Chapter 9

{She's beautiful,} Vanessa murmured. The swaddled infant was a soft, warm bundle in her arms. The shaft of light that entered the dimly lit shelter through a narrow window illuminated a round face and blue eyes that reminded her so much of her friend Miriya's daughter, little Dana Sterling. But Dana would be around ten years old now, wouldn't she? Vanessa thought to herself, feeling a pang in her heart. I've been away from Earth for far too long. This child was so young that she still had that look of wide-eyed fascination and bewilderment that Vanessa always found so endearing. The baby reached up with tiny plump fingers and vainly tried to grab Vaness's eye patch, grunting with the effort.

"But I need that, sweetie," Vanessa said, and very gently poked the child's cute little nose. Her eyes went even wider, and she gurgled with delight. Vanessa smiled back, even as tears sprang to her eyes. {What's her name?}

{Regulta,} the baby's mother, Quellan, answered. {I chose the name myself,} she added, proudly. Vanessa knew very well how important that must be to her, beyond even what Terran parents might feel. Zentraedi as a rule had almost no choices in shaping their lives and identities. At the time they were decanted, Zentraedi clones were assigned names chosen by algorithm. selected from a master list of approved consonant and vowel sub-groupings. The idea of family represented frontier territory for the warrior race. For many, the closest analogue that would allow them to comprehend the concept of a family relationship was to imagine that it placed one in the equivalent of a very small and very close-knit military unit.

Vanessa ran her fingers through Regulta's downy hair, which was a vibrant shade of teal, like her mother's, and the infant cooed happily. {A wonderful name,} she said, and looked at Saris, who was watching pensively from a corner of the tiny room. {But why didn't you just tell me? The children need whatever help my crew can provide, more than anyone else.}

{I wanted to tell you, at the right time. I needed to be sure you weren't planning to imprison and punish the Zentraedi. And also, well, the Zentraedi having children, it is a crime, you see,} Saris said worriedly.

{A crime? Why?} Vanessa feared she could guess the answer, even as she asked.

{It is forbidden for clones to procreate. The Masters do not want any random elements interfering with their program to create the perfect beings. The perfect society. Nor do they want any factors that might interfere with their hold over their clones. Most Tiresians support this. The Zentraedi aren't seen as the people's protectors, they are feared, and the idea of them reproducing independently is even more feared.}

{And you…?}

Saris met Vanessa's eye. {I've helped the parents. Helped them keep the children a secret. Helped get the children food and medical care. It's not that difficult. I have access to all the supplies and equipment that are needed, and few Tiresians choose to visit the bay.}

{How many children are there?}

{Thirty-two. Eleven went to the Children's Crèche with the Tiresian children. No one but their mothers and I know that they have Zentraedi fathers. But the ones born here, by Zentraedi mothers, to Zentraedi or Tiresian fathers, are kept hidden. The Zentraedi know about them, but they have all chosen silence. I've taught many of them how to care for the little ones, and they take it in shifts to help the mothers who need to work or rest.} Saris lowered her eyes. {Which is fortunate, because after the battle the other day, eight of them no longer have parents.}

Vanessa drew Regulta tighter against her chest, protectively. "God, no," she whispered. {It was all so senseless!} she burst out angrily. Suddenly all of her arguments to Duy Liem carried less weight against the growing scope of the tragedy. {We would have helped you! Whose idea was it to send the Zentraedi into battle against a completely unknown force of ships?}

Saris remained calm in the face of Vanessa's anger. {I thought you wanted to move forward. Does it really help anyone to assign blame? We did not know you. We were all frightened and irrational. The whole leadership council was involved in the decision.}

{We wanted to fight,} Quellan spoke up. {It is what we do. We were pleased that we had the chance to fight for our survival. Our children's survival. The years have been hard. Confusing. We all feel lost.}

Vanessa deflated. {I'll do my best to change things for the better. If I have my way, you won't be lost much longer. And neither will Regulta.} The baby began to squirm and fuss in Vanessa's arms, and Quellan reached out and took her baby back.

{She is hungry, and wants to be fed. I have found that her needs must be met without delay.} Quellan smiled suddenly, a fond, mother's smile that was universal across cultures and light years, and tugged at Vanessa's heart. {She is a most exacting superior,} Quellan said proudly as she unfastened her jumpsuit and arranged her daughter so she could begin feeding her.

