PROLOGUe
Captain Liam O’Connor stood by the viewing port in the ship’s lounge as they approached the planet Etrusci. He watched as the lights of the spaceport grew larger and brighter. Those lights were only the second most beautiful thing he had ever seen, for they were leading him to his wife, Celinia. His emotions were a jumble. He could not wait to have her in his arms, despite his unshakeable guilt.
She didn’t want me to go. I had to. After three years of training my company, they had a right to expect me to go with them.
“Okay, sir?”
Liam turned to find Sergeant Ephram and Corporal Dillon had joined him. The fires of battle had forged his friendship with the two. The deployment had left them exhausted. Nevertheless, the Neo-Etruscan Expeditionary Regiment had made an excellent account of itself, especially Liam’s Special Operations Company (SPEC CO).
“How’s Private Rasce?” Liam asked.
“The doctor says he’ll pull through.” Ephram stepped close. “Medical staff packed the plasma wound, and priestesses are waiting to take charge of him and the rest of the wounded.”
Liam breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m glad to have no more letters to write.”
Writing “the letter” was done electronically now but was still something no unit commander looked forward to doing. Almost a
third of the regiment had already gone home via mortuary ships. They would hold a special memorial service for them at The Temple in New Olympia.
Liam turned back to the window.
We were already on Sigma Vega Three when she told me she was pregnant. Liam could not shake the notion she had kept something from him.
He and Celinia had become very good at using the dreamscape to slip into each other’s minds over long distances for intimate conversations. They realized the hazards of this kind of intimacy when she tried to contact him in the dreamscape while he led his Special Operations Company into a Rebel-held position. The ebb and flow of battle had cut him off from his command and left him fighting for his life. She had had a ringside seat when he rammed his dagger into a Sevran’s skull.
He had heard her cry out in shock before breaking the connection. Only the discipline of his long training had prevented him from going after her. The battle lasted another five hours, leaving him too exhausted to contact her again.
After fretting for days, he talked to her via subspace. He did not like the terrified look in her eyes. The shock of her experience had alerted the Great Shaman Storm Cloud to her distress. What Celinia had experienced through him left her traumatized. She was also horrified that she could have gotten him killed.
Celinia told me about her conversation with Storm Cloud. He explained to her that what she did was dangerous for someone in my position. So, we agreed to limit communication to subspace unless I initiated dreamscape contact. Seems obvious now.
“The Eisolepans told us they had left Sigma Vega Three pacified.” Dillon drew Liam back into the conversation. “I think they forgot to tell the Rebels.”
“Well,” Liam said, “you both did a terrific job. I’m proud of you.”
“Thank you, sir,” Ephram replied.
A message came over the ship’s address system. “New Terran Spaceship Shiloh on final approach to South Corinth Spaceport.”
Dillion looked around to make sure they had privacy. “You seem nervous, sir.”
“I’m a new daddy.” Liam went back to watching the lights.
“I thought the birth wouldn’t be for another month.” Ephram’s brow knitted in concern.
“I got a message from my cousin, Gráinne. It happened last week.” Both men recognized Liam’s tone as self-recrimination. “I couldn’t even be with her in the dreamscape when our daughter was born.”
“It wasn’t your fault the Rebels launched a major offensive,” Dillon replied.
Liam only sighed. “I know, but I still can’t reach Celinia in the dreamscape.”
Once the battle ended, he had tried several times. He just could not get in touch with her.
There are many reasons for my not being able to contact her, and none of them are good.
“I’m sure she’s all right,” Dillon reassured him. “Birth can be a rough process. She still needs rest, most likely. Your imagination is just filling in the blanks with problems. You’ll see. You’ll both be laughing about it in a few days.”
Liam remained silent. The situation on the Shiloh had made using the ship’s subspace for personal communications problematic.
“NTSS Shiloh, touching down in three, two, one—touchdown.” The ship trembled as the landing gear contacted the tarmac. “NTSS Shiloh, to all crew, we have landed and are securing
from spaceflight. Prepare to disembark.”
Dillon placed a hand on Liam’s shoulder. “She must be all
right.”
“What about the baby?” Liam whispered. “The message was
terse.”
