Prologue
Four months after the battle…
The outer rim of Sagacity controlled space — Border with Nanite Imperium.
Fleet Admiral Hardwicke leaned over the command screen and brought up the details on the jump point. It was one of three possible exits in this system from the Nanite Imperium’s system. All around the bridge, his people moved and muttered commands into their headsets while trying to gain a slight advantage.
He smiled, stroking his mustache absently as he watched the computer plot the possible exit trajectories for the jump point. In less than five minutes, he would be able to see every possible exit angle and velocity. From there, it would just be a case of choosing the ONE point they would leave open. It would be the only possible exit left for the Imperium ships.
When they came, he would be waiting, right along with his fleet.
“Minelayers are deploying now, sir,” Stibbert, his First Assistant and Executive Officer, reported. “The Second and Fifth wings are on their way to the other jump points.”
“Not long now, Mister Stibbert,” Hardwicke said confidently. As always, he ignored Stibbert’s uniform’s horrific state. The man could crumple steel. There was even a long stain running down one sleeve today. It seemed they had a sauce with lunch; that was something to look forward to, he supposed.
“No, sir,” Stibbert said blandly, eyes staring straight ahead.
“I expect this will be a short siege,” Hardwicke said, pontificating deliberately to get a rise from the man. “This upstart Imperium will probably signal defeat in less than a month.”
“Yes, sir,” Stibbert scratched the side of his head, leaving flakes on the only clean part of his uniform.
“I don’t know why we even bothered, really,” Hardwicke pressed. “They will probably collapse on their own. They normally do.”
“Yes, sir,” Stibbert sniffed slightly. “Shame to bother, really.”
“A lot of fuss about nothing,” Hardwicke insisted.
“Yes, sir,” Stibbert acknowledged.
“Just Carter overreacting again,” Hardwicke said with a sneer.
“Fuck him!” Stibbert snapped. “Little fuckin’ upstart, prick!” He froze and sighed in defeat, handing a credit chip over to his commanding officer with a wry smile.
“One day, you should forgive him,” Hardwicke smiled as he took it. “You’d be richer.”
“Sir, I’d happily skin the little rat-fuck-weasel myself, and if the Nanite Imperium got ‘im, I say let them have the bastard system as payment!” Stibbert was almost vibrating in rage.
“I was only one bet,” Hardwicke laughed. “Just one.”
“He cheated!” Stibbert snapped. “He put a delay on the feed!”
“And you should have seen it coming,” Hardwicke sighed happily. “I still remember how you came back to the ship nearly purple with rage. Happy memories.”
“Sirs,” Comm Officer Vetch saluted. “The Ten Suns Fleet reports they have begun to mine and encircle the assigned jump points in their system.”
“Good,” Hardwicke nodded to her, “Thank you, tell them to continue with their assignment.”
“They asked to speak to the hostages again, sirs,” Vetch replied. “Standard response?”
“Standard response,” Stibbet confirmed.
The officer saluted and returned to their console.
The minelayers began their slow work while the first and eighth wings of the Imperial Line took position around the jump point. The second and fifth did the same at the two smaller jump points.
The Imperial Line and the mercenary Ten Suns Fleet took positions around the jump points in the neighboring systems of the Sagacity and the Confederated Systems Alliance. In the notorious Black Port, the hired privateers and just plain pirates surrounded their only jump point and planned their spoils to come.
Massages shot back and forth through relays and stations until, finally, the shortest message of all went all the way back to the headquarters of the Imperial Line itself.
Blockade established.
===<<>>===
Bly’s Rest, Home system of the Nanite Imperium
“Admiral on deck!”
Nellie strode onto the command deck and looked around at the pristine displays and the officers and crew she knew so well waiting patiently for her first command.
“Comm, contact the Rest and tell them we are ready to push. Baz, plot us a route to the testing grounds.” Nellie called, her new X.O. repeating each order as she called them out.
“Remain calm,” Lucy whispered in her ear, “They are still your people, and this is still your ship. Things are just a little bigger now.”
“Rest, this is N.S.S. Carrier-class, I.D. Sparklight, reporting ready to push on your command.” The communication officer, a woman named Wilkes with her auburn hair shaved on one side, called over the secure line. She was one of the standouts from the training program, earning herself a place on their new flagship in the process.
“Roger, Sparklight. Rest, reports clear to push. Bon Voyage, and happy hunting.”
“Course plotted,” Baz reported, his usual mirth still missing. He had taken the losses of the recent battle pretty hard. He had known Vey from practically the moment of his birth. While the more professional attitude might have been efficient, Nellie would have traded it for his old smile any day.
“Ship reports ready to get underway,” Boone said smartly, twisting his ramrod-straight body ever so slightly to face her. Another standout, this one trained by Crush himself, Boone took professional and military bearing as an insult. He considered himself above both, aiming for something that her people had taken to calling ‘Nanite Bearing.’
Nellie had tried to enforce the idea that it just came from not needing to breathe and similar things, but the general population seemed to consider it something to aim for.
Even the ones without nanites.
