Citation Series 1: Naero's War: The Annexation War (32 page)

Tawny crossed her arms in front of herself. “
Until then, you need to grow up and look out for yourself a little more.”

“Stick with us,” Tawny said. “We can help you work a few things out, and see what your options are. We’ve seen newbs like you come along and get taken advantage of
, time and time again.”

“
And it is too painful to watch.”

“
There are some pretty tough lessons to learn out there in the adult world–especially during wartime. A little more backbone would do you some good, kiddo.”

Pharrah-
Naero smiled. “Thanks, guys. I hear what you’re saying. I’ll try to do better. I really appreciate you two looking out for me and trying to help me out.”

“
Hey, that’s what your mates are for.”

“Yeah, we watch each others’ backs and take care of one another
.”

“And we
also buy each other drinks and chow,” Tawny told her. “Like you’re going to buy us a round, right now, to celebrate growing a pair.”

“But…I don’t drink.”

Her new friends grinned at her and spoke in unison.

“Start
.”

40

Like Naero,
Tarim lost half of his blue forces in their latest sim.

But he succeeded in destroying her last big, and gained the upper hand
.

“I think…” he said cautiously. “I think I have you
.”

Naero grinned. “Not yet you don’t. Evasive retreat in Foxtrot-Zulu-4
.”

“Cut off remaining blue elements in Echo-Victor-3
envelopment patterns.”

She lost three cruisers, seven destroyers, and two carriers
.

“Surrender,” Tarim said
.

Naero grinned. “Never. My crews fight to the last
.”

They battled back and forth
.

In the end, Tarim had nine red ships left. Two carriers, one battleship, three cruisers, two frigates, and two gunships
.

“Congratulations, Tarim. You’ve
won again. I think you’re really getting the hang of this.”

Tarim laughed
.

“I know y
ou’re only letting me win, N–still trying to build up my confidence. I’m almost there–where I want to be. You don’t have to keep taking it easy on me, anymore. In fact, I wish you wouldn’t. Punish me when I make stupid mistakes. Make our matches more challenging. It doesn’t matter if I win or lose–as long as I keep learning.”

Naero nodded. “Very well. I can do that
.”

“I know you can. You’re the best,
N. One of the best at least. Everyone says so.”

“Shall we have another go, then
, Tarim? Or are you tired, yet?”

“One more
. Really come at me this time.”

She smiled slyly.
“If you insist–be careful what you ask for, my friend.”

Naero overwhelmed him in
precisely thirty-seven seconds.

*

The fleets from the other Gigacorps
still massed on the other Corps borders near the Annexation War, keeping close watch, poised to protect the rights to their own territory, and to make sure that the regular, Spacer Naval forces still kept their distance, and did not interfere directly in the war’s final outcome.

As they themselves had been clearly exposed to be doing
, illegally, all along.

Yet the systems surrounding the final Capital Class Homeworld of Najindo-9 were now
much closer together, and did not need as many fleets to defend them.

Triax had
purchased plenty of time to layer its final defenses in dense spheres and waves of robot death ships, remotely piloted killer drones, cloaked and uncloaked smartmines–as well as its remaining, formidable, mass of conventional fleets.

All of the zealots who were still d
efiant and insane to the last.

Everyone understood that
these Triaxian fanatics were never going to surrender.

The Alliance made its plans for the next phase of the campaign. What everyone hoped would be the final phase
.

Every
Alliance warship, every vessel and fighter was checked over, refitted, and upgraded with the latest tek.

Crew and replacements went through further training and preparation
.

Leaves were planned in rotations
, for as long as they could be sustained. Every member of the Alliance strove to ready themselves for the final push.

The initial engagements had already started
.

Then out of the black, Chaela came to Naero in private
.

“
Hey, Chae. Happy to see you,
abani
.”

“
N, I want you to marry me and Remy. Today, if possible.”

Naero raised her eyebrows
.

“I’d be honored
, Chae. May I ask–what’s the sudden rush?

Chaela shrugged, her long
blond braid swung slightly as she did so down her broad, athletic back. Her large blue eyes softened.

“So many have died,
N. Any of us could buy it, each day. Any day. Saemar and I are out in the mix with our fighter wings, just like everyone else. We know what can happen. What does happen. I just…I want to mean something to someone before it does. If and when it does.”

Naero took Chae’s hands in hers. “Whatever happens to all of us, we will always mean something to each other. We bleed and die and fight together for something better. That makes all of us
more than mates. It makes us family; but you and I reached that point long ago, my sister.”

Chae smiled and hugged her
.

“I already know all that,
N. It’s Remy. I’m just crazy about my guy, that’s all. And he feels the same double for me, the poor sap. We just, you know, want everything to be straight between us…just in case. You know.”

