She wanted to steal her brother's gift.
She lowered herself to the floor and looked at her own present. It was probably the more expensive of the two. Tiny people walked through a tiny plastic house, going through their tiny lives. One of them stood over the plastic oven, pretending to prepare a meal. She shook the little house, watched the people fall down, get back up, and immediately go back to what they were doing. One of them straightened a chair that had been knocked aside.
It was cool, sure. But she was getting a little old for such things. And she had to watch it all through clear plastic. Shaking their stupid house was the closest she got to actually interacting with the tiny people.
She looked again at her brother's gift. Another plastic model for him to assemble, as she could've guessed before he even opened it. But this one wasn't one of those sleek cars, or needle-shaped aerial transports. The picture on the box showed ungainly struts, turrets seeming to burst through holes in sheet metal, communications equipment sticking far out into the open. Only the bottom of the thing appeared sleek and smooth, where it would have to withstand heat and friction. The text on the box read "Early Two-Person Scout."
It was a starship. It was the ugliest thing she had ever seen. And she wanted to dig through her brother's things until she found his model glue and put it together before he got to it.
She sighed and tipped her toy house back and forth, watching the tiny people inside flail around trying to keep their balance. They would tell her she wasn't old enough for the model glue and take it away. She set the house on the floor and leaned back, gazing through the bedroom window.
Stars. Just out of reach.
"Congratulations, Casey Simmons."
She shook the head instructor's hand, unable to suppress her grin, and let him attach the flight pin to her previously unadorned shipsuit. She accepted her certificate as her class applauded, then returned to her seat.
"Congrats, Case," someone said softly as she sat down. She smiled and nodded her thanks, then stared down at the certificate, taking in the bold words.
Official document. Confederacy of Fringe Worlds. Recognized by Coalition Command. Certified.
Casey Simmons.
Starship pilot.
The rest of the ceremony passed in a blur, and immediately afterward she found herself in the local bar with the rest of her class. People were cheering, hooting, thrusting mugs into the air. She kept pulling out her flight certificate, just to look at it.
She had to endure repeated drunken attempts to get her to go "someplace quiet," and began to wonder if there was an unspoken tradition here that she was failing to take part in. Well, that was fine. Finally she heard a more familiar male voice calling, "Hey, Case!" and she looked up, waving, smiling gratefully.
Ish settled onto the stool next to her, directed a wide grin at her for a moment, then promptly grabbed her mug and drained it. He slammed it back down, wiping his lips on the back of his hand, and resumed his grin. "Oh... sorry," he said after a moment, then inclined his finger toward the bardroid. It slid another mug onto the bar and shot an exact amount of beer into it with mechanical precision. Ish drained this as well.
"How does it feel to be a real pilot?" Case asked when he was finally still for a moment.
"Amazing!" He pounded his fist on the bar, which caused the bardroid to approach uncertainly, then draw back again as he ignored it. "I mean, I just can't... But you! I should be asking you that question! This is like, your dream, right?"
She laughed. "What makes you think that?"
"Oh, come on." He chuckled. "I've seen the way you look at a starship. Doesn't matter what it is. Hell, I almost think you like the ugly ones better. Only reason nobody's taken you home yet is because you're waiting for a drunken cargo hauler to float through the door. Another!" he added, and this time the bardroid provided him with another full mug.
"Oh, stop it. I just want to, you know... pick up some salvage, make some money..."
He snorted. "Girl, if you're not inside a gunship within a month shooting down Outsider fighters, I'll be very disappointed in you." He set his mug down. "That reminds me, you hear about Lowell?"
"Who?"
"Percival Lowell, the ship. It launched a couple hours ago. Heading Rimward. Straight toward the Outsiders."
She shrugged. "Weird. But the unregistereds are out there too. Probably one of them stole it."
"Not a chance. This ship got some kind of full refit before it left. Not just flight-worthy, but somebody attached some serious hardware to that thing. It was on the sensor net and then it was gone. Only thing we've ever seen faster is those Jinu explorer vessels."
The idea gave her an odd cold feeling. "Then it was using phased drive. If that thing really is looking for the Outsiders..."
"Then somebody is going to get us in some serious shit."
"You have violated the terms of occupation. All combat starships are not to enter space. Further instructions to follow."
The words ran through her mind as she raced toward the spaceport. The terse phrases had been repeated on every communicator channel, every 26 seconds, until she finally had to just turn it off.
What the hell did we do? she wanted to scream, but no one had any answers. The only ones who knew were either uncaring hulking masses of tentacles, or whoever was in the Percival Lowell untold lightyears away.