Dillon shrugged and exchanged looks with Ephram. “I remember how chaotic it was when my kids were born. My Mom practically sat on me until I gave her details. Would you believe I forgot to tell her it was a boy the first time?”
Ephram shook his head and laughed.
“NTSS Shiloh, set to begin disembarkation.”
Liam’s gear sat at his feet—his long-suffering rucksack, duffle
bag, and rifle bag. He hefted them over his shoulders as Colonel Simon, son of Laris and Hercna, came up beside them.
“Finally, home.”
Liam could hear the relief in Colonel Simon’s voice.
“You brought the regiment through, sir.” Liam forced a smile
to his superior and friend.
Colonel Simon smiled back at him. “You and your company
performed a remarkable bit of tactical wizardry, Captain. I’m glad I picked you as SPEC CO’s commander.”
“Thank you, sir,” Liam replied.
The colonel placed his hand on Liam’s shoulder. “I’m sure Celinia and the baby are fine.”
Colonel Simon smiled. Another survivor from the Azurian Invasion.
The hatch opened, and the regiment disembarked. Liam had overloaded himself with his gear many times before now. Today, it all felt like lead, along with the rest of him.
Liam, Ephram, and Dillon rejoined their company and marched down the ramp. Out of a company of one hundred men, only sixty- seven were coming home. Once the four battalions of the Neo- Etruscan Expeditionary Regiment formed up on the tarmac, they came to attention.
“Gentlemen,” Colonel Simon told his commanders. “You may dismiss your men.”
Lt. Colonel Janus did an about-face. “Battalion!” Liam looked over his shoulder. “Company!” “Dismissed!”
The units broke up. Liam watched as soldiers reunited with their loved ones. People who lost a loved one waited as well. His heart ached when he recognized a family member of someone under his command who would not be coming home.
Liam did not see Celinia in the crowd. A group of women wearing the robes of priestesses came forward. They would collect the injured from the ship’s sick bay. Liam continued to scan the crowd for any of his family and friends.
He did a double take when two priestesses came toward him as the others entered the ship. He recognized High Priestess Sindee, one of Celinia’s friends.
“Captain Liam, foster son of Marcus and Lidia, son of Seámus and Deirdre,” High Priestess Sindee began in an official tone. “High Priestess Celinia requests your presence at once.”
“Sindee,” Protocol be damned. “What happened? I can’t reach Celinia. Is she...?”
Sindee raised a hand to stop him. “It was a difficult pregnancy. She’s going to be fine, but she doesn’t have the strength for dreamscape communication.”
“And the baby?” Liam asked.
“Fine,” Sindee assured him. “Celinia sent us to escort you home.”
He stepped forward, but the junior priestess stopped him. With a flick of her eyes, she reminded him of his gear. Feeling like an idiot, Liam collected his stuff and followed them.
What aren’t they telling me? Liam tied himself in knots with worry.
.....
The two priestesses spoke no words to him. They remained silent through the portal to New Santorini, where his wife was the high priestess at the local temple or on the trip to the village of Aran.
Some people of the village stood along the road. He took the looks they gave him as looks of sympathy.
Creator, I failed her. Liam felt sick to his stomach. How can I make things right?
The door to their house opened, and they ushered him inside. His brother’s wife, High Priestess Teresina, stood beside Celinia, who stood facing him. Her green eyes seemed to burn into him.
“Celinia...”
“Captain Liam, foster son of Marcus, foster son of Lidia, son of Seámus, son of Deirdre. We have requested your presence,” she continued, then paused, “to introduce you to our daughters.”
“Celinia.” Liam’s voice shook. “I... daughters?”
Plural?
Liam became even more confused when Celinia smiled at him.
Sindee and the other priestess laughed as they pushed him into a rocking chair. Liam’s paternal grandparents, Margaret and Patrick McGregor, and his mother’s sister, Máire, came out of the den. Other friends, including Ambassador Jarek of Gothow and the Great Shaman of the bear-lizards, Storm Cloud exited the kitchen.
Where did they find room? Liam felt bewildered.
More came in from the yard. His grandparents and aunt placed three identical little bundles into his arms.