{Is her father ok?} Vanessa asked gently.

{Hm?} Quellan looked up from her nursing child. {The father? He's fine. A Tiresian maintenance technician. We met when he spent several days here repairing a fault in the overhead ventilation. I do not see him anymore,} she said with a shrug.

Vanessa shifted uncomfortably. {He didn't… force you to do anything, did he?}

Quellan looked amused. {No, I assisted him during his work, since it was so high up in the bay. We found interesting ways to enjoy ourselves during our breaks. He was very cute, but if he had tried to 'force' me to do anything, I would have snapped his scrawny micronian neck.}

Vanessa looked at the firm muscles of Quellan's bared shoulders and biceps and decided the woman was telling the truth. {Does he know about Regulta?}

Quellan shrugged disinterestedly. {I don't believe so. He hasn't been assigned to work in the bay for over a year. Does that matter?}

Vanessa swallowed. No way I'm touching that issue, not until the safety of the children and their mothers is guaranteed. It's not my right to decide about that anyway.

{For now, the Zentraedi have agreed with me that it's best if as few people know about the children as possible,} Saris spoke up. {I think there are other parents who have suspicions about the ones in the Children's Crèche, but no one has talked about it openly.}

{Would the children really be hurt if the truth got out?}

{If you're asking whether a mob would form to hunt them down… I don't know. I like to think my people aren't that terrible. But other things could happen…} Saris thought about the question for a moment while Regulta continued to noisily drink. {Kruz would want to punish the parents, both Zentraedi couples and the mixed ones. Astoria is an effective leader, but harsh and insistent, and she seems to dislike the Zentraedi. She might call for all of the Zentraedi and their children to be exiled from the ship. Ryche is less hot-headed, but he values stability. He may suggest that the Zentraedi be completely restricted to this bay except during missions. I don't think Divall will take any strong position. He possesses a great deal of knowledge, but he would want to avoid trouble. And Glana.} She tapped her chin. {She's very practical. She's only ever judged people based on their usefulness to the survival of the whole group. She might say that all of the young ones should be separated from their parents and moved to the Children's Crèche.}

{I will not be separated from my child!} Quellan said fiercely.

{No one is going to separate anyone right now,} Vanessa assured the woman. {Saris, your assessment of the leadership is not particularly encouraging. But then again, the situation has greatly changed. It's not entirely up to the leadership council anymore. I'd ask you what you thought should be done, but given how you've helped the children, I think I know how you would answer.}

Saris nodded. {Quellan, what life would you have for yourself and your child? What do you want?}

Quellan pursed her lips. She gazed down at Regulta, still feeding, but starting to look drowsy. She brushed her fingers lightly across her daughter's round cheek, and looked up at the two other women. {I want… to stop having to hide my child. I want her to spend her days in the open. I want her to be safe, and grow, and become strong. I want to teach her what I know, and I want her to have the chance to learn all of the things the Tiresians know, the things I never did. If the Armada is really gone… I don't know what kind of life is possible, but I want her to choose the life that she wants. To stand tall and fight as a warrior… or… not,} she trailed off. Regulta was asleep, and Quellan wiped her mouth with a clean rag, then nestled her against her shoulder and gently patted her back.

{I may be able to help make that happen,} Vanessa said quietly, so as not to disturb the baby. {But it would mean a lot of change. You would probably have to leave the Shalazar forever.}

{This ship is not my home. It is more like a prison. I am not afraid. Neither are the others.}

{It would mean trusting those you fought against. Those who killed your comrades, and whom you killed in return.}

Quellan lifted her chin. {Death is a warrior's fate. I do not blame you. What would be the point? We were bested, and now it is for the victor to decide what to do. The question is, can you speak for all of your people? Will they seek to punish us?}

{On Earth, we had to find a way to forgive far worse. If you will accept the REF's authority and protection, then I will talk to my commander, and see if we can make your dreams for Regulta come true.}

Quellan held out a hand for Vanessa to clasp. {Let it be so. I will talk to the other parents. They will agree.}

Saris watched the pair of former enemies, one eyebrow raised. She looked like she didn't dare to believe that she might soon be relieved of her secret burden. {I do not understand soldiers at all.}

"After our little adventure down on Altrea, I didn't expect you to voluntarily separate yourself from the group, Captain," Kaden said when she rejoined him. The assembly had broken up, although a good number of Zentraedi still loitered around the area, as if to reassure themselves that Kaden wouldn't suddenly disappear like an apparition. He still wasn't quite acting himself.