She cursed James Korie. Nobody thought it was a coincidence that the EAOS co-director had seemingly vanished at the very same time the Lowell left Known Space. Just as it was no coincidence that this was all happening just three months after that starship launched, when nothing else had changed.
When she arrived, the spaceport was a confusion of activity.
"Case. Good to see you." Ish was all business.
"You too, Ish." She took in the scene. "So... I guess we're ignoring the Outsiders' proclamation?"
He nodded. "We have to. They're threatening the long-range beacons. If those go, humans and Jinu will be separated. Probably forever. That's a death blow to the Coalition."
She took a deep breath. "Damned if we do, damned if we don't, huh?"
"Exactly. Listen, I'm gonna need you to join the boys heading to the beacon on Mir. We don't have adequate defense there. People seem to think the Outsiders are gonna keep playing by the rules."
"Mir." It was hard to imagine the space station dedicated to peace being threatened, but there it was. "All right. And you're going to Grenwold to defend the other one?"
He shook his head. "No, I've been personally selected to bolster the Jinu's defense on the other side."
She had that cold feeling again. "Ish, if we're too late, if we can't stop them, and you're over there..."
"Then I'll be glad to have known you. Listen, Case." He set a hand on her shoulder, squeezed. "No matter what happens, this isn't going to end today. Just remember that the Outsiders don't observe any rules. Nowhere is gonna be safe. Nowhere."
"Right. Ish--" There was shouting.
Ish glanced up. "No more time. Go, Case. And good luck." He turned and raced toward his ship.
She stood there a moment longer, then went to find her ship on the pad. It was already powered on, armed, charged, and ready for flight. Can't waste any more time, she thought to herself, dropping into the pilot's seat and making ready to launch.
Moments later, a wormhole mouth deposited her in Mir's sector and closed behind her. She examined the starmap. Ish was right, the Outsiders were giving the peaceful station a serious pounding. As she watched, an explosion bloomed in Mir's center, then faded, leaving a gaping hole in the hull.
She moved toward the enemy ships as fast as her ship's drive could take her. If she could take one of them by surprise... but no, the ships were already turning away from Mir, rotating toward the approaching human ships. As if their job was done.
A voice crackled over the local communication channel. "Fuck! Coalition Command says that's it. We have to regroup. We are not to engage at this time. Everyone back to your home ports."
They were too late. The cold feeling was back in full force. Her hands shook as she commanded her ship to turn around, trying to open enough distance between her ship and the nearest Outsider fighter that she could safely open a wormhole.
The stars wheeled in the viewport as the ship turned. Her fingers moved automatically over the control board. Some of those stars would be shining from Jinu space. A good five hundred lightyears. Without the long-range beacons, no wormhole drive could ever make that leap. Ish would've gotten to the other side just in time. Just in time to be cut off from nearly all of humanity.
Her starship hurled itself into a wormhole mouth as it opened, flinging it back toward Chetumal.
It was quiet for about ten weeks. Then the Outsiders began destroying. They referred to it as "negative stimulus," inflicting new horrors on humankind, trying to make them believe on an instinctual level that capitulation was the only option.
She was there, uselessly, as the Outsiders bombed the League shipyards. She was there as the EAOS's experimental research structure went up in a high-energy explosion so bright that it blinded every sensor in the sector, and she had to help her fellow pilots struggle back to a safe dock.
She was there as the remnants of the Coalition tried to prevent the fall of the AEU planet Bikura, as bombs rained down on it from orbit. Bikura fell. The Coalition dissolved.
She was there as a fleet of unregistered vessels swarmed into the sector, and almost fired a shot at them in the confusion, before she realized they were in the process of saving her squadron from an Outsider assault.
When functioning laser turrets were scarce, these unregistered pilots had chainguns. When no one could make neutronium-laced hull plating anymore, the unregistereds had steel plates. When her government raised the question of officially recognizing these former enemies as the Sovereign Mutuality of Disparate Freemen, a new ally, she enthusiastically raised her voice in favor of it.
One night, in bed, just after the Martian Defense had broken and the future of the entire League was in doubt, she rolled toward Corinth. "You awake?"
He mumbled something that seemed vaguely affirmative.
"Do you think this is it?"
He was still for a moment, then turned to face her. "Do I think what is what?"
"You know exactly what I mean. I'm going to get a call to scramble to Old Earth any day now. Maybe any second." She hesitated. "And we're not going to be able to stop them. Just like we've always failed to stop them. And then one entire alliance is gone."
He drew her into his arms, spoke into her hair. "Maybe. But the alliances are separate now, and the Fringe is still strong. And we're getting better. The EAOS unconditionally gave everyone their new plasma minicannons. And there are people working on other things. If we can just hold out long enough for someone to find a defense against their damned superweapon..."
