Chapter Forty-One

Planning

“Birdsong, Heavy Cruiser, Captain Hellena of the Falling Waters.” Nellie read. “Ship details are as follows: Twelve laser arrays and ten missile banks. Shields are strong for a cruiser, but the place where your ship excels is in the top speed. Like the other ships in the Confederacy’s Falling Waters faction, your engines run about twenty percent faster than standard. Other notable features include a doubled thruster loadout, which gives you the ability to outmaneuver other ships. Known weaknesses in the ship frame include a weak point three compartments fore of the stern. Kinetic weapons fire there can tear your ship open.” Nellie saw the Captain go pale. “Crew complement is three hundred, a third of which are detailed as marines. Your father currently leads the Ten Suns after the Falling Waters faction rose to dominance in the recent election cycle. The hostages held include your mother and three brothers. Need I go on?”

“No, Queen Bonne Chance, you have made your point well enough,” Hellena glowered. “The lists are apparently real, but unless they detail the hostages’ location, it helps us little.”

“Other than listing the weaknesses of the Line ships, you mean?” Nellie noted. “And their disposition and locations?”

“Yes,” Hellena said.

“It does not include the hostage lists, as it happens,” Nellie said with a smile. “The hostage lists and procedures were in a footnote.”

“Pardon?” Hellena gaped.

“The complete list of hostages, what ships they are moved to, when, and how.” Nellie gestured to the relay behind her holographic form, which spat out a hard copy of the information. “A major Shareholder gave the datapad to their assistant before sending them through to establish the asteroid base, it appears. They intended to parley a victory into a management position after the blockade. Their communications were found in the man’s cabin. The shareholder in question appeared to consider herself exceptional in many ways. “

“With this information, we can save our people,” Hellena said, staring at the papers as if they were likely to combust at any moment, leaving her holding nothing but ashes.

“You can certainly try,” Nellie said mildly, “but if the Ten Suns fleet attacks, it will just cause them to execute the hostages.”

“Do you have a plan?” Hellena asked.

“That depends,” Nellie smiled, “How confident are you of being able to control communications around that system you are in right now?”

“We have this jump point sealed, but that is about it,” Hellena said with a shrug. “We could control this system’s relays but not the ships passing through. We just don’t have enough ships.”

“Can you block scan on the area around the jump point?” Nellie asked.

“Yes, we can.” Hellena nodded.

“That's good; then it's time to start hassling the local traffic,” Nellie said, explaining their plan.

The basic idea was to play a little bluff game. Hellena and her ships would begin to choose ships at random, coral them away from the primary traffic, and escort them over to the jump point for ‘inspection,’ giving every indication of attempting to extort payments from the captains. They would do this every day for the next week or so, creating a little fuss but also getting passing ships used to the idea of ships coming back from the jump point area after being questioned.

After that, it was just a case of adding one during a lull in traffic.

The Taking Liberties, dressed up to look like a simple trader, would emerge from the system and move through the Sagacity, arriving at the ninth wings’ lines from behind.

During a diversion, the Marshalls would board the ship, recover the hostages, and vanish again.

“What kind of diversion are you planning?” Hellena asked.

“Oh, that’s simple,” Nellie grinned. “I am going to attack the Imperial line.”

“Any attack would be suicide,” Hellena warned. “They have more than enough firepower to destroy anything coming through the jump point. Worse, attacking the ninth will just reveal the attempt to free the hostages!”

“We will be attacking multiple places,” Nellie said coldly. “And anywhere the Ten Suns are solely responsible for guarding will report large attacks as well.”

“I see,” Hellena nodded. “But even so…”

“Captain Hellena, kindly leave the management of my own forces to me.” Nellie sighed. “I can promise they will not realize which place we are really focused on.”

“How can you be sure?” Hellena pressed. “My family's lives may rely on this if you fail to get them out.”

“Because I will be taking the Harbinger through the jump point leading to the main force,” Nellie glowered. “I am reasonably certain that will prove distracting enough.”

The Harbinger was immediately classified by the Imperial Line, which made the information about its existence valuable and made the ship famous almost instantly. At this point, people several jump points away were already dismissing it as a myth.

That seemed to be enough to mollify the nervous Captain Hellena, not that Nellie really cared how she felt about things. The woman had no other choices, so she would do what she was told. That was all that mattered at the moment.

Nellie had tried to muster up some empathy for Hellena’s situation but couldn’t seem to manage it. According to the Imperial Line files, the trading of hostages was a regular part of political relationships within the Confederacy. The recent elections had been an opportunity for everyone to come together, and they had installed the hostages from every faction in a neutral station where everyone could visit their family members in peace.

Only the neutral station immediately sold the hostages to their silent business partner, the Imperial Line.

