Author's note: this story has been re-edited to bring it up to my current standards as part of an effort to make Ebooks. It features improved editing, grammar, punctuation, and also includes rewrites and expanded scenes where necessary. Please see my bio for more information.
CHAPTER 1: SIEGE OF JARILO
The admirals sat around a circular table in the conference room, poring over the data readouts that were embedded in the polished mahogany, scrolling past field reports and fleet logistics with their white gloves. It was rare to see so many admirals assembled in one place, brought in from every corner of Coalition space, some better rested than others as they waited for the briefing to begin. The great wheel that gave Fort Hamilton its nickname and provided it with artificial gravity rotated past outside the windows against the velvet-black backdrop of space. The Pinwheel was the largest naval base in human territory and security had been bumped up at the request of the security chief, as having so many high ranking officers in one place would present a juicy target. The engine trails of warships could be seen beyond the station as the metal behemoths drifted along their patrol routes.
One of the men stood, straightening his white dress uniform, his breast decorated with a dozen medals and insignias. He cleared his throat and then tapped in a command on his touch screen, a hologram of a planet materializing in the center of the table. It was beautiful and verdant, with sparkling blue oceans and continents covered in green vegetation, wisps of white cloud floating across the landscape in familiar weather patterns. Had it not been for the odd shapes of the landmasses, one might have mistaken it for Earth at a glance.
"Two days ago, a Russian Federation survey ship that was scouting contested space along the Coalition border discovered a previously unknown Earth-like planet. They named it Jarilo."
He tapped at his monitor, the hologram crackling as it shifted, lines of text and graphs appearing to display more information as the admirals leaned closer to examine the display.
"Zero point nine eight Gs, an atmosphere composed of sixty-seven percent nitrogen and thirty-two percent oxygen, with the rest being argon and other traces gases. It has an active and very powerful magnetosphere that protects it from solar radiation, likely due to its iron core, and liquid water covers approximately sixty-two percent of its surface. The planet has a native biosphere, with carbon-based plant and animal life flourishing across its continents and oceans. It is a garden world, the most like Earth that we have ever come across."
"How did we miss this in our surveys?" one of the other admirals asked, visibly perturbed by the revelation. "I thought that we had mapped every habitable planet in Coalition space? We've been colonizing less and less desirable planets for years now because the astronomers and surveyors told us that we had run out of suitable targets. Hell, we've fought tooth and nail over planets like Kruger III and Hades, planets with only the barest capacity to support human life."
"The planet was hidden by the star's accretion disk. The system is a young one, but the presence of several large gas giants has kept it remarkably safe from debris. It was just bad luck, it was obscured relative to us on the galactic plane by this cloud of dust and asteroids," he said as he pointed towards a map of the system and its planets. "It took a ship entering the system to spot it."
"And why have you convened this meeting?" another of the admirals asked. This one sported a long, grey beard that obscured some of his regalia. "You cannot have brought us all together in one place to discuss what could have been announced through the usual channels."
"You are correct," the admiral giving the presentation continued. "Along with the discovery of Jarilo came the detection of a Betelgeusian fleet crossing into contested space and making a beeline for the system. The Russian survey ship fled as soon as they detected the incoming vessels, but our best intelligence suggests that Jarilo may already be under occupation."
"This planet may be more suited to human life than even our own homeworld," another of the admirals added, "I need not impress upon you gentlemen the importance of securing it. This could become a second Earth, a spearhead in the fight against the Betelgeusians. The colonists there could thrive, rather than barely clinging to life, as has been the case in so many of our recent ventures."
"We cannot allow this planet to remain in Bug hands," the man sitting beside him confirmed, slamming his gloved fist on the table and causing the hologram to flicker for a moment. "We must stake our claim and deny the insects a foothold there by any means necessary."
There was a chorus of affirmations around the table.
"We must assemble a strike force, and they must reach Jarilo as soon as possible. Every day that we spend preparing gives the Bugs more time to entrench and fortify their position. We have to hit them hard and fast, before they have an opportunity to make this planet a fortress."
"Can we spare the ships?" the admiral to his left asked, scratching his stubbly chin as he considered. "There are a dozen systems along the border where the Betelgeusians could make a push if we diverted ships from the front line. Our fleets are stretched thin as it is."
"The
Thermopylae
is currently in dry dock on this very station," the man giving the presentation volunteered. "She's a carrier, just returned from quelling an insurrection on Hades. She's undergoing some minor repairs, and then she's slated to be redeployed to the front."
"Then we'll give her new orders," the bearded admiral announced as he stood and leaned across the wooden table to glare at his colleagues. "The
Thermopylae
is to resupply and lead an invasion force to Jarilo. Their mission is to capture the planet with extreme prejudice. Who is the captain?"
"That would be...one Captain Stavros."