That old feeling of coldness was creeping back. "Yeah... but... I guess that's not what I'm really worried about."
He pulled back a little, looking into her eyes. "Then why don't you tell me what you're worried about?"
She hesitated. "Everyone keeps saying that... that if it gets bad enough, the Mutuality will go away. I mean, they're much safer back where they live, and they've got no reason to keep..."
He stopped her with a kiss. "Listen, Case. We're called Freemen for a reason. If the Mutuality runs home to hole up, well, that's fine for them. But nothing will take me away from you."
She had to grin. "I guess I'll consider that a promise. As long as you're not about to start talking about love."
He chuckled. "Never." He pulled her closer, and she was warmed for a while.
As she expected, she was called to defend Old Earth. Just as with Mir, she arrived and then had to almost immediately make her escape. As she sped away from the planet, a spare screen received a live video feed of bombs falling on its historic cities.
She was not there to defend the Torus as the Outsiders attacked it. No one was. The Torus was already empty, and no one was quite sure where the EAOS had gone. The Outsiders could not do much damage to the alien structure anyway, and withdrew after a time.
Next the Outsiders struck unexpectedly against the Candelarian Navy, the consistent thorn in their side. By that time she was a part of the Chetumal Orbital Defense, and she was called to augment Candelaria's defense. Then she was ordered to disengage, her government unwilling to needlessly risk her increasingly rare and valuable starship. Without the support of the capital and its forces, the famed navy was shattered.
She wept when the Mutuality announced that they had done all they could and would be withdrawing to their hidden space stations and doing their best to simply survive. She wept again when Corinth came back to her that night, as promised, as though nothing had happened, much to his confusion.
She could not be there during the fall of New Earth, because the Outsiders were pressing an attack against Chetumal at the same time. As the Fringe worlds fell, the defense constricted, meshed, became that much harder to defeat. As New Earth fell, Chetumal did not. The Chetumal Orbital Defense maintained a delicate equilibrium, until the Outsiders finally withdrew.
But now they were the last free humans in Known Space. Now the Outsiders had only one target.
The call to scramble came only days later. Her stomach had been in knots ever since they had driven the Outsiders off, knowing this moment would come. Now that it had, she almost felt relieved.
Corinth met her on the landing pad, holding his case of tools. "They've told us to clear out. It's all up to you guys now."
She nodded. "We'll do our best."
"I know you will. Not much choice." He hesitated, seemed to be about to say something else. "Listen, I... uh... I spent some extra time on your chainguns. I told the chief I had to fix a problem with them, but they're really fine. I just wanted to make sure you could, you know, get a little extra something out of them."
She grinned. "I appreciate it, Cor."
"And... uh... oh, the Peashooter is operational this time. It has the last functional Jinu plasma cannon in Known Space, and that's something the Outsiders haven't seen for a while. If we can surprise them with that, we might just manage to drive them off again."
"That's good, Cor."
They stood there for a moment longer.
Finally she spoke. "Okay, what's wrong, Cor?"
"I don't know. I feel like..." He sighed, took a step forward, and drew her into an embrace. "Be careful, all right?"
She returned the embrace. "You're ruining my tough girl image. I'll be fine. A rescue pod hasn't failed in a hundred and fifty years. I'm not planning to buck the trend."
"I know, but... well." He paused for a moment. She realized he was trembling. "I love you, Case."
She smiled. "There's that word. Don't worry, okay? Things are... pretty likely to get hairy down here in a few hours, but we'll have time to get out before... before the bombs drop."
He let her go. "Yeah. And I'll be waiting here for you. Whether you end up landing in a ship or a pod."
She grinned. "Hoping for a ship. You promise?"
He managed a smile. "I told you, I'm not going anywhere without you."
"Good." The scramble alarm was becoming more shrill. "Gotta go." She brushed her lips against his, then ran for her ship.
Once in orbit, she examined her starmap. The Outsiders were definitely inbound... or trying to be. They were occupied with the regular patrol at the moment. She waited for her squadron to get into position.
"All right, let's go and help those guys," she said to her wingmen. "We'll try to keep them engaged over there and away from our planet."
They transmitted acknowledgements and began moving outward. She took a moment to look at her weapon status. Chainguns: 116% of nominal efficiency. She had to smile.
The Peashooter was heading out too, on a slightly different vector. She ordered her squadron to change its position slightly and cover the strange ship. She was hoping its plasma cannon would give the Outsiders a shock. She suspected it was their last hope.
