WIP excerpt: Patriots in Retreat

Chapter 1: A New Weapon

Ayesha bint Hasan Al-Hasani walked smartly down the main corridor of the GIS Starfall, the heels of her boots rapping against the floor in a highly satisfying manner. Her hair was as black as the depths of space, and she wore it down so that it came almost to her waist. She turned the heads of many of the men she passed, and that too gave her great satisfaction.

She reached the briefing room and palmed open the door. The lights were dimmed, the room nearly empty except for three men who stood around the holographic projector in the center. The one on the left was the admiral, a gaunt middle-aged man by the name of Orion. She had met him the previous dayshift, upon her arrival to the fleet. The one on the right was her commanding officer, Colonel Wallace of the Gaian Imperial Intelligence Services. They flanked a man whom Ayesha did not recognize.

“Agent Hasani,” said Colonel Wallace, greeting her with a smile and a nod.

“Colonel. And Admiral Orion, sir,” she said, nodding to the admiral. He gave her a more formal salute.

The third man gave her no greeting.

In a single fleeting glance, Ayesha sized him up. He had a full red beard, but looked no older than thirty-five standard years. He stood quite tall, with broad, muscular shoulders. Unlike the two officers, he wore a simple gray jumpsuit and a synthleather vest, a clothing style common on the Outworld frontier.

“Agent Hasani, may I present Captain Samson of the Starflight II.”

He’s not one of ours, she realized. Prior to her arrival, she had familiarized herself with the names of every ship in the fleet, as well as their commanding officers. The Starflight II was most likely a light civilian freighter, then, and Samson one of the Outworlders.

Which made him an enemy.

“Captain Samson,” she said, offering her hand.

“Call me Samson,” he said as he took it.

His hands were thick and caloused, with a little bit of engine grease caught between the cracks. Though he smiled at her, there was a grimace in his expression, and his eyes were subdued. It was abundantly clear to her that he was present against his will.

“And you may call me Ayesha,” she said, disarming him with a smile. His face became unreadable.

“Samson will be your partner for the next several missions,” Colonel Wallace explained. “He is a well known merchant pilot and will help you infiltrate the target systems without arousing suspicion.”

His fingers danced across a keypad, and the holographic projector came to life. It showed a three dimensional starmap of the frontier systems between the New Pleiades and the Coreward Stars. The Imperial battlefleet’s location in the vicinity of the Bacca system was marked in red. On the far end of the projection, the Troya and Vulcana systems were marked as the primary and secondary objectives of the military campaign.

“The Outworlders have developed a device, known as a “jump beacon,” that allows them to pull starships out of jumpspace at a designated location,” Wallace explained. “We have obtained a working prototype of this device and are in the process of manufacturing more. Your mission is to fly ahead of the battlefleet and use the device to concentrate our forces when we attack.

Sounds simple enough, Ayesha thought. Of course, even the simplest battle plans always fell apart upon contact with the enemy.

Admiral Orion stepped forward. “Our first target will be the frontier system of Colkhia. The Outworlders will expect us to strike first at Bacca or Iayus, as the expeditionary fleet did. Since the jump beacon device gives us a much greater range of attack, we will use the element of surprise to our advantage.”

Ayesha glanced at Samson out of the corner of her eye. Why was the admiral revealing their to someone who was clearly the enemy? Because he was her “partner,” she no doubt would be tasked with keeping him under control. That had the potential to end rather badly.

“Do you have any questions, Captain?” Orion asked, directing his question at Samson.

“No,” Samson answered, his voice low.

“Very well. You are dismissed.”

Now the real briefing begins, Ayesha mused as Samson left the room. When the door hissed shut and the three of them were alone, Colonel Wallace turned to her.

“Do you have any questions, agent?”

“Yes,” said Ayesha, folding her arms. “Who is that man, and why is he my ‘partner’?”

“Samson is a well-known figure in the Outworlds,” Admiral Orian answered her. “He has contacts across the New Pleiades, including several officials within the Outworld Confederacy.”

“He is also very… prolific,” Wallace added.

Ayesha raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“He has a reputation for keeping a lover in almost every Outworld port. By some estimates, he has almost a hundred children with nearly as many women.”

Impressive, Ayesha mused.

“The expeditionary fleet picked him up in the retreat following the first Battle of Colkhia,” Admiral Orion continued. “Although he denied working with the Outworlders, he was found with top-secret military documents stored on his ship’s computer. We subsequently detained and interrogated him.”

“Why wasn’t he executed?” Ayesha asked. The Gaian Empire did not formally recognize the Outworld Confederacy, instead classifying them as pirates. Imperial military doctrine called for them to be spaced.

“The intelligence services quickly found use for him,” Colonel Wallace answered. “Samson may be promiscuous, but he is also a family man, of a sort. When we made it clear that we knew the names and locations of several of his lovers, he agreed to work for us.”

So you’re blackmailing him. And you expect me to keep him “loyal.”

“What happened to the expeditionary fleet?” she asked.

Admiral Orion’s face reddened. “That information is on a strict need-to-know—”

“And Agent Hasani needs to know, Admiral.” Colonel Wallace turned to her. “The expeditionary fleet was repulsed with nearly sixty-percent losses. The entire campaign was a disaster.”

So the rumors are true.

“What about the Starfire?” she asked.

“It was lost at the first Battle of Colkhia, and is presumed to be in enemy hands.”

Admiral Orion scowled. “Our initial losses have proved quite costly, but only because of the edge that our enemy’s innovative FTL technology has given them. Now that the field has been equalized, we will crush them in one swift stroke. Your mission, Agent Hasani, is the key.”

“And how do I know that this Samson can be trusted?”

“He can’t, of course,” Colonel Wallace answered. “But I hardly think that will prove an obstacle to someone of your talents.”

“Certainly not.”

“The fleet is counting on you, Agent Hasani. Indeed, the Empire is counting on you. Do not disappoint us.”

Ayesha scowled. “Don’t insult me, Colonel. I know my duty.”

Patriots in Retreat
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By Joe Vasicek

Joe Vasicek is the author of more than twenty science fiction books, including the Star Wanderers and Sons of the Starfarers series. As a young man, he studied Arabic and traveled across the Middle East and the Caucasus. He claims Utah as his home.

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