Naero nodded and smiled sadly. “Yeah. Sure thing, Chae. You two just let me know when and where. It doesn’t have to take long at all
.”

Spacer weddings could be as elaborate as the couple could wish, but the standard ceremony was usually relatively simple and short, normally performed by a starship captain or sometimes a Clan elder
.

Wartime forced Naero to perform the rite on many occasions in her role as captain.
Often they were done in haste.

Many on the eve before a big important battle
.

She never refused a request. Sometimes it was the last joy
two people had in this life, before one or both of them went on to the next journey. And Naero would not deny anyone that.

Anyone who faced death each day, understood the power and value of love
.

Everyone deserved whatever time they had, to be the people they wanted to be, with the people they wanted to be with
.

The most people she ever married at one time were forty-three couples, on a flight deck on the fleet carrier,
The
Bulldog
. Most of the couples were male-female, a few male-male, or female-female. That did not matter. People loved who they loved.

There might not be time later, when all
faced death on a second-by-second basis throughout the course of the war.

Time and love became
incredibly precious.

The call came up, and Naero’s Strike Fleet raced forward to enter the mix
.

Their new mission gave them little time
.

Naero performed the ceremony over the comlink, while Ch
ae prepped her Ghost Dragon F59F to lead her fighter wing out into the black.

Remy stood
ready at his gunnery turret, a secondary battery on board
The
Hippolyta
. That was his battle station, when he wasn’t crunching numbers for fleet accounting and payroll.

“Chaela Maeris of Clan Maeris, and Remy La Fontaine Valmont, of Clan Valmont. As your captain in charge of this ceremony, it is my honor and
privilege to preside over your union.”

Naero had to check her updating scans for a moment, and pweak the fleet’s attack vectors and formations
.

“Marriage is a sacred commitment
of honor and respect that should not be entered into or taken lightly. Marriage takes two people devoted to one another, and joins and binds them into a single partnership of love and support, so that they may face all of the challenges of life together, and build a future of respect and mutual agreement and affection.

“Together, they are stronger that they were on their own. They compliment each other, building upon their strengths, and shoring up one another’s weaknesses. They lay the foundation for a secure life and family, and the continuing future of our people.
This is a foundation built on love, trust, respect, and honor. The two of you honor us all today, and we in turn honor both of you.”

Chae broke in. “Sorry,
N. Gonna have to speed it up. A few minutes more and I gotta launch.”

“Very well, then. Let me be brief. Chaela Maeris and Remy La Fontaine Valmon
t. Do the both of you agree to be married to one another?

If this is so, please say, ‘I do.’”

“I do.”

“I do
.”

Do you agree to
enter into this partnership, bound by love, honor, respect, and trust? To forsake all others and to assist, support, and serve each other, for as long as you both shall live? If this is so, then together, please say, ‘We do.’”

“We do,” Chae and Remy said in unison over their links
.

“Then by the authority
of the Free Spacer Clans given to me by my rank as captain, I now pronounce the two of you married—husband and wife, wife and husband. Let your life together be long, and filled with joy. Remy, you’ll have to kiss her when she gets back. Fortune favor you both!”

“Who’s kissing who?” Chae shouted with a laugh
, right as she launched.

“Wahoo!
”

The links broke off. Naero turned in her command chair, studying her scans and setting her forces for the battle
s ahead.

36

Rats always fled from a
n impending disaster. Such was widely known.

The same
phenomena seemed to be occurring, directly connected with the impending fall of Triax Gigacorp.

Naero and the rest of the Alliance fleets
were quickly becoming caught up and distracted with heavy interdiction duties.

At times the prosecution of the the actual hot war
even ground to a standstill.

Basically, they spent more and more time pursuing and
intercepting a tide of countless private Triaxian vessels, laden with stolen wealth from a decadent, fallen empire. Strings of transports loaded with loot, and even slaves. Vessels of every shape and size, fleeing in all directions, simply adding to the chaos and uncertainty.

Triax even took advantage of the situation to scatter their agents and terrorists in
to rear areas, using the fleeing hordes as camouflage to hide their numbers. To use and old metaphor, they hid and lost themselves by becoming fish, among numberless shoals of other, panic-stricken, fleeing fish.

The Alliance fleets
soon found themselves overwhelmed.

Joshua Tech, the Matayans, the Miners, and the newly liberated worlds offered a partial solution when consulted
.

Secondary fleets of other private ships, non-warships, and vessels basically unsuited for combat on the front lines, assumed responsibility for inspection and interdiction duties. They were guarded by older military vessels that served
best by patrolling the rear areas.

This shift of forces
freed up elite and frontline elements from getting bogged down checking cargos, manifests, and IDs.

Smugglers, military, and paramilitary
personnel attempting to flee off the grid, without surrendering, were still captured, and held for inspection and trial, as needed.

