place.
“Chah'nas, sure. They want their empire back. It’s not the most wonderful motivation, but it suits our purposes — the tavalai used to be their administrators in the old chah'nas empire, but they got uppity. Chah'nas want the tavalai back in their box. Chah'nas are complicated, but their motives usually aren’t. Alo…?” He shrugged expansively. “How much of the tech we use every day actually came from alo originally, and they gave to the chah'nas? Nobody knows. Alo are a damn sight smarter than chah'nas, smart enough they’ve got everyone else doing their fighting for them.
“There’s so much going on outside of human space that no one knows about, Erik. Stuff I can’t speculate upon with you because it would cost me my job and land me in prison. We’ve been in space twelve hundred years — with FTL, anyway. The first three hundred of that we were stuck in a small corner of krim space, fighting for our lives. Then we took krim space. Now we’ve taken half of tavalai space, and some of sard and kaal. There’s still a lot out there beyond the Spiral boundaries, all the way through the inner reaches. Those places have had sentient, spacefaring civilisation for fifty thousand years at least. More, if you count the Ancients. We’re just the kids out here, the newcomers. All these older species might have learned we’re damn tough to beat in a war, but they still think they can play us for fools, and they might be right.
“You’ve been understandably preoccupied with the war. But here in this office, I spend much of my days thinking and worrying about all that other stuff beyond our reach. And to me, it looks like Captain Pantillo got screwed over because he got in the way of something between Fleet HQ, and some other alien race we’ve got dealings with… and trust me, there’s a lot more of them than just chah'nas, alo or kuhsi. That’s all I can tell you.”
----
T race found her marines on the beach, playing volleyball, swimming and surfing, or lazing on the sand with food and drink. She strolled from the cab, sidearm and details in her small pack — being out of uniform was an inconvenience that way, she couldn’t wear the gun openly. But she felt safe enough here, on a lightly-trafficked road with a line of shops and cafes… despite the car along the parking line with two people in it, plainly watching.
Her guys didn’t recognise her immediately — there were about twenty, less than ten percent of the Phoenix company, all buff and lean in their swimwear, and drawing no few looks from the civvies around them. Then Carville saw her, sitting up from the sand by the volleyball game, about to call out but she shushed him with a finger to her lips, and took a seat beside him and three others.
“Hey Major,” said Carville, genuinely pleased to see her. “Didn’t recognise you in civvies, nice look.” She wore tight swimshorts and a short top over a bikini top. Dress for female officers around those she commanded wasn’t quite as simple as for male officers, and this was as much skin as seemed wise, on a beach, trying to blend in.
“Thanks Benji,” she said. “You look like you’ve been looking after yourself this shore leave, I’m impressed.”
Private ‘Benji’ Carville grinned, delighted as they all were when she used their nicknames. He was Alpha Second Squad, like were they all. “Well I may have had one too many last night,” he admitted. “But only one.”
“PT this morning?” she pressed.
“Sir yes sir!” said Kaur, and they laughed.
“Three klicks run on soft sand and full workout,” Carville assured her. “You’d have been proud.”
“I’m always proud Benji. I don’t know if I believe you, but I’m always proud.” More laughter.
“You here for the day Major?” Aram asked hopefully.
“Couple of hours,” she said. Truthfully, she could have spent more R&R time with them — they weren’t always drinking and being rowdy. But those that
“Chah'nas, sure. They want their empire back. It’s not the most wonderful motivation, but it suits our purposes — the tavalai used to be their administrators in the old chah'nas empire, but they got uppity. Chah'nas want the tavalai back in their box. Chah'nas are complicated, but their motives usually aren’t. Alo…?” He shrugged expansively. “How much of the tech we use every day actually came from alo originally, and they gave to the chah'nas? Nobody knows. Alo are a damn sight smarter than chah'nas, smart enough they’ve got everyone else doing their fighting for them.
“There’s so much going on outside of human space that no one knows about, Erik. Stuff I can’t speculate upon with you because it would cost me my job and land me in prison. We’ve been in space twelve hundred years — with FTL, anyway. The first three hundred of that we were stuck in a small corner of krim space, fighting for our lives. Then we took krim space. Now we’ve taken half of tavalai space, and some of sard and kaal. There’s still a lot out there beyond the Spiral boundaries, all the way through the inner reaches. Those places have had sentient, spacefaring civilisation for fifty thousand years at least. More, if you count the Ancients. We’re just the kids out here, the newcomers. All these older species might have learned we’re damn tough to beat in a war, but they still think they can play us for fools, and they might be right.
“You’ve been understandably preoccupied with the war. But here in this office, I spend much of my days thinking and worrying about all that other stuff beyond our reach. And to me, it looks like Captain Pantillo got screwed over because he got in the way of something between Fleet HQ, and some other alien race we’ve got dealings with… and trust me, there’s a lot more of them than just chah'nas, alo or kuhsi. That’s all I can tell you.”
----
T race found her marines on the beach, playing volleyball, swimming and surfing, or lazing on the sand with food and drink. She strolled from the cab, sidearm and details in her small pack — being out of uniform was an inconvenience that way, she couldn’t wear the gun openly. But she felt safe enough here, on a lightly-trafficked road with a line of shops and cafes… despite the car along the parking line with two people in it, plainly watching.
Her guys didn’t recognise her immediately — there were about twenty, less than ten percent of the Phoenix company, all buff and lean in their swimwear, and drawing no few looks from the civvies around them. Then Carville saw her, sitting up from the sand by the volleyball game, about to call out but she shushed him with a finger to her lips, and took a seat beside him and three others.
“Hey Major,” said Carville, genuinely pleased to see her. “Didn’t recognise you in civvies, nice look.” She wore tight swimshorts and a short top over a bikini top. Dress for female officers around those she commanded wasn’t quite as simple as for male officers, and this was as much skin as seemed wise, on a beach, trying to blend in.
“Thanks Benji,” she said. “You look like you’ve been looking after yourself this shore leave, I’m impressed.”
Private ‘Benji’ Carville grinned, delighted as they all were when she used their nicknames. He was Alpha Second Squad, like were they all. “Well I may have had one too many last night,” he admitted. “But only one.”
“PT this morning?” she pressed.
“Sir yes sir!” said Kaur, and they laughed.
“Three klicks run on soft sand and full workout,” Carville assured her. “You’d have been proud.”
“I’m always proud Benji. I don’t know if I believe you, but I’m always proud.” More laughter.
“You here for the day Major?” Aram asked hopefully.
“Couple of hours,” she said. Truthfully, she could have spent more R&R time with them — they weren’t always drinking and being rowdy. But those that
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