"There were things I had to see for myself. I had confidence in you, and I thought it was the best time."

Kaden smiled. "Boldly done. Perhaps even a bit reckless," he teased.

"I wasn't being reckless. I was sure that if there was any trouble, the cavalry would come to my rescue."

"Not cavalry, ma'am. Marines," the master sergeant, still standing guard close by, dead-panned. "There are no, and never have been, any cavalry units in the Marines."

"My apologies, Sergeant," she said with a tolerant smile. "What does our situation look like, Colonel? Will the Zentraedi cooperate?"

Kaden nodded. "I believe they will. They were eager for any kind of information beyond the rumors and guesswork they've had to make do with. They understand that the Grand Fleet is finished, and their own way of life is gone forever. But it is still a shock, after so many years cut off from any other support, and then having to take refuge among the Tiresians."

"Do you think they still feel loyalty to the Masters?"

"Loyalty?" Kaden raised his chin. He was still smiling, but the question had stung him for some reason. "And will you question my loyalties as well?"

Vanessa frowned. "Why would I do that?"

"You questioned my loyalty before. And my motivation."

"I haven't suddenly become suspicious of Zentraedi, Colonel. I want to help these people, but they are strangers, and I have to ask, because Admiral Mbande will ask. What's wrong?"

Kaden glanced to the side, and Vanessa followed his gaze. Among the Zentraedi lingering in the area was Atalal, watching the pair of them sidelong, arms clasped behind her back, standing with one knee bent, and tapping her toe nervously. Vanessa couldn't remember the last time she saw a Zentraedi pretending to be nonchalant, and doing it so badly.

"Forgive me," Kaden finally said. "I am feeling unsettled. They tried to swear oaths of loyalty and service to me. It's been a long time since command belonged to me simply by virtue of my blood. On Earth, my name is a liability. Here, the Zentraedi are looking at me as if I am a savior. And now I feel responsible to them."

"You don't know the half of it. There's more I'll fill you in when we're back aboard our own ship. But I do sympathize. I don't think there's been a single time I've asked for more responsibility throughout my whole career, yet here I am."

"Well, I don't think I'd go quite that far," Kaden said, chuckling. "I once commanded an entire battlegroup of heavy warships. I would not refuse such a command if it was offered to me again. But this… their need and vulnerability, their unquestioning trust. It is not a comfortable feeling."

Vanessa listened, suddenly uncomfortable herself. She had thought that their time together in quarantine was a major breakthrough, but she should have known that it could never be that simple. She really had resolved to extend Kaden her trust, as she was trying to do with the admiral, but there were still times like this, when his expressions, his body language, the things he said, reminded her so much of Khyron, and the thought made her feel sick. She turned to their security detail, lingering just a few steps away.

"Sergeant, the colonel and I need to discuss a few matters of strategy. Privately." Kaden gave the man a shallow nod, and he moved a short distance back. Vanessa shook her head, trying to clear it.

"The REF are ultimately defenders, not conquerors, Kaden. Our mission is so much more than finding the Masters and defeating any opposition in our path. I think we'll see more situations like the one we're facing now than we will the straight-forward battles you're used to. That's why I was troubled when we talked before, and why a pledge of loyalty, however sincere, can't be enough on its own. To swear yourself to a leader or a cause that doesn't align with your most deeply held beliefs… eventually it will twist a person. Or break them."

Kaden folded his arms. "You judge me rather harshly."

"I'm not passing judgment on you. My view of you is biased, and we both know it. You're a good officer. Smart, brave, and ambitious. But then, he was all of those things too."

Kaden gave her a winning smile, his tone flippant. "And what do you think I am, Captain? Am I a conqueror, or a defender?"