“I think you should’ve just told him,” his cousin Gráinne half- heartedly scolded Celinia. “The poor lad’s nearly sick with worry.”
“You went along with it,” Celinia replied.
“The two of ye,” Máire admonished. “Shh.”
Liam looked down at the triplets. Seeming to sense a
connection, they looked up at him and snuggled closer, so they could be with their daddy. One looked up at him. Another reached out and tried to grab his nose. The third closed her eyes for a moment as if savoring their closeness. Then the infant looked out over the room. Liam felt overwhelmed with emotion.
Celinia came and stood by the chair, watching her beloved bonding with their daughters.
“I’m sorry, my love.” Celinia smiled at him, though her tone was contrite. “Your cousin’s right. I should have told you we have triplets. I wanted to surprise you. After all you’ve been through, it now seems cruel. Will you forgive me?”
Wonder had stolen away Liam’s voice. He looked up at her and allowed himself to become lost in those fierce green eyes, so like his daughters’ eyes.
“See the one who’s looking over everything and plotting her takeover?” Aunt Máire approached the other side of the chair. “We named her Deirdre, after your mother. The one who’s examining your nose is Bayvin, after my grandmother. The third is Aisling, after our illustrious ancestor.”
“Deirdre,” Liam managed, “Bayvin, Aisling.”
He looked up at his wife, who leaned down to allow her lips to
brush his. Afterwards, the babies would fuss anytime someone tried to take them from their daddy. As the celebration continued, Liam, exhausted, fell asleep in the chair with the triplets nestled against him.
Eleven years later
CHAPTeR 1
Kergan smiled as his battlecruiser, R.S.S. Sesqwettor, orbited around the gas giant, Beta Proximus Four. Their destination came into view—Treespo, the fifth moon of the planet.
General Maranz had delivered a total victory. His forces had outclassed and overwhelmed the local militia.
“We’re entering orbit around Treespo, Marshal,” the helmsmen reported.
“Standard parking orbit, Lieutenant,” Kergan ordered.
Kergan stood and turned toward the bridge entrance. “Have my shuttle prepped.”
“By your order, Marshal,” the communications officer acknowledged.
The communications officer turned to the comm as the door closed.
“Bridge to flight deck control. Ready the Marshal’s shuttle.” .....
Donning an atmospheric suit, Kergan headed to the flight deck. On entering the shuttle, he found Colonel Teramiah, his second in command, in his own atmospheric suit, waiting for him. Teramiah had been his friend since before they had joined the Rebellion. Kergan relied on Teramiah’s good sense and keen insights. He never used rank when addressing his friend in private.
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“Report from Sorel Maranz,” reported Teramiah. “He’s crushed the last of the resistance. Sorel delivered a total victory.”
“Excellent. Everything is on schedule. We caught the Alliance Unified Command flat-footed.”
Teramiah smiled. “Thanks to our contact in the Ministry of Public Safety.”
Kergan smiled to himself. Those false signals lured the Unified Fleet so out of position that it will take months to put some kind of force together.
Kergan sat in silence as the shuttle entered the nitrogen- methane atmosphere of the moon the Movorians called Treespo. Descending past the yellow haze, a rocky, mountainous landscape came into view. Liquids on the surface had carved multiple valleys and gullies into the terrain. Approaching the ruins of Escedron, Treespo’s primary city, the ship slowed. The fleet had blasted a massive hole into the city’s dome during General Sorel Maranz’s initial bombardment. A jet of flame had shot out as the moon’s atmosphere mixed with the oxygen in the dome and ignited, blackening the edges.
“There weren’t as many casualties as we had expected,” Teramiah informed him. “General Maranz reported most of the fleeing populace made it to shelters or at least into protective clothing. He estimates civilian fatalities to be less than ten percent.”
Kergan shrugged.
“Nearing landing platform, Marshal,” the pilot reported. “Flight Control has informed us the command center now has breathable air. You still need to suit up for the journey to the airlock.”
“Understood.” Teramiah called.
The moment the craft touched down on the tarmac, Kergan and Teramiah donned their helmets. After checking their air and communications, they proceeded to the airlock. The airlock cycled,
venting air, and equalizing the pressure. The hatch opened on the barren world. Two figures in atmospheric suits waited for them.
