United Xeno Coalition

  88th Year of the 350th Millennium

  The interior of the shuttle was exactly what a transport shuttle of the UXC Navy should be. Spartan, light, fully functional.

  Captain 1st Rank Regina LaCrox sat on the passenger bench, staring at the covered viewport.

  Her ship, the Serpent's Nest, was posted outside of the system, ordered to hold position.

  It was all very odd.

  Why had she been pulled from patrol?

  Why had an entire Enclave-Class Battleship been rerouted to a podunk system in the ass crack of the Coalition?

  The Master Crewman across from her had no answers.

  At least none he was able to give.

  "I've been ordered to remain silent, Sir," he had said.

  When asked who had ordered the silence, she had simply received "The Admiral."

  There were over eleven hundred Admirals in the UXC Navy.

  Way to narrow it down.

  So she remained silent.

  Finally, she felt the shuttle slow and land in a hangar bay.

  The Master Crewman stood, waving her to follow.

  "This way, Sir," he said.

  Regina stood, following him to the landing ramp. Upon descending, she found herself in a hangar that was completely empty save for a young human Junior Lieutenant who stood at attention.

  "Welcome to Herman Station, Sir," she said.

  Regina nodded.

  "As you were," she ordered. "I'm assuming you can't tell me what is going on either."

  "No, Sir," the Lieutenant replied. "Please follow me."

  And with that, Regina was following a Junior Lieutenant through a dark and empty station.

  The Junior Lieutenant led her, finally, to a set of double doors.

  She stopped, stood at attention, gave a simple "Sir," and left.

  Regina decided to remain silent.

  She also decided she was tired of the bullshit.

  Deciding to risk her career, she didn't knock, just entered.

  The office was as dark and empty as the rest of the station, minus the desk, lamp, and Admiral standing at a viewport which was, unsurprisingly, covered.

  "Nice to know there are still officers with balls," he said, turning. "You're going to need them."

  He was older, early fifties, of Hispanic Earth origins.

  Black, graying hair, intense brown eyes.

  Regina stood as straight as she could.

  Fucking hell.

  "The Admiral" had been right.

  Emphasis on "The."

  Admiral Hector Hernandez, Admiral of the 225th.

  He had a reputation as long as her career.

  Border Worlds vet.

  Repeated defenses against Imperial probes.

  Successful launches into Hegemony territory.

  He was favored to succeed Chancellor of War, Nero Manus, and had personally been groomed by the legend.

  "Captain 1st Rank LaCrox reporting as ordered, Sir," she said, bringing two fingers to the center of her chest, then to the edge of her right eyebrow.

  "At ease," he ordered. "And I do mean at ease."

  He motioned to the chair in front of his desk.

  "Sit down, relax, and talk to me like we are people."

  She stood for an extra second, then did as ordered, trying her best to "relax."

  He sat in his chair, his movements controlled and at ease.

  He looked to her, then smiled.

  "You have quite the reputation," he said.

  "Thank you, Sir," she responded.

  He waved his hand.

  "I'm serious. This matter is...radioactive. Drop the formality."

  Regina was at a loss, but managed to lean back.

  "What can I do for you?" she asked.

  "You come highly recommended," he began. "Your work during Operation Hellfire caused quite a few eyebrows to raise."

  Her lip twitched.

  She remembered the feel of guts on her hands as she tried to keep a Crewman alive.

  Could feel the blood as her X.O., a man she shouldn’t have loved, lost his head in front of her.

  "I do try to impress,” she responded.

  “You used your ship as a shield to block incoming craft from boarding their own station hangar,” Hector continued. “Thus saving the lives of hundreds of RECON and Marines. Thousands of civilians.”

  She could smell the smoke as her bridge fell apart.

  Hear the screams of alarms as shields fell.

  The lurch of the escape pod.

  “My oath is to the People,” she said. “Any other officer would have done the same.”

  “Doubt it,” the Admiral countered. “Most wouldn’t have stayed till their ship was falling apart.”