He could not quite conceal the undercurrent of bitterness in his voice, that same bitterness that had always presaged Khyron's rages. She turned and faced Kaden straight-on, looking up into his eyes, and her throat tightened. The green undersuit and gray body armor he wore were not so different from Zentraedi battle garb. His thick fall of pale blue hair ruffled lightly in the bay's air currents. He stood waiting for her next words, and there it was, that arrogant stance, the sardonic tilt of his head. It could have been Khyron standing there with his affable smile, about to board his officer's pod and go into battle. The man who took almost everything from her. A familiar heat built in Vanessa, the rush of her blood loud in her ears. Her cybernetic hand clenched in a fist, so tight that she knew that if she downloaded the system logs, she would see a performance red-line. The urge to action was overwhelming. She dragged in a breath, and moved into his space. Raised her hand. Fearless Kaden flinched, but did not back away or try to stop her. And then her flesh and blood hand came to rest on the side of his neck. The composite armor of his backplate was cold and smooth under her fingers, but her thumb brushed the underside of his jaw, and she could feel the rapid beat of his pulse through the tough but thin collar of his undersuit. She held his surprised gaze, standing so close now that she could feel his breath on her eyelashes.

"I want you to tell me, Kaden," she said softly. "What are you? A conqueror, or a defender?"

He swallowed, and Vanessa saw a bead of sweat form on his forehead. How much human contact had he experienced? Yes, she'd once had to ride in his lap, but that had been an emergency, and he clearly enjoyed the upper hand at that moment. But like many Zentraedi, Kaden usually held himself apart from physical contact. Vanessa remembered the first time she danced with poor Bron. When she grabbed his hand and placed it on her hip, he had almost hyperventilated. What did her touch mean to this man who had no parents or family, who had never been nestled in the arms of a loving caregiver as a child?

"Why-" his voice rasped, and he cleared his throat. "Why are you touching me?"

"To defy your expectations. And my own," she murmured. She knew she had shaken him, because he hadn't thought to tease her. "Answer the question."

"I've been a conqueror all of my life."

"I know. Because you were created to be one. Like he - like Khyron was." Bold as she was acting, she was no less shaken than Kaden. Her hand began to tremble, and she pulled it back, holding her fist against her heart. "Are you one and the same?"

"Do you even need to ask -"

"I want to hear you say it. I want to know that you believe it."

Kaden turned his head away and shut his eyes. For a long time, he was silent. He opened his mouth, and still no words came. Then he turned back and locked eyes with Vanessa. "I'm not Khyron."

Vanessa nodded slowly. "You are not. But can you be more than he was? More than the conqueror. The Backstabber? The Destroyer?"

"I find joy in battle. In a victory, artfully won. I am not ashamed."

"I don't want you to be. But are you willing to commit yourself to something greater?" She gestured toward the refugees in the bay. "Will you fight for them, not because they are Zentraedi, or fellow warriors, but simply because they are vulnerable, and need your help and protection?"

Kaden looked over at Atalal, who was openly staring at them. "I will try."

"Then I will try to never again see Khyron Kravshera when I look at your face, or hear his voice when you speak. I will accept your loyalty, as the loyalty of someone who holds dear the same things that I do."

"So what are you going to do about the Zentraedi?" May asked, taking a sip from a foil pouch of electrolyte-replacing fluids while she rested on a nearby bench. Vanessa planned to wait for Penelope to take her best swing before answering May. She was distracted this morning, and the young ensign standing across from her on the combat training mat, despite being intimidated by her two superiors, was too aggressive to dismiss as a threat. She thought again of the dazed look on Kaden's face when she touched him, and her cheeks colored, hopefully unnoticeably under the flush of her exertions and the sheen of sweat on her skin. What was I thinking, pulling that stunt with Kaden? In front of all of those Marines and Zentraedi? But she knew she had to do it. Both of them haunted by Khyron's ghost in different ways, they had to break free. It was another step forward. She was no longer naive enough to believe this was the end of it.

And with that thought, of course, Penelope chose her moment to strike. The slightly taller woman, dressed in standard PT clothing, red protective headgear, and padded red gloves, advanced a step, swinging a fist at Vanessa in near perfect time with her movement. Vanessa still managed to duck the blow, but just a little late, and her head was rocked back by a glancing hit. She quickly recovered, staying low, then shifted, and before Penelope understood what was happening, she had a foot planted between the woman's own feet, and a solid hold on her striking arm. Penelope took a short tumble through the air, and landed on her back, expelling her breath in a huff.

