Interstellar Space
Distance to Rigel—10 light-years
Present day
Six hours ago, Aaron had boarded the sleek, privately registered high-speed courier to Rigel. Lieutenant Delaine piloted the high-speed courier and wasn’t in Fleet uniform now. She wore a tight grey utility top and a dark loose fitting utility slacks. He pondered his status. He was now a dishonorably discharged former United Fleet officer. Would that be unofficially officially? Or officially unofficially. Trying to describe it was tongue twisting.
The first three hours he slept and soon he would reconnect with Lee and Vee. The XO was his center of gravity, a pillar of strength. Lee reminded him of the boldness of youth. Miroslav reminded him of a talented wayward teen in need of guidance.
The fourth hour he spent reading some of his favorite twenty-first century Earth fiction. His personnel device was loaded with material from that century. He and Lee shared a common obsession with that particular era. Their frequent use of ancient Earth slang was a constant source of annoyance to the other senior bridge crew of his former Command.
The fifth hour he studied everything he could about the separatists, the Empire, and rehashed some of the Supreme Commander’s words in his head. As we speak both sides have dispatched large battle groups to the border. The last major fleet engagement happened almost seventy years ago. Since then the USS and the Empire minded their own affairs and neither side engaged in any action which threatened the peace treaty. He shuddered to think of the devastation another conflict would bring.
Since then the advancements in technology would bring the belligerents into contact with each other quicker and more often. The Empire was fifty days away from the Core United worlds at high warp now. And ships of the line were nearly five times as fast in warp as their counterparts seventy years ago. When his thoughts continued in an endless cycle, pondering the variables, he decided to force it from his mind.
The final hour he decided to test Lieutenant Delaine, just trying to get any kind of reaction out of her. She must have a breaking point. Plus, his mind was far away thinking about the Trident, so hours for him would seem like minutes. If he was right the effect of him staring at her, would cause time for her to slow to a crawl.
And he was right.
“Stop staring,” she said. It sounded more like a warning than a command.
The sudden sound of her voice jarred him. “It must be a spy thing,” he said.
She gave him a clueless look.
“I mean, just because you’re a spy doesn’t mean you can’t talk to me does it?”
“No, Commander, it does not. But I’m piloting the ship, I am exhausted and I am processing a million different things inside my head.”
She did look tired. Maybe it really didn’t have anything to do with him.
“Where do you hail from, Lieutenant?”
“If you intend the emphasis on my rank to imply that I am required to answer you, I am not. A Fleet officer outside of United Star Systems Intelligence has no authority in any capacity over an Intel officer. I am not United Star Systems Bureau of Intelligence. I am United Star Systems Intelligence. That makes me a civilian.”
Odd. Since when did USSI spies serve as aides for the Supreme Commander of the Fleet? He filed the information away for later. Instead, he said:
“Okay, you spoke and words came out of your mouth, and I still don’t know where you’re from.”
He could hear her teeth grinding. By now, she must know he would not give up. And they had two days until they reached Rigel. He would make it the longest two days of her United Star Systems Intelligence career. He would make her wish—
“I was born on Nova Prime. My parents fled soon after the Imperial annexation,” she said. “Would you mind taking over here? I wish to rest for a while. I’m weary.”
Nova Prime was located along the former border where the USSF fought the Empire to a stalemate, with both fleets smashing against each other for months. Not somewhere anyone wanted to be during that period of the war. Nova bore the brunt of the devastation during those final months. “Very well, Lieutenant. Have a good rest.”
Lee and Alvarez were probably having a lot more fun.
****
Two former shipmates hurried down an alley not large enough to fit them side by side.
“Vee, I’m telling you we’re being followed,” Lee said, holding their equipment bag tighter. It carried untraceable personnel devices and other non-USSF issued equipment, part of the hard won package from Luyten.
Alvarez didn’t miss a step. “Let’s just maintain our pace, until we’re certain.”
At least the stubborn senior officer didn’t look back. That would have been a big mistake.
Since completing their objective in Luyten, they’d arrived on Rigel ahead of schedule. Lee wasn’t accustomed to waiting or peeping around corners, he wasn’t a spy. He’d argued that with the Supreme Commander in front of the XO. But the old man simply said—“That’s why we want you, that and your other skill set. Professional spies have certain characteristics, which stand out. No one will give amateurs a second glance”. Okay, he had to admit the idea was clever, or the SC was just superb at spinning things.
But that didn’t mean he had to like it.
This planet was a tech-2 rated world. The governing body chose to appeal to a particular group of United citizens and attract them as settlers. Not everyone in the United Star Systems desired life on the most advanced tech-5 worlds. Some citizens chose tech-1 worlds, with infrastructure similar to old nineteenth century Western North-American townships. A tech-2 world appealed to anyone who enjoyed farming the land, living in simple but elegant wooden structures, riding horses and just being free and outdoors. These people were capable of doing many different things, but they chose this way of living because they loved it.
A tech-3 world featured infrastructure and an economy similar to a major city during middle twenty first century Earth. People moved about in air-cars, ground cars, and many sectors revolved around labor in exchange for wages. There wasn’t much unemployment throughout the United Systems because you could find work on any planet. Despite this, no matter what century it was, there always seemed to be people who didn’t like to work. They preferred to take by force what others earned and some among them enjoyed doing it. And then there were the other basket cases—who just didn’t like to do anything constructive.
A tech-5 world was life at warp speed. Prominent corporations employed the majority of the work force on these advanced worlds. From brilliant research and design technicians, to miracle-working engineers. Researching everything from quantum mechanics to wormhole stabilization theory. These worlds contained the largest single adult demographic throughout the United Systems. It was all work and no play. Their work was their life.
And a luxurious life it was. Only citizens earning tech-5 level salaries could afford the pricey tourist-liners to see other worlds. They owned estates across the sector and a few employed their own small work force and owned small but elegant civilian warp-capable star-liners with the personal security to keep it all safe.
Tech-5 worlds boasted the tightest security. Everything from energy dampening fields to AI android security. There was no crime—organized or otherwise—unless you factored in the underhanded dealings of the corporations themselves. An offender might face deportation, depending on the seriousness of the offence. And no other tech-5 world accepted deportees, unless you were uniquely brilliant, which would have stayed the deportation sentence in the first place. No . . . once you were deported from a tech-5 world, there was no going back. Many became privateers, and some turned to outright piracy out of desperation.