  She remembered staring at the survivors. The men and women now stranded on a hostile world because of her decision.

  “That decision cost the lives of ninety-two hundred people,” she replied softly.

  “You’ve shown great heroism and ability to maintain command under extreme stress,” Hector said.

  She remembered almost giving up, holding the pistol to her head, when the world was closing in with the Horrors.

  “Thank you, Sir,” she whispered.

  "I'll cut to the chase," he said. "You've been chosen to be the first Captain for an expedition into the Sagittarius Arm."

  She blinked.

  "First?"

  He reached under the desk, pressing a button. The cover on the viewport began to rise.

  "First," he repeated. "You are to launch a ten-thousand-year, multigenerational, exploration mission."

  "Ten thousand...Sir!" she stood. "There is no ship in the entire Coalition that could-"

  She cut herself off as she looked out the viewport.

  Her eyes widened, her mouth opening.

  "Yes," the Admiral said. "There is."

  The beast sitting outside the viewport had to be four hundred kilometers long, hundreds wide, and hundreds tall. Sixteen tubes arched over the top and under the bottom while a massive dome sat in the center.

  Over a hundred gravity anchors and massive sublights. She couldn't even imagine how many maneuvering thrusters.

  "This, Captain, is the Northumbria. The largest ship ever built by the United Xeno Coalition."

  She had no words.

  Which was fine, because Admiral Hector had plenty.

  "A launch population of one point two million people. It is able to support a population of up to nineteen million people and will be escorted by four Nova-Class Cruisers. You will lead these people into the unknown to gather intel, make contact with new cultures, and identify potential threats."

  Regina fell back into her chair.

  "I'm...I'm guessing I can't say no."

  "Of course you can," he replied. "But I would prefer if you didn't."

  Regina was quiet for several minutes while Hector waited patiently.

  Finally, she looked to him.

  "When you say lead..."

  "I mean all military forces on site will be under your command," he clarified. "There will be a significant civilian population, but they will be managed by Andrew Anderson."

  She coughed.

  "The Andrew Anderson?" she asked. "As in, the richest man in the Coalition?"

  "The same," Hector replied.

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  "He is joining us? Into gods know what?"

  "He is," Hector said. "And I expect you to work with him."

  More silence.

  Finally, her eyes hardened.

  "One condition," she demanded.

  "Name it," he replied without hesitation.

  "I choose my own command team."

  He smiled.

  "Wouldn't have it any other way.”

  ***

  Saying farewell to her crew was harder than she thought.

  Many of them had been with her during Operation Hellfire.

  Survived their ship crashing.

  Survived the Horrors marching upon them by the thousands.

  She trusted them.

  But she couldn't ask them to join her.

  Not for this.

  She really only asked her X.O., Lieutenant Commander Tania Parker.

  The twenty-year-old officer had only been sixteen during Hellfire. Enlisted Crewman fresh from the Academy. She had never…quite moved on from the losses.

  The second member of her command team wouldn't stay behind even if she ordered him to.

  And how could she force a person to stay when he was nine feet tall and nine hundred pounds?

  She had already tried to leave Chief Mate Teekaan behind on her first command, but he had shown up aboard the Chimera regardless.

  She had left him behind when he forced her into the last functioning escape pod as the Chimera screamed toward the planet's surface.

  And he had shown up at their bunker regardless.

  So if she ordered him to stay behind, he would probably just come through an airlock a hundred light years out.

  Oomaraan were stubborn, and he was considered a stubborn Oomaraan.

  But saying farewell was nothing compared to the difficulty of her current task: being professional and respectful to a civilian duodecillionaire.

  Sitting in the middle of a long, black metal table, the man named Andrew Anderson sat across from her.

  He wore a gray suit and tie, his hair graying slightly but stubbornly holding on to its brown roots while his eyes were an age-faded blue.

  And his smile was infuriatingly kind.

  "It is an absolute honor to meet with you, Captain," he said, his voice that of a young grandfather. "This is..."

  He chuckled.

  "Probably the most amazing thing I've ever pulled off."