“Take us out,” Nellie nodded to Boone.
“Launching in three, two, one… Underway, Admiral.” Boone nodded his utterly bald head once and returned to watching the command displays as if they were in the thick of combat.
While the bridge crew did their jobs, Nellie was left with very little actually to do. It was crazy, but the further you got up the command chain, the less you actually did yourself.
Not that she was short of work to do.
Quite the opposite.
Running her eyes down the details of the new carrier, Nellie was amazed at how far they had come in a few months. This carrier was now fully stocked with twenty of the new Orb craft—capable of being anything from a combat shuttle to a planetary shuttle to an orbital weapons platform—Three of the renamed Indomitable shuttle class; they were updated versions of the original Bly, and still her personal favorite, four combat shuttles, thirty of the smaller drones, and twelve of Paren’s satellites, complete with the secret feature she still refused to tell anyone.
That was in addition to the twenty-member crew and the Centrum staff of one hundred and fifty units waiting to be used for landing parties and boarding forces.
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This was only the core of their new fleet. The Bly was fully repaired and was now under Dar's permanent control. It had been a close-run thing if he would take over the other capital ship, but in the end, Lucy had taken it herself. The name of the new capital ship, Vey’s Charge, just made it easier for him to take the Bly.
Their two new cruiser-class ships were already out and waiting for her, falling into place on either side of the carrier as they headed for the test ground.
Their four new destroyers were already in the testing ground, running drills.
That just left a single ship attached to the station, a light cruiser named Talon.
The captain was late, apparently, along with the two senior bridge officers.
Not exactly a surprise.
Some people had more trouble adapting than others, Nellie sighed. Of course, some were just difficult by nature.
“Nellie to Crush, where the hell are you this time?”
===<<<>>>===
“Almost there!” Crush grinned as Nellie’s irritated face appeared in the corner of his vision. “We stopped to correct a few of the trainees on the way out.”
“Crush,” Nellie sighed at him. “You get this is not optional, right?”
“Of course, your highness,” Crush chuckled.
“Stop it!” Nellie tried not to smile.
“All right, but it was your idea to give us a ship,” Crush added as he hopped through an airlock. “We didn’t ask.”
“You are the Marshalls of the Nanite Imperium. You can’t just hitchhike.” Nellie actually did laugh this time. “And you need to learn how to move in formation. Just in case.”
“It’s been four months, Nell,” Crush added, slowing down slightly. “You still think they are coming back?”
“If not them, then someone worse,” Nellie’s face took on that hard look he had come to know. It was the look he had seen on the best commanders, one he knew he trusted, even if seeing it on her made a part of him sad.
“So we will learn,” Crush waved to the others, and they blurred through the halls, arriving at the final airlock and bouncing off. “Ow.”
“She said you had to do the thing,” Cara grinned and leaned past him to type in the code.
“Salem, you can fucking see it is us!” Crush called up at the camera.
“Yes, I can,” Salem said, sounding amused.
“So you could have opened it!” Crush added.
“Yes, I could,” Salem confirmed.
“You have been spending too much time around Baz,” Crush grinned and punched in his passcode.
The airlock hissed open, and the three former soldiers stepped into their own ship for the first time.
“Hey, boss!” Prim waved happily as she saw them come onto the bridge.
“Wait,” Cara looked around. “You’re all the ones we know, right?”
“They are all the same one,” Andy nudged her.
“No, she’s right,” Crush said, stopping the argument before it could start. “You’re Banjo’s people, right?”
“Knew he would remember,” Sec grinned as Quad tossed him a small nanite cube.
“Yeah, yeah,” Tri stepped out of the corner where he had been painting a symbol on the back wall of the bridge. “What do you think, boss?”
Crush turned and saw something that made his breath catch in his throat.
Two steel gauntlets had been painted on the wall, with a small hole burned through the center. A scorpion-like tail curled underneath them while a black cape formed a shield shape behind the whole thing.
The final touch was the words ‘Marshalls of the Nanite Imperium’ written in block letters above it.
“We kind of redesigned your badge,” Tri added absently, sitting down at the scan terminal.
“It’s perfect,” Crush said, his throat a little tight. “Are you guys my permanent crew?”
“If you want us,” Prim said instantly. “They don’t know what to do with us, I guess.”
“What do you mean?” Cara asked.
“Our consciousness has split from the rest of the hive minds,” Tri added helpfully. “We are our own thing now. We can still back up, which is handy.”
“I still think Mum did it,” Quad said sullenly. “She loved Banjo.”
“Okay, I’m gonna cry,” Andy turned away. “We gotta keep ‘em.”
“Of course we are keeping them,” Crush nodded, trying to pretend his eyes were dry. “Welcome to the Marshalls, all of you.”
“Uh-huh,” Sec waved a hand. “We are super late, by the way.”
“Do I need to do anything?” Crush asked.
“You should sit in the chairs,” Prim said, pointing at the three chairs in the center of the bridge. “Leave the rest to us; we’ll live longer.”
“Feel free to issue orders if you want,” Tri offered.