“Marshal.” The two soldiers saluted. “We are to guide you to General Maranz.”
“Very good.” Kergan nodded, feeling curious. Protocol dictates a junior officer greet a superior in person.
They hastened along the damaged walkway.
“Our engineers estimate it will take a few more days to restore the atmospheric bridge,” one soldier informed him.
“General Maranz?” Kergan asked.
“He’s waiting in the ready room, Marshal,” the soldier replied, as they entered the airlock into the building.
After the light on the airlock turned green, Kergan and Teramiah removed their helmets and followed their guides to the ready room. One glance told them why General Maranz had not greeted them himself. The Torian had his splinted leg propped on a stool.
“Sorry I couldn’t come to meet you myself.” The general spoke in a sour voice. “A IED nearly had my name on it. It dislodged a boulder, and I didn’t get my leg out of the way in time.”
“More than understandable, Sorel,” Kergan replied, taking a seat. He smiled at the general, another childhood friend. “Bad?”
“Snapped like a twig,” the general grumbled in disgust. “My chief medical officer wants me in the medical unit to get the leg set. I just haven’t had the time.”
The general nodded toward a Gothowan doctor, who glared with his arms folded.
Kergan stifled a laugh. It must irk Sorel to have the doctor hovering over him.
“Status report?” Kergan commanded, changing the subject.
“I would say we pacified all resistance.” The general sighed in exasperation. “However, every time I do, I jinx myself. Therefore, I’ll only say, so far so good.”
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Kergan smirked at General Maranz’s frustration. Their eyes met, and the general allowed a hint of a smile to play across his lips. “Welcome to Treespo, old friend.”
The smile vanished somewhat as Sorel allowed his professionalism to return. “We have uprooted the last detectable pockets of resistance,” the general went on. “We’re making progress getting things running again. The Movorians partisans haven’t harassed us since yesterday. I’m giving the cities low priority while we concentrate on getting the mining operations back up and running. We’ve transported all Movorians to nearby neutral worlds. They can make their way back to Alliance space as they wish.”
“A pity no Movorians joined the Rebellion,” Kergan mused. “They’re some of the galaxy’s best pilots.”
“The advantage of having six manipulating appendages,” Teramiah commented.
General Maranz continued. “We’ve set up a new comm array in the foothills of the Tersec Mountains to the west. In the south, we’re building a fortification for the local and subspace communication jammers. I am preparing my defenses for an Alliance counterattack.”
Kergan cocked an eyebrow. “The Alliance Unified Fleet is well out of position. It will take them months to mount any sort of offensive. Our agents in the ministry saw to that.”
The general snorted. “And I thought I’d pacified all resistance yesterday. This,” pointing at his broken leg, “convinced me I should act as though one were imminent.”
“Understandable,” Kergan conceded. “Though you were always the brave one during those days on Omicron Tau.”
“Our misspent youths,” the general remembered.
“You have the samples?”
The general nodded as he tried to stand. In an instant, his two
aides were at his side. “I’m not crippled,” the general snapped.
“Of course not, General,” a lieutenant replied in a soothing tone, “but the gravimetric splints aren’t perfect. You don’t want those two pieces of bone slamming together again.”
Kergan and Teramiah maintained their serious demeanors until they had the general out of the door. Kergan allowed a chuckle. Teramiah tried not to double over with laughter.
Kergan looked at the doctor, who gave the two of them a reproving look.
“He always was a lousy patient,” Kergan explained. The doctor cracked a smile. Teramiah laughed again.
.....
The general glowered at Kergan and Teramiah as they caught up to him in the science wing. The two aides waited by the door. General Maranz sat in a chair with his leg propped on a stool. His soldiers had even put a blanket around him.
“Have you two finished laughing at my misfortune?”
“I think we mostly have it out of our systems, General,” Teramiah replied, trying to keep a straight face.
Kergan made sure the door closed behind them.
The general pointed to a table on which there were trays of different ores. “Without these minerals, this desolate hunk of rock would be worthless.”
“Rare metal elements,” Teramiah breathed.
