21: Intelligence

Academy Hill, Vidako

Imperium Stellarum
September 26, 2847

Cassie waited until they’d all been released from the infirmary and sent back to their dorms to open the video message from her brother. While Charlotte Sixkiller—the cadet who’d shared her recovery room after the operation—seemed nice enough in spite of a rather intimidating name, Cassie didn’t need anyone else listening to what she’d asked her brother to do.

Instead, once she’d changed from the hospital gown into her cadet uniform, Cassie walked to the south end of Academy Hill, tablet tucked under one arm, bandaged head gleaming beneath the twin suns. She ignored more than a few comments from older cadets, all of which included the term ‘mole rat’ in some capacity or other. For the moment, she felt strangely anonymous: without her hair, apparently she looked different enough that a princess imperial wasn’t recognized on sight.

Though a fourth class cadet just out of Hard Burn had, ostensibly, no business heading to the mech hangars unescorted, every security checkpoint blinked green when Cassie approached. She didn’t even have to take out the key card all the cadets had been given on arrival: Lyra took care of that all on her own.

You’re supposed to be resting, Cassie’s new AI companion remarked, as she strode off across the tarmac toward Hangar 417. The last thing we need is you feeling a bit of vertigo, falling over, and cracking open the skull that we both need in one piece.

Cassie scowled. “I’m not going to fall over,” she hissed. It was supposed to be possible to communicate with Lyra silently, just by thinking at her, but she hadn’t quite got the hang of it yet. “I just need someplace private for a little while, that’s all.”

She could actually feel Lyra reach out to interact with the biometric lock on the hangar door—not the big one, through which the mechs themselves could pass, but the human-sized door off to one side. The light above the lock turned green, and then a click signalled that the door could be opened. Cassie slipped inside, into the darkness, and then closed the door behind her.

The interior of Hangar 417 was dim, and the shadows made it difficult for Cassie to see anything clearly, even during the daytime. She waited for a moment for her eyes to adjust, and then walked over to the rope ladder which hung down from her cockpit. She stuffed her tablet down the back of her pants, reached for a bar just above her head, set her foot in another, and began to climb. Halfway up, the vertigo did come, and she had to close her eyes and simply cling to the ladder for a moment, until it passed. Finally, she made it up to where the RSiNC armor plating splayed open like the petals of a flower, opening the way to the interior.

Cassie threw herself back into the cushioned pilot’s seat, then shifted her hip, reached back, and removed her folded tablet. When she unfolded it, the glow from the screen lit her face and the interior of the cockpit.

I don’t feel any active interface to connect to, Lyra said. Also, someone has just accessed the hangar door.

“That’s because there’s no batteries in her,” Cassie explained. She heard the click of the lock from down below, echoing through the hangar, and saw a wedge of bright sunlight stab into the darkness. For just a moment, gantries, cranes, and repair equipment stowed along the sides of the hangar were illuminated, and then the door swung closed again. “Is that you, Jessica?” she called out.

“Your’re not supposed to be in here yet, Your Imperial Highness,” Jessica called up. It was the first time they’d actually spoken in weeks; during the Hard Burn expedition out into the jungle of Vidako, she’d been considerate enough to keep her distance. Or perhaps, Cassie thought, the other woman’s cover as a cadet had simply kept her too busy to stick as close to her charge as she would have otherwise preferred.

“I needed a bit of privacy to view a message from my brother,” Cassie said. “This is about the only place on campus I can be certain I won’t be followed. What you can do, Jessica, is watch the door and stop anyone else from trying to come in.”

There was a moment of near-mutinous silence. “Understood, Your Imperial Highness.”

Cassie tapped on the file icon on her screen, and the image of her brother’s face filled the tablet. Prince Orion Rigel Sabran-Solaris had the same coloring that she did, though on an unmistakably masculine face. Their mother called it ‘true winter,’ and it made them both resemble their father more than her. Orion’s jaw, clean-shaven in keeping with fleet regulations, was square and firm, showing not an ounce of fat. His hair was now longer than hers, though that wasn’t saying much when she’d been shaved down to the scalp. On the collar of his fleet uniform, he wore the gold bars of a Lieutenant, Junior Grade.

“It’s good to hear from you, Cassie,” Orion said, and his lips curved in that confident, mischievous smile that had made so many young noblewomen chase along at his heels. “Though I was expecting to hear more whining about how hard mech cadets have it. Horror stories about this ‘hard burn’ they do over there on Vidako. From what I hear, they hardly treat you all any different from marines for the first few weeks. I still think you’d have been better off getting on track to command a ship, but I won’t hound you about it any further; I suspect you’ve already had it so much from father that you’re sick to death.”