"Much better, Penny," Vanessa praised her, once her subordinate's eyes had uncrossed. "Your speed and form are improving every session."

"You know I hate that nickname, Captain," Penelope said between panting breaths. Vanessa raised an eyebrow, and the ensign quickly moderated her tone. "But, I suppose it's ok if it's you using it." She took Vanessa's offered hand and stood up. "I almost had you, that time."

"You did. I'm not focused today. Too many distractions," she said pointedly, looking at May who held up her hands in surrender.

"Sorry! It's just I never expected the situation with the Tiresians and Zentraedi to get so complicated."

Vanessa stripped off her blue gloves and headgear. "Well why don't you take a turn with Ensign Aster, and I'll tell you more?"

"Uh, uh. You know I've never been as good at this hand-to-hand stuff as you. You've taught her too many tricks. I'm not going to explain another black eye to Jose."

Penelope smirked triumphantly, and Vanessa decided to give in. "Fine. Take one more run around the track, and you can be finished for today, Ensign. Meet us at 0600 tomorrow, like usual."

"Aye, Captain! Thank you Captain!" The young woman saluted, and departed with a spring in her step.

"She's definitely getting better," May noted. "Still a pain."

"We can't change who she is, just try to make her a better team member."

"Well, maybe it's working. Malac asked her if she wanted to go get coffee with the rest of the bridge crew after their shift ended yesterday, and she didn't bite his head off. Now, what about the Zentraedi?"

Vanessa dropped her protective gear in a cart to be cleaned, and joined May on the bench. She drank long from the fluid pouch May passed to her, and then held it to her forehead, relishing the feeling of the cool foil, dripping with condensation, against her skin.

"It's complicated."

"The kids, you mean?"

"If it was just the infants and Zentraedi mothers, it'd be easy. I'd move the whole group of them off the ship. I could tell the Tiresians it was for security, and they wouldn't even know about the children."

"Except…"

"Except it's not just the Zentraedi. Some of the mixed couples are still in contact. Still in relationships. Some of the infants are in the Children's Creche, and their Tiresian mothers haven't admitted who the fathers are. Tiresian culture doesn't require that they do so, either, and with Saris managing the genetic testing and child care, no one is going to find out, whatever their suspicions. And then, some Tiresian men are still finding pretexts to visit their lovers and children in the Zentraedi bay. Some are willing to be separated, and some aren't. If any Tiresian leaves with their child, the whole story is going to come out, endangering the ones who want to stay behind - and implicating Saris too. I can't think of a way out that doesn't involve admitting the truth to the Tiresians and convincing them to accept it all."

"Which is-"

Vanessa sighed. "Highly unlikely, considering what Saris told me about the leadership. Somebody is going to be left unhappy no matter what we do, and not just the bigots, who can go hang as far as I care."

"What are you going to do?"

"Nothing, until I've talked it over more with Admiral Mbande. But I'm probably going to have to plead their case directly to the Tiresians, and hope we have enough leverage to get them to give in and accept the situation. I promised the families I would help them, and I'm not backing down."

"Who knew we'd end up dealing with something as messy as this?"

Vanessa drained the rest of her drink pouch and crumpled it. "We should have expected it. We saw how the collision of cultures played out on Earth since the armistice. Why should it have been any different on a ship crammed full of refugees for years? Nothing has been straightforward about this mission."

"Which reminds me, is anything being done about the incident at Omha?"

"We're not doing anything ourselves, but a reconnaissance squadron is being assembled at Space Station Liberty to investigate the Tiresians' statements."

"Are we in over our heads? All these planets- not just suffering from war or shortages, but annihilated. It's worse than Earth. And there's someone or something out there powerful enough to destroy the very same fleet that wiped out this star system?"

Vanessa looked at May sidelong. "Now who's doubting the mission? Weren't you the one who reminded me we needed to be out in deep space no matter what."

May shrugged sheepishly. "I did, but are we really equipped to deal with this level of danger? I'd feel a lot better if the SDF-3 were at our back."