The Outsiders were finishing up with the patrol ships as they approached. She sighed. So much for helping those pilots. One of the Outsider fighters was already seeking a lock on her ship. She jerked aside, aiming her own weapons.
"Break and engage," she ordered. Her squadmates separated, each seeking a target.
She moved her ship through space, fingers moving automatically through long practice. She deftly evaded each attempt to lock on her ship, jerking the little Marauder through space, the ship's artificial gravity keeping her safe from the wild accelerations. Her chainguns spoke repeatedly, swiveling with oiled efficiency to track the Outsider ship, steel pellets raining on the alien ship's hull.
So far, she thought, this is not really much of an invasion.
Her sensors reported a new starship signature. She quickly ordered her ship to scan more thoroughly, then peered at the results.
Alien signature.
Recognized as the ship known to humans as the Zmnyi Mmyaz.
Outsider mothership.
"Holy fuck." She keyed the transmitter. "Turn and burn! Go go go! Fall back to Chetumal!"
The Fringe squadrons turned almost as one, disengaging with their targets, the dozens of Marauders speeding toward the relative safety of orbit. Only the Peashooter stayed behind, bravely hoping to threaten the mothership.
As her ship sped its way through space, she observed the action on the starmap. A brilliant beam of coherent energy suddenly exploded from the Peashooter, impacting against the Outsider mothership's hull.
"Phased destabilizing beam powerup detected," her ship's computer announced.
Shit shit shit.
"Phased destabilizing beam fire detected."
Damn their impossible superweapon.
"Starship Peashooter has been destroyed."
There went their pathetic last hope. Simple as that. She scanned the mothership to see what damage might've been inflicted upon it by the plasma cannon.
No significant damage detected.
Her squadron reached the vicinity of Chetumal and turned to face the Outsiders once more. Now our backs are to the wall, she thought grimly. Her screen was suddenly alive with notifications of newly arriving ships... dozens and dozens of Outsider fighters were spilling out of the mothership, like a disturbed hive. Overwhelming force.
The Outsiders were making a point. "Negative stimulus" indeed.
She leapt into the fray as the fighters approached, pellets flying from her chainguns as fast as they could cycle. She evaded lock from one ship, then another, her weapons not stopping for an instant.
"Obstacle detected," her ship's computer said calmly. Fuck. Outsider fighter in the way. She quickly chose a different direction in which to evade, but not before the fighter targeting her managed to successfully hit her.
Another lock detected. Her fingers danced across the control board.
"Obstacle detected. Obstacle detected."
Outsiders were closing in. Nowhere to go. She swore and shoved the navigation console out of the way, focusing on her weapons. They could have it their way, then. She would go down with her chainguns singing.
Multiple hits came in. She started her ship's repair systems, but they had no hope of keeping up. She braced herself, but kept her fingers moving across her weapons panel, her chainguns never stopping.
She was kicked forward suddenly by an explosion in the rear of the ship. She gasped as an electromagnetic field took her into its grip, almost squeezing the air from her. The invisible force lifted her, flung her backwards as a rescue pod folded around her and sealed.
Another kick, then a gradually dying vibration as the pod weathered the explosion of her ship. Then more acceleration, as her pod started toward the safety of Chetumal.
That was it, then. She couldn't believe any other human ship out there would fare much better. Chetumal would fall. It would be bombed. They would have to go underground now, form a hidden resistance. Wait for another day to strike back.
That was okay. It was almost a relief. She had done her best, and now the die was cast. For a time, the fate of humanity would not depend on her actions. She just had to save herself now.
And Corinth. She was sure he wouldn't move from the vicinity of the landing pad until he saw her pod come down, just as he'd promised. They would have to find some kind of transport away from Chetumal City, to some smaller town that the Outsiders wouldn't bother with. But that was fine. There would be plenty of time. And then they could be together. No more planets falling. No more scramble alerts.
An insistent beeping from her rescue pod's tiny computer drew her attention. The thing only had the most basic sensors, and no controls. She wasn't familiar with the code it was beeping, and had to lean forward, straining against her restraints, to read what it meant.
WEAPON LOCK DETECTED.
That old cold feeling slammed into her. That couldn't mean what it said. Was this their latest "negative stimulus"? She stared up through the rescue pod's tiny porthole. No explosions now, the fighting was over. She caught sight of the Outsider mothership, more massive than some space stations, hovering nearby.
Its turrets were swiveling. Then they came to a stop.
Her rescue pod turned slowly, the massive alien ship drifting out of view.
This is it, then, she thought. Her vision blurred, and she blinked furiously, refocusing on the tiny porthole.
Stars. Just out of reach.
,