"Stavros? I know the man, he's reliable. Make him the fleet commander on this one, and throw together whatever ships you can pull away from their duties. I know that I saw a battleship and some cruisers on the flight in. If it's docked at this station and it's spaceworthy, then I want it en route to Jarilo as soon as humanly possible."
***
Walker swam, his muscles burning as he reached the end of the lane. He rested for a moment, catching his breath as the ropes to either side of him bobbed on their plastic floats in the blue water. He secured his white swimming cap, adjusted his goggles, then broke into a backstroke as he started another lap. He always liked to visit the pool whenever he had shore leave. There was something relaxing about letting himself float in the water, almost as if he was in zero gravity. It was great exercise too, cathartic, the water carrying away any sweat that he generated as he powered through it.
They didn't use chlorine on the Pinwheel, the Krell didn't like it, and so the Olympic-sized pool had that fresh feel and taste that reminded him so much of swimming in the lakes and rivers of his youth. There were a few of the giant lizards floating in the adjacent lanes, like oversized, bipedal crocodiles. They were covered in spinach-colored scales that could stop a bullet, around sixteen feet from nose to tail, inhumanly friendly and easygoing despite their fearsome appearance. They lazed, pushing themselves along slowly with their huge, oar-like tails. They weren't exercising, they just liked the water. One could argue that they were more at home inside the pool than out.
The rest of his squadmates had gone straight to the bar, but Walker liked to take care of himself. A weapon that was improperly maintained would fail you, and the human body was no different. As a scout sniper, he was often put into unpredictable and physically demanding situations.
He rested for a few more moments, his arms crossed on the side of the pool, watching the Krell as they floated sluggishly. They tended not to stay in their lanes, as large as they were. He'd have to keep an eye out for errant aliens on his way back up.
He plunged back into the water, a breaststroke this time, trying to exercise as much of his body as he could. Swimming was preferable to running in that way, it involved so many more muscle groups, every kick and pull was like a miniature resistance workout in itself.
As he reached the deep end of the pool, he felt a surge in the water beneath his feet, as if some large mass was about to breach directly under him. Something grabbed his leg and pulled him beneath the surface, giving him barely enough time to take a gulp of air before he was submerged. Through his goggles, he saw a Borealan grinning up at him from below.
She was eight feet tall, female judging by two breasts the size of his head that were barely contained by a two-piece swimsuit, the wet material black against her pale skin. She had strawberry-blonde hair that was cut short in a bob, her two round ears protruding from it. Her eyes were the color of amber, with feline pupils that glinted with amusement as she grinned at him silently through the water. Her body was clean of fur save for her forearms and her legs below the knee, where her thin coat began, the same color as her hair and decorated with faded markings that reminded Walker of a leopard. Her fingers were clawed like those of a cat and her digitigrade legs ended in paw-like feet that were similarly armed. Her tail floated behind her like a furry snake, long and flexible. Her developed muscles bulged from beneath her skin, a product of the harsh gravity of her homeworld, giving her the appearance of an athlete or a fitness nut. They were colloquially known as
Mad Cats
to military personnel, alien auxiliaries that were renowned for their combat prowess, not to mention their antagonistic nature.
She released his ankle from her fuzzy grip, bubbles escaping from her mouth as she laughed, exposing her sharp teeth. Walker swam to the surface and took a deep breath, his assailant rising to float beside him.
"Your face, Walker," she snickered. She slapped the surface of the pool with her dinner plate-sized hand and showered him with water. "For a scout, you're damned easy to sneak up on."
Her people were mischievous at best and belligerent at worst. Their society was based around pack hierarchies, with members locked in a constant battle for dominance and status that was most often decided through violence. They were hard to get along with, but once you understood their way of thinking, they made firm friends.
"They should keep you guys in cages when you're on leave," he complained, her toothy grin growing wider. "Besides Kaz, you're my spotter, keeping a lookout is supposed to be
your
job."
"Come on Walker, let's go to the recreation center, I'll let you buy me a drink."
She rubbed her flat, pink nose with the back of her furry forearm, floating there as she waited for a response. She was remarkably buoyant despite her sheer mass.
"You don't need me to buy you drinks, you can scarcely handle one beer. Getting you wasted costs about five credits."
"Hey, how my species metabolize alcohol is my own business. Now are you coming or not?"
"Fine, fine, just let me go dry off."
Kaz had been assigned to him as his spotter. Borealans had better visual acuity than humans, and their sense of smell rivaled that of a bloodhound. They were certainly stealthy when they wanted to be, but crack shots they generally were not, and that was where Walker came in. With a human and a Borealan alone in the field for long periods of time, things were bound to happen. They were sexual creatures, and it was as much a part of their social interaction as polite conversation. Walker and Kaz had found a kind of equilibrium, it let off steam and reduced stress, so there was nothing to complain about. It took a firm hand to keep a Borealan in check, but Walker was a UNN Marine, being a hardass was in his job description.