By now, the
new Alliance worlds had their own military courts and tribunals up and running. These were fully capable of prosecuting individuals, or entire system bureaucracies. Contraband was captured and converted into anything that might help the war effort, and or the local systems improve their conditions.

Many other factors had to be considered on liberated worlds. Conditions on many Triax worlds were found to be
quite deplorable, as some might readily expect. The miners were never surprised by such facts.

Therefore, teams of fixers
were controlled by Spacer tek handlers to improve water, food systems, and living conditions everywhere they went–under the protection of the Alliance Defense Forces. They leap-frogged from world to world, and system to system, as possible and as needed.

A
s more and more worlds became liberated each day, Triaxian fanatics and terrorists continued their attempts to sow chaos and destruction among them. But they did so against the sweeping tide of change and freedom. And free peoples craved and demanded order, fairness, justice, stability, and peace.

Local forces on many liberated worlds found their hands full seeking out and neutralizing
the lethal mix of atomic, chemical, biological, and conventional threats and agents used by the Triaxian terrorists. Intel stepped in the assist.

Such terrorists found themselves falling increasingly out of favor, and the locals on each liberated world hunted them down and
slew them without mercy.

Yet o
nly the total defeat of Triax would bring a final end to the unpredictable, sporadic murder of billions of civilians. Until that time, efforts could only continue to prevent and limit such terrible occurrences. Not stop them completely. The war must conclude.

*

Spacer Topeka-Naero Nelson transferred in
on board the destroyer
The
Star
Witch
to work in logistics, as a supply loader on transports. She had a long, bright green pony tail and hazel eyes.

She was brash and loud. She exchanged rude jokes and gestures with her mates, and routinely invited anyone who had any kind of a problem with her to chomp on her
lily-white butt and chew with gusto. She gambled and won and lost, she brawled when brawling was required.

The work was hard for glifter teams, and the hours long, especially on the rim of battle with ships always in need of re-supply
.

She slept
when and where she could.

And though some thought her young and innocent
at first, anyone who mistakenly tried to snuggle up to her or cop a feel without her permission–got a swift boot in the crotch and a stout whack upside the head.

Topeka
-Naero didn’t take any crap–not from nobody.

She earned the respect of many in
just a few short days.

But l
oaders were always full of poop, bragging about who they could trounce, and who they could bounce–as they put it.

They
remained the top bullshit artists of all the Spacer ranks and jobbers.

And Topeka-Naero slung it
thick and fast with the best of them.

Not an hour went by that someone didn’t start talking trash about either fighting, sex, or some combination of the two
.

“She’s not so tough. I could beat that slank down with one hand secured behind me, and my ankles strapped together
.”

“Why, an hour with me, and I’d drain all the ju
ice right out of that lucky bloke. He’d black out with a smile, dry up, and blow away like dust and flakes on the wind–after I was done with him, he would.”

Naero chimed in. “I’d like to spar with this uppity fleet captain of ours, I would. She acts all tough and all that, but one punch from me and I’d lay her out, but good
.”

Every one
suddenly paused and just stared at her.

Then they
fell over themselves laughing.

Topeka-Naero blushed and snapped at them
.

“Go on, now. You scum can’t laugh me down. I stand by my words. I can take her!
”

Even more laughter
.

“You stupid little twit,” another loader said. “What kind of drug-induced smoke are you puffing out of your orifices? You, a gangly chit like yourself, take the mighty
fleet captain herself down?”

Her new mates all piled in
.

“
Haisha!
Not in a gazillion years,” one loader said.

“Are y
ou illegitimate? Can’t ya read, ya moron?” another asked.

“
Belay that. Why gal, don’t you know who her parents were?”

“Did someone slip wild-cherry flavored blast inta yer mother’s tit-milk somehow?
Why…your brain is cooked. You must be daft, gal.”

“I still say I can take her. Make the challenge. Get me a match with her. She comes around the ships to practice. Send word that I want to scrap
.”

“Calm yourself. Save your sand for the Tri-asses and pound it up them
.”

“Tri-asses?
,” Topeka-Naero said, scratching her head. “Why in the heck do you call ‘em that?”

“It’s just a play on Triax, gal
.”

“Because, as everyone knows, anyone who’s a three-holer is filled to the very brim with thrice as much c
rap! That’s our enemies for you; damn and blast them all!”

Everyone had a good laugh at that, even Topeka-Naero
.

One of the older loaders pointed his finger at her and cocked his bleary eye. “So, lass. You be a
sweet little gal, and don’t be a challenging the good fleet captain none, or bothering her or any of the officers. They’ve got better things to do than finding time to stove your fool head in.”

“Yeah, ya silly git
.”

Topeka-
Naero pouted and muttered and fumed to herself for hours after they put her in her place.