Kergan felt his pulse racing as he examined the trays. These minerals are critical for many modern technologies. This moon has some of the rarest in our galaxy.
“The project is at a critical stage,” Teramiah informed the general, one of the few who knew about Kergan’s special project. “The dozen crystals we are growing for the fusion coils are a little over a decade from completion.”
The general pointed to some containment units. “Those units hold enough minerals to finish your twelve. I’ll have them loaded
KURT D. SPRINGS 5
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onto your shuttle. In a few months, we could have enough material to start another hundred.”
“With our access to Forerunner technology, our endgame for the Alliance could begin soon after we deploy those weapons. Think of it. The power to render a world’s surface molten in a few minutes.”
“Weapons forbidden by treaty, Marshal,” Teramiah pointed out.
“The Alliance has already ignored many treaties in this war, Teramiah.” Kergan studied the three samples.
“Remember,” Teramiah warned. “We shouldn’t get greedy. The twelve should be enough to finish the war.”
Kergan nodded. “If we leave now, however, we could make the Alliance suspicious that this invasion is not what it seems. The longer we can hold Treespo, the more convinced they’ll be we captured the moon for general use and to deny them these minerals.”
“However,” General Maranz added, “our holding it isn’t a bad thing.”
Teramiah nodded. “It depends how hard the Alliance fights to get it back.”
.....
Gunnery Sergeant Anthony “Mad Bull” Russo accompanied Colonel Thomas Halsey along the streets of the village of Aran. It reminded the gunny of his brief time on Eire Nua, where they had stopped before a major deployment: a little taste of Finnian culture on Etrusci.
“Interesting place for him to live, sir,” the gunny commented.
“He may have been born on Etrusci, adopted by a Neo-Etruscan family, and married a Neo-Etruscan woman, Gunny,” the colonel replied, glancing at his friend. “He is a Finnian, however, and his
ties with his Finnian family have strengthened since the end of the Azurian Invasion.”
“Yes, sir,” Gunnery Sergeant Russo replied.
The colonel spared him another glance. “Still worried?”
Russo did not answer.
“He’s led the Neo-Etruscan Expeditionary Regiment’s SPEC CO
on three separate deployments since then,” Halsey added.
“Those incidents were minor skirmishes, sir,” Sergeant Russo replied. “Beta Proximus Four is going to be a big deal. Kergan will
fight to hold it. Also, why is he still a major?”
“The needs of the Neo-Etruscan Defense Forces,” Colonel
Halsey replied. “They needed him where he is: in command of their SPECOP Company. They’re still not a sizeable force.”
“I don’t know, sir.” Sergeant Russo glanced at Colonel Halsey. “Plus, Major O’Connor won’t have his entire company, just part of it.”
“Hence, the whole point of this trip, Gunny. Etrusci officially withdrew from the fight. So, only about half of a normal company’s complement volunteered to go off-world again. We have our Bravo Company, which is at half strength, and we don’t have a company commander. You only have two weeks to merge two forces into—”
Turning down a village lane, they heard squeals of laughter. Two young girls, around ten or eleven, sped out of a gate, their curly red tresses streaming behind them. They came to a sudden stop when they saw the two marines.
“Aisling, Bayvin,” came an angry, childish voice behind them. “Aidan’s legs aren’t that long. I’ve told you and told you...”
A third redheaded girl, identical to the first two, save for her cross look, stalked out of the gate holding a little boy by the hand. A small furry quadruped, which looked something like a bear, but with scales in places, ambled beside them. They also stopped, surprised to see the two men.
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“The five of you,” came an older, exasperated voice. “You aren’t supposed to be out here when your parents aren’t home.” A young woman wearing the robes of a novice priestess in The Temple exited the gate and stopped, her eyes going wide.
She recovered almost at once, straightened, placed her hands together, and with infinite grace, bowed over her hands. “Welcome to the home of Liam, son of Marcus, and Celinia, daughter of Thomasia.” She spoke in a formal tone. “I am Sylvia, daughter of Sharina.”
Sergeant Russo watched the colonel repeat the gesture, then remembered himself and did likewise.