  She resisted snorting.

  "As long as you understand the lives involved in making it happen," she replied. "Your little Expedition is uprooting over a million people."

  He held up a finger, and she resisted breaking it.

  "I am uprooting no one," he said. "I asked for civilian volunteers."

  He lowered his hand.

  "It was Admiral Hernandez who insisted on a military presence."

  Regina's lip twitched.

  "So how do you see this working?" she asked.

  He leaned back, a knowing half smile on his face.

  "You run all military matters," he said. "I run all civilian matters."

  "That's a lot of overlap," she pointed out. "It is a multi-generational ship with over a million military and civilian personnel. Both sides are going to clash."

  "Well," he answered, his tone so reasonable she didn't know if she hated him or loved him. "In cases where those clashes happen, we handle it together. As a team."

  She scoffed.

  "Team?" she asked. "And if we fundamentally disagree? If either of us refuses to budge?"

  For the first time, the mask dropped, his expression turning serious.

  "Captain," he said, steady. "You will find me movable, rational, and willing to listen to voices other than my own."

  She let out a laugh.

  Short. Sharp.

  "Please," she said. "You have more money than most planets. You don't generate that kind of wealth without being a parasite. You don't-"

  She stopped.

  Andrew looked...genuinely hurt.

  Hurt.

  Not insulted, not indignant, not "How dare you call out the truth."

  Hurt.

  "I see," he said softly. "So that's what this is. You see wealth and you think exploitation."

  He stood, hands on the table.

  "My money comes from investments made thousands of generations ago."

  His eyes hardened.

  "And I only kept twenty percent of it. I lobbied the Senate to allow the reformations of Grand Chancellor Xalander came up with. I helped fund his anti-poverty campaign AND his evacuation of the Border Worlds, and STILL fund them even today. A Senatorial Guard tried to assassinate me for helping him!”

  Regina frowned.

  "Congratulations. You want a pat on the back?"

  He straightened.

  "I want your fucking trust and cooperation so this Expedition accomplishes my goals."

  Regina stood as well.

  "And what goals could you POSSIBLY have to send a million people into the unknown?"

  "Progress!" he shouted.

  "Progress?" Regina fired back. "Nice vague goal isn't it? And what-"

  "Listen to me!" he said, sharp, demanding, almost pleading.

  To her own amazement, she closed her mouth.

  "For thousands of years, the Coalition has been stagnant," he said, his tone soft. "So focused on the Hegemony and the Empire. Valid and dangerous threats true. But we have forgotten our purpose! What our goals were three hundred thirty thousand years ago, when we signed the Orion Constitution."

  He sat back down, hands and arms relaxed.

  "Exploration, discovery-"

  "Prosperity," Regina finished, her tone softer.

  She sat back down, facing him.

  "You dropped enough credits to fund an entire campaign into enemy territory, and you expect me to believe you think we are going to somehow find something that will further the Coalition?"

  He shook his head.

  "No," he replied. She was about to stand again, call him out, force him to admit she was right about him.

  But then he finished in a tone so sincere her entire body deflated.

  "I just hope we do."

  Regina was silent for a long, long moment.

  Finally, she stood.

  "I can work with you."

  ***

  The Northumbria, like all things built by Krak'tal Industries, was ugly as hell.

  Inside and out.

  The exterior, while elegant from a distance, was blocky, sharp, and gross up close.

  Kind of like the Cormians who built it.

  Regina stepped onto the bridge with her X.O.

  Both were in full uniform.

  Black top and pants, red naval trimming, beret positioned correctly.

  Regina looked like authority.

  Dark skin, hair tied into braids, expression firm.

  Lieutenant Commander Tania was still struggling with her youth.

  Black hair in a bun, porcelain white skin, and only twenty years old.

  "Captain on the bridge!" someone shouted.

  "As you were," Regina ordered immediately.

  Both women stood at the entrance, the bridge crew slowly returning to their tasks.

  "The bridge is..." Tania began. "Nice."

  "It looks like shit," Regina corrected.