“Will they listen?” Cara whispered.
“Of course,” Prim replied tartly.
“As long as we agree with ‘em,” Sec nodded.
“Oh, they will just fit right in,” Andy laughed, having heard way too many lectures on not blindly following orders, even Crush’s.
“Yo, Rest! We’re outta here,” Tri called.
“Talon, damn it! We talked about this!” Salem called angrily over the comm.
“Yeah, well,” Prim giggled. “You talk a lot; we can’t be expected to remember everything you say.”
“Yes, you can!” Salem hissed. “We all have perfect recall!”
“Do we?” Quad asked. “Blow me! I didn’t remember that.”
There was nothing but hissing static and the sound of bending metal before the line cut out.
Crush looked over at Cara, seeing her frantically reading the flight manual, and grinned.
Yes, this would definitely work.
===<<<>>>===
Interior of the Bly’s Rest, Research and Development Laboratory
“I should be included,” The Girl said quietly, aware that the person she was talking to could always hear her, no matter how much noise there was. “The exploration of the only habitable world in this system is important. Also, it will be fun.”
“It sure will be,” Paren said, pulling out an organ from the corpse she was dissecting and examining it closely before adding it to the bin by her metal legs. “But Nell would never let you come, let alone Lucy.”
“She’s in space,” The Girl sighed. “You can call her mum; she can’t hear you.”
“I can hear her,” Paren grinned, a signal feed even now allowing her to eavesdrop on Nellie and Crush talking about thrust vectors. “But I take your point. It just feels weird still.”
“Doesn’t she feel like your mum?” The Girl asked.
“Sort of,” Paren sighed and threw the corpse on the reject pile, pulling another body onto the slab. “But she never said I could.”
“Did you ask?” The Girl prodded.
“Chosen a name yet?” Paren glared.
“Sisters should not argue,” Robot offered hopefully. “I believe Cix-El told me that.”
“No, he didn’t,” Paren said.
“It is something he might have said,” The Girl sighed. “So, why can’t I come to the planet?”
“You’re too young,” Paren gestured at the girl. “You look like you are about ten or something.”
“I am older than that,” The Girl replied sulkily.
“You don’t look it, is my point,” Paren injected some nanites into the hand she had just severed and watched the results avidly.
“I need to be older, is what you are saying,” The Girl sighed. “This appearance is optimal to get people to lower their guard.”
“If you are strong enough, it does not matter if their guard is up,” Paren pointed out.
“Very well, I take your point,” The Girl sighed again. “Can I do it here?”
“What?” Paren asked.
“Grow up a bit.”
“Sure, you are always welcome here; I told you that.” Paren turned to look as the young girl hopped off the pile of dead Imperial Line soldiers she had been sitting on.
“This won’t take a moment,” The Girl said. “I just need some clothes for after.”
“What?” Paren asked, then stared as the girl stretched, her limbs lengthening as she did so. Over the next few seconds, her body changed and grew as the complicated machinery inside flexed and moved beneath her skin. She stopped at one point, eyeing Paren critically before making a couple more changes.
When she was done, she shook her head, her hair growing as it darkened to midnight blue.
“There,” The Girl ripped off the remains of her clothes. “Have you got a spare shipsuit?”
Paren pointed at a locker in the far wall mutely.
“Thanks.”
“That was amazing!” Paren gasped. “Hey, can I—”
“No,” The Girl said, smiling as she got dressed.
“Please?” Paren asked.
The Girl just grinned and hopped back up on the pile of corpses.
“Is this normal?” Robot asked. “I am unsure how growing up normally works.”
“No, that was not normal,” Paren sighed as she waved her hand, summoning a new corpse from the pile on a wave of silvery nanites. “That was cheating.”
“Bet I can go to the planet now,” The Girl replied, picking up a metal file from the tools scattered about and filing her nails smugly.
“Yeah, probably,” Paren shrugged and got back to work. She had a lot to do while everyone was busy watching what the Queens were up to at the test grounds.
The last time someone saw her doing this, Paren got a long talking to about not raising zombies.
As if.
She had something much better planned. And a whole planet to test it on.
===<<<>>>===
Salem monitored the feeds from the various ships with only about half her attention. So much had changed recently, and yet so much stayed the same.
The black, empty screens where Paren’s cameras should be were just exactly as they always were, but now, she had sound.
Paren had left the sound pickups alone.
It wasn’t much, but it was a start.
Flicking through the internal screens, Salem scanned the various levels and focused briefly on the training schools. They were humming, as they always had for the last three months. The total complement of people had jumped, with Crush’s colony having joined them wholesale. It was good to see the station filling with life, but her eyes flicked on to the one that held her attention most of the time now.
The main chamber was no longer singed, but there had been one permanent change.
A statue now graced the central square. On it, three men stood back to back. Vey looked noble and kind, while Cix-El had his permanent polite, friendly smile. Banjo stood with a huge grin, one fist raised above his head.
The plaque underneath was simple, but Salem thought it said everything that needed to be said.
They led the way.