“I am Colonel Thomas Halsey, Third Regiment of the New Terran Marine Corps, Third Division.” He turned to his companion. “Gunnery Sergeant Anthony Russo. Is Major Liam O’Connor at home?”
Sylvia straightened. “I expect them back shortly. They went to the market. I’m watching the children. You are more than welcome to come in and wait for them. You might enjoy the view of the sea from the patio.”
She cast a stern glance at the children.
The one holding her little brother’s hand recovered first. “I am Deirdre, daughter of Liam and Celinia,” she replied, her tone formal.
Her sisters followed suit. “Aisling,” one said. “Bayvin,” replied the other. Deirdre nudged her little brother.
“Aidan, son of Liam and Celinia.” Then, “I’m four-years-old.”
Sergeant Russo could not help but smile at the pride in his childish voice.
The furry creature reared up. I am Ted, he telepathically declared to their surprise. Son of Silent Shadow and Plains Flower.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you all.” Colonel Halsey smiled. .....
Sergeant Russo sat with the colonel on the patio. The children’s great-grandparents, Margaret and Patrick McGregor, had hurried over after receiving Sylvia’s signal. The older woman came onto the patio with some glasses. “Would ye care for some iced tea?” their great-grandmother asked.
“Thank you.” The colonel took a glass.
Gunnery Sergeant Russo followed Colonel Halsey’s example while watching the children. Aidan and Ted were gazing at something on the ground—probably observing local insects. The three girls were playing a game with rings. He had to admire their agility. Yet, they seemed subdued since he and the colonel had arrived.
Gunnery Sergeant Russo guessed why. Their daddy is going into harm’s way again. In all my years, regardless of species, it never gets easier. He glanced at the colonel, who admired the ocean view.
“It’s a lovely place for a house,” the colonel commented.
“Sea.” The great-grandmother smiled and took a seat. “We came to Etrusci to build it for our grandson and his wife, then decided to stay. Other Finnian thought it a lovely location, and our little village grew.”
“Sha?” Russo asked.
“‘Yes’ in Finnian,” Margret informed him.
“Problem with ocean storms?”
“Already built into the structures,” she replied, as her husband
sat with them.
Sergeant Russo looked up at the same time as the children
when the gate opened.
“Daddy, Mommy!” The three girls dashed to the gate and
surrounded their father, throwing their arms around him as if they wanted to keep him all to themselves. The major put down some grocery bags and gathered them into his arms as the boy went to his mother. The sergeant realized they had not come alone. Five bear-lizards came through the gate after them. Ted bounded up to greet them. One caught Sergeant Russo’s attention.
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He had gray fur, almost white with a hooded leather cape slung across his shoulders. His movements were deliberate, as if troubled by aching joints. He seemed enwrapped in an aura of power and quiet authority.
The major looked up and realized they had guests. He whispered a quick word to his daughters. The old bear-lizard gathered the youngsters, who stood before him with solemn expressions.
The major approached with his wife. The children returned to their games, and the bear-lizards came onto the patio.
“Colonel Halsey, Gunnery Sergeant Russo.” Liam saluted, then offering his hand. “Forgive me. I wasn’t expecting you on planet for another three days.”
“We’re ahead of schedule,” the colonel replied. “I should’ve called.”
“Well,” the major’s wife said. “You’re both here. You will have dinner with us.”
Sergeant Russo saw where the girls had inherited their red hair and green eyes. Here was another who commanded respect. The dinner invitation had the authority of a direct order.
The major glanced at his wife. “Gentlemen, my wife, High Priestess Celinia, daughter of Thomasia.”
The bear-lizards gathered nearby. “My old friend, Swift Hunter, and his mate, Great Heart. Their son Silent Shadow and his mate Plains Flower.”
“We met Ted,” the colonel offered as he took their hand-like paws.
“And the Great Shaman, Storm Cloud.” Liam introduced the elder bear-lizard.
Well met, Colonel Halsey, Sergeant Russo, Gunny heard in his head. Forgive me if I don’t rear up to greet you, but I rarely do that these days. My grandparents spoke truly when they told me getting old isn’t any fun.
“I remember my grandparents saying something similar,” the gunny replied.
You will find they were right. The creature’s mental voice held power, but also a wry sense of humor.
.....