He shifted, perhaps leaning forward, though the image didn’t show enough of his surroundings to be certain. His bunk on the Numerian, perhaps?

“I had a few friends in Imperial Intelligence run a search on the names you gave me,” Orion continued. “They couldn’t get me anything classified, of course, but I think it’s enough to get a sense of who you’re dealing with, and any hidden pitfalls or attached strings.”

“Pika, son of Matriarch Iolana, from Ringworld Stellar Abyss,” Orion began. “I figured I’d start with the least complicated, and work upward from there. His story’s pretty standard, so far as the Alu’kans we get in military service. His mother thought he needed to get some of that youthful aggression out of his system, and that a term of service would do that just fine. What you might not have known is that his mother is one of the five who make up the Council of Matriarchs on Stellar Abyss. She’s not a senator, but locally, she has a lot of power.”

Cassie nodded, and caught herself chewing her lip. It was good to know, but she hadn’t really expected any earth-shattering secrets to come to light about the big Alu’kan. He wasn’t precisely subtle.

“Vee Nightjar is also pretty straightforward,” Orion continued. “By all accounts she’s a great pilot, but she’s also something of a hotshot.” Cassie couldn’t help but grin: that sounded just like her roommate, and she wasn’t at all surprised. “She’s also left a string of broken hearts and minor scandals behind her among the Nightjar Fleet, and she doesn’t seem particularly choosy about who she has a fling with. I’m told she got caught taking a senator’s daughter to the worst dive bar on Luyten II, and the night ended with a baker’s dozen people locked up in jail.”

“Rain Makani’s not nearly so happy a story.” Cassie’s older brother sighed. “Some of this is sealed, Cassie, because she was a minor by imperial law. Her mother was a prostitute, and she was raised in a brothel. Mom isn’t alive anymore, apparently, so the madame stepped in. You can probably guess how that went—right up until half a dozen marines from 7th Battalion, attached to the Nerva, went in during a night of hard drinking. Once they realized there was a kid at the brothel, they took it on their own initiative to rescue her. That particular incident left a few bodies behind, and resulted in not a few court martials, until Senator Dorotea Catalina stepped in. The girl’s become one of her proteges, so just know what you’re getting into, I guess.”

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“I’m afraid you’re out of luck so far as Shaii’eth C’rise of Bian is concerned. Word around the campfire,” the prince said, “is that father is determined to keep the two of you together. She’s the ambassador’s daughter, if you didn’t already know that, and the thought is it would be good for you and her to form a connection while you’re at school. Don’t hold it against the commandant, she doesn’t have much of a choice.”

“God dammit,” Cassie swore. She’d come all the way out to Vidako, leaving the core worlds behind entirely, and her father still couldn’t keep his hands off her life. And why did he think it was a good idea for her to be friends with a psycher, of all people?

“Which brings us to the two boys that have got me worried,” Orion grumbled. “Because I know how old you are, and I know what girls your age get up to. So I have some assumptions. I’m really, really hoping it isn’t this asshole, Cassie. Blake Van Camp grew up in a mining family, working the asteroid belt between Mars and Jupiter. That kind of background tends to either crush people, or make them mean, and everything I’ve heard says Van Camp is the latter. He’s got no political connections to speak of, though, so at least he’s only dangerous when you’re within arm’s reach of him.”

Cassie grimaced. Was her brother implying that she might be interested in a relationship with Van Camp, of all people? “You should know I have better taste than that,” she complained, to the dark cockpit.

“Arcturus Sandhurst.” Orion seemed to look right out of the screen and into her eyes. “Seems like a nice kid, Cassie, and he’s got the shit end of the stick lately. Working class family—dad’s got a job at the silk mills on Zurah V, and they live in the capital. The older sister, Phoebe, took a berth on a cargo hauler, and last spring they got hit by pirates on the way back from the gate to planetary orbit. It was The Adversity, and you might remember, because it was all over the web after it happened. No survivors. After that, the kid used one of our father’s pet projects to get into the academy on a free ride, so the good news is he doesn’t owe anyone anything.”

“Look, Cassie,” Orion said. “He seems like a good guy who’s been through too much. I’d bet a destroyer he’s at that academy with some idea of hunting down the pirates who killed his sister. He’s obviously smart as hell, or he wouldn’t have won that tournament. If he can work through his issues, he’s got a lot of potential.”

“I really hope you’re not looking at this emotional damage he’s got and wanting to take care of him.” At her brother’s words, Cassie could feel her cheeks getting hot, and she shifted uncomfortably in her pilot’s seat. “You probably don’t want to hear this, but it’s my job as your big brother to tell you. This guy, as nice as he might be, is not someone you can be involved with,” Orion continued.