"Headquarters will have to decide on the acceptable amount of risk. And the SDF-3 just isn't ready yet. They practically had to rip the thing apart and put it back together piece by piece after the Manhattan Crisis."

"Ugh, don't remind me. That investigation went on forever. I thought I'd never escape from that desk."

"Well if we hadn't caught Doctor Allenby's sabotage, Doctor Lang claims the SDF-3 would have been stuck in fold space for five years when it launched. Then we'd be no better off."

"I get it, I get it," May groused. "But my point stands. We've run into plenty of dangers already. What do we do if we encounter something that's really too big for us to handle?"

"Look, I'll make a point of mentioning the elevated threat level in my next report, and hopefully-"

As if May had been tempting fate, the compartment's lighting went red and an alert sounded. Vanessa's skin prickled at the feeling of deja vu as Commander Liem made the announcement.

"General Quarters, General Quarters! All hands to your battle stations! Set material condition Zebra throughout the ship! Reason for General Quarters: Defold reaction detected inside fleet perimeter!"

"Again? I can't believe it!" May exclaimed. "Is every refugee in the sector going to drop into our laps?"

Vanessa shook her head grimly. An entirely depopulated system, and no one but the REF knows we're here. "We can't hope to be that lucky. Let's go, May!"

Vanessa and May burst into the bridge, out of breath, and still wearing their sweaty training outfits. Ensign Aster had beaten them there, not stopping to change either. Lt. Commander Liem nodded to his two superiors and stood aside as they moved to the central positions.

"Just like before, no positive ID, although we're closest to the contact this time. No transmissions. Ensign Garo is still trying. Lieutenant Abargil is bringing the air group to ready status. The admiral has ordered us to investigate cautiously while she assembles the task force. Ensign Sertos is-"

"Getting this clumsy tub into position, Captain!" Reda interrupted from the helm, unable to contain herself. Weeks of idle orbiting and pre-programmed patrols had left the younger Zentraedi officer sullen and withdrawn. Now, she looked over her shoulder at Vanessa, eyes bright, her pink pigtails bobbing with her quick, jerky movements. Vanessa nodded to her.

"Conn, steer course-"

"One-four-five by four-seven!" Reda interrupted again. "I'm bringing us to one half full thrust! From that position we can maneuver to engage, or withdraw as needed. I'll keep us steady so the veritechs can have a smooth launch."

"That- will be acceptable, Miss Sertos. Proceed." After the Jeanne d'Arc's first battle, Vanessa had learned to trust Reda's instincts and experience. "Sensors, what do we have?"

"Very unstable energy emissions, Captain! The contact seems to be adrift. The recon team is starting its flyby and I'm magnifying the image on the main screen." The screen activated, and Penelope's hand flew to her mouth. "O Thee mou!" she exclaimed, lapsing into her native Greek.

A chorus of oaths and gasps issued from the bridge crew at the sight that greeted them. Measuring more than two hundred meters from stem to stern, the ship's vertical profile was flat, with a sharply tapered prow like a narrow wedge. Behind it, the main hull flared out to accommodate the massive quad thrusters, the circular nozzles arranged in a single line. Distinctive diagonal fins stood out to either side of the squat bridge tower. The hull was dotted with dual beam turrets, point defense lasers, and rows of launch ports for anti-warship missiles. The armored hull was a cold, dark blue, with a few flashes of white paneling breaking up its outline. But that hull was broken and blistered. From the position of the recon veritechs, Vanessa could see that only one of the main drive thrusters was lit, guttering weakly with a pale blue light that was washed out by plumes of hellish fire boiling out of more than a dozen hull breaches, each big enough to swallow a Stargoose class shuttle. The ship listed, slowly rotating in the empty void of space, displaying the full horror of the damage that it had suffered.

Next to Vanessa, Penelope regained control of herself. "The contact is confirmed to be an REF Battle class cruiser." She paused and checked her instruments. "Getting a weak IFF signal. Cruiser is the UES Gettysburg. Task Force Five."

"Isn't that… that's Straza's task force, isn't it?" May asked.

"Yes," Vanessa said, unable to tear her eye from the screen. "It is."

Next chapter… Line of Battle, assembly, and separations…