command seat, gazing on the projected path on his display. It formed a long curve through Glenlyon’s star system, ending at the jump point leading back to the unoccupied star system of Jatayu, then Kosatka.

As Mononoke left jump space, the endless, bland gray disappeared, replaced by a universe full of stars, where even the emptiness between worlds felt welcoming.

Lochan wasn’t sure if he felt so good because the Mononoke had finally reached Kosatka or because it had finally left jump space. “I’m not sure if saving years of travel is worth having to experience jump space,” he commented to Carmen Ochoa.

She gave him an amused glance. “Try centuries of travel. If even that would get you this far down and out at achievable sublight speeds.”

“I’m still not sure,” Lochan said, rubbing the skin on his arms. That skin had felt increasingly wrong the longer he had been in jump space each time, as if it no longer fit his body. The sensation had been disquieting enough that he had no desire to experience it again soon.

He looked around the crowded lounge they were in. “Everybody could have watched us leave jump from the displays in their own staterooms, but we all come to places like this to watch it together. I guess humans are still social animals.”

“Most of them, anyway,” Carmen agreed. Lochan thought she seemed preoccupied, as if worried. “But it’s also midafternoon ship time,” Carmen added. “I’ll bet if we’d left jump a few hours after midnight, the crowds would have been a lot smaller.”

“What’s the matter?” Lochan asked her.

She made a face. “I picked Kosatka as a place to head for because of rumors that old friends of mine on Mars had heard. Jobs to be had.”

“What’s wrong with that? It’s a fairly new colony. They’ll have lots of jobs available as they build.”

“What’s wrong with it is the skill sets that were supposedly being sought,” Carmen said. “The sort of skills that don’t build things but destroy them. And it wasn’t Kosatka’s colony openly recruiting for those jobs, it was someone working under the table. Whoever was seeking gangers for jobs on Kosatka was planning to cause more trouble. Earth had already heard of a few incidents when I left, but it wasn’t the sort of thing Earth wanted to worry about, not when it was so many light years away. I’ve been worried about what might be happening out here, so I won’t relax until I see the worst hasn’t happened. In a few moments, the ship will have picked up any news being transmitted through Kosatka Star System, and we’ll get to see it even though it’ll be hours time-delayed.”

“This is Kosatka, not Vestri,” Lochan protested. “I thought our biggest challenge was going to be convincing people of the need to act before bad things happen.”

“I hope that’s the case. I hope we’re going to be trying to get people to see the potential problems rather than dealing with existing problems.”

Lochan gazed at the crowd around them. “Existing problems might make things simpler. In my experience, people have to be able to see the problems they’re being warned of. “

“My experience was on Mars,” Carmen Ochoa said, her eyes still on the displays where the local news would appear once the Mononoke had processed the signals. “Where the problems were so big that everyone stopped believing that things could get better, so they refused to work together in ways that could have made things better.”

“Which guaranteed that things wouldn’t get better.” Lochan shook his head. “I guess we have to hope for problems just bad enough to push people to want to do something and get them working together because they don’t think they have a choice.”

“Do you mean fear?” Carmen Ochoa asked, her voice growing harder. “Fear is a great motivator. I know all about that. That’s why I won’t play that game. Fear can’t be leashed, Lochan. If you start using it, fear will run wild and cause things to happen that no one should want.”

“I’m not hoping for something like that,” Lochan protested, feeling defensive even though he understood Carmen’s position. “I wasn’t talking about something we’d do to fan the flames or scare people. But if you’re right, somebody else is planning to do something. Somebody else is going to try to use fear because they’ll want to employ it as a weapon. Am I right?”

She nodded, her eyes dark.

“Everybody out here wants to be free to live their own lives and be independent and make all their own decisions,” Lochan continued. “Whatever we do has to take that into account, or we’ll be treated like that one guy did, accusing us of wanting to take away some of their freedom. That’s when people stop listening, when they think you’re going to take stuff that’s important to them.”

“I hate to think something terrible will have to happen first,” Carmen said. “I wonder why it’s taking so long for the local news to be displayed?”

As if in answer to her words, the view of the outside vanished from all of the displays visible to Lochan. Mononoke’s captain looked out at the passengers, her expression somber. “We will begin showing the local news in a minute. Before you see and hear it, I wanted to assure all passengers that there is no threat to this ship or anyone aboard her. There is no present danger. Everyone is to remain calm. At the moment, the ship’s officers know nothing more than the same information you will see. We have sent a message to the authorities in Kosatka asking for further details and any guidance they have, but it will be several hours before we can hear back from them. In the meantime, remain calm. I repeat, there is no threat to this ship.”

The captain’s image vanished, leaving blank displays and a rising roar of excited conversation.

“What the hell was that about?” Lochan asked Carmen, knowing she had no more idea of the answer than he did.

“Something terrible,” Carmen said, her words sounding as if they had been forced through her throat.

The displays flickered once, then steadied into the images of two men and a woman who all had the look of people confronting the unthinkable. One of the men was in midsentence as the sound kicked in, the words carrying easily. Everyone on the Mononoke seemed to have fallen silent, listening in disbelief.

“—exact number of dead remains uncertain, but the ship from Lares says most of the city the colony had been constructing was destroyed along with almost all of their manufacturing and construction equipment. The orbital bombardment was begun without any warning or demands having been issued, so the reasons for the deadly surprise attack remain unknown.”

“The House of the People’s Representatives is meeting in emergency session,” the woman picked up the report, her voice grave. “The Office of the First Minister of Kosatka has just issued an official statement.”

The reader’s image was replaced by that of another woman speaking in the slow and clear style of someone conveying bad news. “Our first priority is the safety of the people of Kosatka. Measures to be taken to ensure the defense of our people against a similar attack are already being debated and decided upon. Everyone should remain calm. We will work together to protect this star system and offer what aid we can to the survivors at Lares. Contrary to irresponsible rumors being broadcast on social media, there is absolutely no reason to believe that what happened at Lares was the initial assault by an undiscovered alien species. The images sent to us on the ship from Lares clearly show that a spacecraft of human origin was responsible for the bombardment.”

The speaker’s image blinked out, replaced by that of the news reader again. “As just confirmed by the official statement, images of the warship that attacked Lares have been sent to the government. Those images will be closely analyzed in an attempt to identify those behind the attack. Our sources caution that because the warships in frontier regions of space are all obsolete craft discarded by Old Earth and the Old Colonies, it may not be possible to discover exactly where the attacker came from without extensive research into possible origins.”

“To recap for those who have just joined us, a warship jumped into Lares Star System a month ago and proceeded in-system without identifying itself. Once in orbit, it began launching bombardment projectiles that caused extensive damage. The governing body of Lares had fortunately evacuated many people from the city as a precaution, but loss of life is still expected to ultimately be very large. The survivors at Lares have requested any assistance that we can provide.”

Lochan shook his head, feeling sick inside. Orbital bombardment was something you read about in history books, something that had happened to places in Earth’s solar system. It wasn’t supposed to happen now. It wasn’t supposed to happen in places where new ideas and new cities were being established. “There’s the fear,” he whispered to Carmen.

“Orbital bombardment,” she whispered back to him, her voice shaking. “How can we stop enemies willing to do that?”

“We’ll have to figure out a way,” Lochan said.