  Every metal plate was a muted brown. Even the console lights looked sick.

  The bridge crew pretended not to notice, each going over their final checks before launch.

  Regina and Tania moved to, what could charitably be called chairs, that sat just behind the pilot's console.

  And from those seats, which Regina immediately hated, she saw the pure inefficiency of the bridge.

  The pilot sat dead center, while the navigator was behind her.

  Those two stations needed constant communication.

  Who the hell thought that placement would fly?

  Shields and weapons consoles that normally would sit behind her instead flanked the pilot, ensuring they would have a wonderful light show to be distracted by in the heat of battle.

  Only the Information Operations Console was where it should be.

  Directly behind her seat, in easy communication distance.

  Unfortunately, the chair was so gods damned uncomfortable she would probably never sit in it.

  Regina's earpiece chimed, which she quickly answered.

  "Go, Teekaan."

  Her entire skeleton vibrated under the bass that spoke.

  "All positions ready, Captain," the ancient Oomaraan reported. "We are ready for launch."

  Regina looked to Tania and nodded.

  The younger woman, with authority that betrayed her enlisted origins, strode up to the pilot's console.

  "Master Mate," she ordered, her voice sharp.

  "Yes, Lieutenant," the Unda male responded, crisp and clean.

  "Take us out," Tania ordered.

  The Unda didn't respond, simply getting to work.

  "Ten!" Tania ordered, looking to the mechanoid Nexus occupying the navigation console.

  "Yes, Lieutenant Commander Tania Parker," the robotic voice answered.

  "Set an Ether Space Course for the Eonta System!"

  "Yes, Sir," Ten replied.

  Regina subtly inhaled. Eonta was right at the edge of Coalition and Hegemony Space. With Ether Currents operating as they do, there was a chance they would have to jump directly into Hegemony Territory for better positioning.

  It was either that, or wait six months for better Ether Current Flow elsewhere.

  "Free of docking rings!" The Unda pilot called out.

  "Course set, Captain 1st Rank Regina LaCrox," Ten reported.

  Regina stood, moving to Tania's side.

  "On your order, Captain," Tania said softly.

  Regina took a deep breath, quiet for several moments.

  This was it.

  She had this.

  "Jump," she ordered.

  ***

  The public watched the takeoff.

  It was broadcast across every news station, every regular programming paused for this momentous occasion.

  Over a million people sent into the unknown, never to be seen again, but paving the way for the future.

  Some saw it as a chance for the Coalition to finally continue its mission.

  Some saw it as a waste of taxpayers' money.

  And some even denied its existence, claiming it was just propaganda.

  The only person to witness the launch in person was Admiral Hernandez, standing at his viewport on an all but empty station.

  Behind him stood the Junior Lieutenant and Master Crewman who had escorted Regina.

  No longer in naval red-trimmed uniform.

  Now completely black.

  Rank insignia’s removed.

  “Get back to your Cell Lead,” he ordered. “We have a lot of work to do.”

  They snapped to attention, about faced, and left his office.

  As the Northumbria coated itself in its yellow anti-mass field, Hector took a sip of whiskey.

  It had been far too difficult to launch this, but he had done it.

  Convincing a man as sharp as Anderson that this was actually his idea was a master class in diplomacy.

  Convincing the Cormians to build it so there were no direct ties to the military was even more difficult.

  He couldn’t see it, but he felt the quantum tether streak out towards the star.

  The blue FTL drive lit up, the Northumbria launching forward, slinging around the star and vanishing as a green streak of ambition.

  Nodding, he turned back to his desk.

  Upon it lay a folder.

  He sat, lifting the folder and opening it.

  "Obsidian Field Report," it read.

  "Sagittarius exploration deep probe.

  Threat recognized: The Night Lords and the Lazarous Ichor."

  He read it one last time, committing it to memory.

  Praying to gods he didn't believe in that he hadn't just killed over a million people for no reason.

  He pressed the button to close the viewport, and tossed the folder into his incinerator."

  Godspeed."