As far as Nellie was concerned they had brought this situation on themselves.

When it came to arguments that the Confederacy was not able to take back the hostages against a superior force? Well, Nellie was doing it, wasn’t she?

With matters settled, Nellie left Hellena to start her own protection racket and returned to focusing on her internal projects.

The automated cruisers' conversion to the new Liberty-class was almost complete, and the improved building speed on the Imperium-class ship meant it would be ready in another day.

Boone was practically vibrating with excitement since she informed him that he and the entire crew from the Sparklight would be transferring over to command it. Although that information had almost come a distant second to the conversion she had offered him, Wilkes, and the rest of the crew. They had performed well above and beyond expectations for such a young crew, fighting bravely in both the invasion and when turning back the Line’s beachhead attempts.

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Not to mention working all hours to patrol the system and now overseeing the mining of the asteroid belt.

Whenever she had asked, they had answered the call to action big or small. That kind of thing deserved a reward, and so they were her newest drones and apparently delighted with the fact.

Any reticence that her people had harbored about conversion to a drone was long gone, washed away on the tide of war.

Well, most of them.

There was one who still seemed strangely opposed to them, and Nellie was about to deal with that.

“Come in, Logistics Officer,” Nellie said cheerfully. She was in a training area on the Harbinger, with several large boxes and crates around her.

“Ma’am,” Cheape said, coming in and looking anxiously around the empty room. “You called for me?”

“I did, Cheape,” Nellie said, trying not to smirk at the terrified young woman. The truth was, Cheape kind of reminded Nellie of herself when she had first arrived in this part of the galaxy. Confused, overwhelmed, surrounded by things she did not understand, but still determined to do well. “How is working with Remy going?”

“Thanks to the tireless Sparklight, Ma'am, I have managed to meet his supply orders so far,” Cheape replied.

“Yes, you have done very well, Cheape,” Nellie said. “In fact, your work has been impeccable at all times. Often in trying conditions.”

“Thank you, Ma’am,” Cheape said, standing tall and suppressing a smile badly.

“You are also exhausted, thanks to not being a drone. You just can’t keep up this level of work without causing yourself serious damage.” Nellie said.

It was a statement of fact. Nanites not only regulated a body well, but they performed a hundred minor fixes every day, healing damage before it ever got big enough to become a real problem. It allowed people powered by the nanites to work longer, work harder, and need much less sleep.

Cheape had been trying to keep up all on her own, and the result was that she was starting to look a little ragged. Her skin was pale and dry, and there were large circles around her eyes. Unless Nellie was mistaken, her hair was getting thinner as well.

“I see, Ma’am,” Cheape said, looking down.

“I understand that you have turned down the conversion process twice already?” Nellie asked.

“Yes, Ma’am.” Cheape offered apologetically. “I meant no offense.”

“And none was taken, Cheape,” Nellie said gently. “Look, it seems to me that you would rather avoid nanite integration if you can, is that right?”

“At this time, yes.” Cheape nodded. “I’m sure I’ll adjust in time, but at the moment….”

“Go on,” Nellie encouraged her.

“They give me the ick, Ma’am,” Cheape said, immediately blushing but standing tall anyway.

Nellie tried her best not to react but she ended up laughing so hard she was almost crying.

“Ma’am?” Cheape asked after a moment.

“Sorry! Sorry!” Nellie wiped her eyes with a smile. Wow, she had really needed that. “That was very succinctly put, Cheape. Is it all advanced tech, or just the nanites?”

“Just the nanites, Ma’am,” Cheape squirmed. “It’s the idea of all these tiny things moving about inside me—” She gagged and shivered.

“Easy!” Nellie laughed. “Don’t think about it.”

“Sorry,” Cheape flushed.

“Don’t be; that’s why we are here, Cheape.” Nellie smiled.

“Ma’am?” Cheape asked.

Nellie started with the smaller boxes arrayed on a table off to one side. Inside each one was a form of implant. They varied from the most basic model, which only gave a hud and basic communication options, all the way up to one that had just about every feature imaginable. It was taken mainly from the information Salem, and the other synths had, as well as the restricted armor items list on the recovered datapad. The absolute jewel of the lot was an all-singing and dancing model based on the one they had found in the I.E.S. base. Paren had taken it apart and built their own version, which was compatible with nanites but not reliant on it.

It used various methods to boost the body while assisting healing. None of it was on anything close to nanite levels, but as far as non-nanite tech went, it was the absolute best they had.

“Ma’am, this implant would cost the yearly profits of a medium-sized planet. Are you sure it is okay?” Cheape asked.

Nellie nodded, and Cheape eagerly chose it.

Next, they moved on to the sensory upgrade aspects. In this case, it was a set of external items that could be worn to increase vision and hearing. Cheape once more chose carefully, going for a mid-range model this time that resembled a set of lightly colored glasses and earbuds. It had the best pattern recognition, apparently.

“This is something designed by us,” Nellie said, leaving Paren’s name out just in case the young woman was harboring a grudge about losing out on Edwards. “It is a miniaturized exosuit that is worn against the skin instead of over clothing. While only boosting things by about thirty percent, it would still work to close the gap between you and someone using nanites.”

The exosuit in question resembled a set of white bands that formed a lattice against the skin. It actually looked quite nice, but Nellie noticed certain areas were left exposed… which made her wonder what Paren had initially designed it for. That was also information she kept to herself.

“And now the big ticket item,” Nellie grinned. “Allow me to present… the Vicky Modular Boost Suit!”

This was another secret project, one that was being run by Crush’s girlfriend, Vicky, and it had all come about because of Banjo.

Vickt had become obsessed with the idea of people without nanites being able to defend themselves, but that had morphed over time into a more even approach. What they ended up with was power armor, if it was designed by an engineer instead of a soldier… which is exactly what had happened.

The suit was almost seven feet tall and opened at the front to allow someone in or out. The exterior design favored smooth metal with stylized representations of the normal humanoid shape. Each forearm featured large lifting clamps that could slide down into position over the gauntlets to convert it into a cargo loader, while the legs featured the ability to increase their height by almost fifty percent or could deploy powerful stabilizers around each foot. Mounts on the shoulders could hold weapons but could also hold anything from a winch to a toolbox. Mounts on the back could hold huge amounts of weight on the reinforced but flexible spine, allowing the suit to carry more than most mid-sized grav lifts.

Almost as an afterthought, it was a full rebreathing sealed environment capable of spacewalks, navigation, and even flights, albeit at very slow speeds compared to an average shuttle.

“What is this?” Cheape asked, running her hands over the object lovingly.

“That's Vicky having a bad day,” Nellie laughed. “It's a chainsaw using nano blade-tipped chain.”

“Can I have it, too?” Cheape asked. “I mean, if it goes with the suit, Ma’am.”

“Yes, Cheape,” Nellie grinned. “It goes with the suit.”

===<<<>>>===

“I don’t see why we need this,” Sec complained, backing away from Paren until he was pressed up against the bulkhead. “It’s unnatural.”

“Don’t be a baby,” Paren hissed angrily. “Get your little butt over here so I can put it on you.”

“I don’t wanna,” Sec turned to run, only to find the way blocked as the hatchway slammed closed. “Cheat!”

“Sec, be a good boy, and come let me get the skin suit on you, okay?” Paren called sweetly.

“This is an invasion of my civil liberties!” Sec protested feebly.

“You don’t have any civil liberties,” Paren countered.

“Can I have some?” Sec asked.

“If you’re a good boy,” Paren gestured.

“I don’t wanna be a real boy!” Sec grumbled, kicking the bulkhead dejectedly but reluctantly moving over to Paren’s temporary workstation on the heavy cruiser. “Is it going to feel funny?”

“It will feel just like the rest of you,” Paren insisted, “Arms up!”

Sec made gagging noises as the living flesh was pulled over his head and then the rest of his body.

“Help! I’m a eunuch!” Sec protested once Paren was done.

“Other parts will grow as the scars heal,” Paren snorted. “I have no time to design individual parts for you four.” She shivered. “Also, yuck!”

“I only have one eye; is that normal?” Sec protested.

“Well, you kept squirming,” Paren sighed, squeezing the cheek until she managed to force the fake eye back into position.

“How do you lot manage to talk with a bit of flappy flesh in the way?” Sec asked, pulling his tongue out alarmingly far to get a good look at it.

“Stop that!” Paren slapped his hand.

“Why do we need this again?” Sec complained.

Dressing up the Taking Liberties as a trading vessel was easy enough. They basically just had to add a bunch of empty shipping containers to the sides to hide the weapons and a few cosmetic panels to alter the shape.

The crew, on the other hand…

The prevalence of robotic crew in the Imperium was becoming quite well known as information leaked from the Imperial Line. Given how rare they were in the wider universe, it would make the Liberties stand out.

So, Paren had given the Four Cents an upgrade. The new skin suits over their internal metal gave them an unusual but organic appearance and would allow them to eat and drink, the materials broken down as fuel to maintain the nanite-built and maintained flesh.

Each one had their own look but were close enough to look related to each other.

That said, it had led to some awkward moments…

“Prim! Get some fucking clothes on!” Cara roared from somewhere in the ship.

They might need a little time to adjust, Paren decided.