Border Wars, page 1
part #8 of On Silver Wings Series

Border Wars
Book IIX in the On Silver Wings series.
Cold War IV
Evan Currie
ALSO BY EVAN CURRIE
Atlantis Rising Series
Knighthood
The Demon City
Odyssey One Series
Into the Black
The Heart of Matter
Homeworld
Out of the Black
Odysseus One : Warrior King
Odysseus Awakening
Odysseus Ascendant
Archangel One Series
Archangel One
Archangel Rising
Odyssey One: Star Rogue Series
King of Thieves
Heirs of Empire
Heirs of Empire
An Empire Asunder
Warrior's Wings Series
On Silver Wings
Valkyrie Rising
Valkyrie Burning
The Valhalla Call
By Other Means
De Oppresso Liber
Open Arms
Other Works
SEAL Team 13
Steam Legion
Thermals
Copyright Info
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.
Text copyright (c) 2016 Evan Currie
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
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About the Author : Evan Currie is a Canadian author of science fiction and fantasy novels whose work has been translated into multiple languages and sold around the world. Best known for his military science fiction series' Odyssey One and On Silver Wings, Evan has also dabbled in far flung Space Fantasy like Heirs of Empire and steampunk-ish alt-history among other worlds.
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Chapter One
Hayden Counterweight Tether, Hayden Orbit
Gil Hayden looked over the new arrival as it closed slowly on the docking ports of the tether station, eyes roaming the hull of the old Explorer Class vessel. The Socrates was a known visitor to the region, of course, having been a regular on the run between Earth and Hayden since the war. This time, however, one entry on the ship's manifest had caught his attention and brought him down to the reception area personally.
The ship took almost an hour to get into position, dock, and finally begin unloading. People came off first, trooping through the airlock in a seemingly unending procession, Most had little with them. Weight restrictions weren't as bad on starships as they had been once, but they still existed and were considered onerous by most unless you had a fair amount of money to pay for the extra room.
Sometimes even that wasn't enough.
Few people who came to Hayden, or any of the colony worlds for that matter, seemed to bring much with them. It was about a new life, and really what was there to bring that could really prepare you for that?
Gil waited patiently, eyes flicking over the arrivals with mild interest. Some he recognized, their applications having crossed his desk or their assignments from SOLCOM's science council. Most he didn't know. A lot of people were moving out from Earth now that the war had been over for a while.
There had been a time, just after the colonies had been opened, that space exploration and colonization captured the imaginations of many. At that point, however, access to the colonies had been intensely regulated. Of the millions who applied, only thousands were even considered in most cases. That caused interest to wane even as lifting capacity increased.
The war had changed that tide back, however, from what Gil could see.
Focus was back on the colonies, with Hayden front and center. It was rapidly becoming the world to visit, and even to consider a permanent relocation to. That was good, and bad, for Hayden and Gil's workload. The biggest problem just being sorting through all the applications to figure out where people would best be suited, at least when they arrived, and ensuring that they had somewhere to live when they got here.
For most, that second point was the sticking one.
Gil's eyes settled on a rugged older man who was just stepping onto the station proper. This was a man that Gil was aware wouldn't have any issues with the second point, and he was who Gil was waiting to meet.
"Cassius Aida?" He asked, just to be absolutely certain... and, honestly, to be polite. The computer had already positively identified him with facial recognition, of course.
"That's me," The bigger man said, his voice a bit of a low rumble.
"Your daughter asked if I would see to your arrival," Gil explained, "I'm afraid she couldn't be here."
Cassius looked him over briefly, "What happened?"
"I'm not certain to honest," Gil said simply, "The SOLCOM vessel, SOL arrived, a few ships went back and forth between her land claim and orbit, next thing I know she showed up in my office a few days later lugging her pack."
Cassius grunted, though he didn't seem surprised, "Duty calls. Thought she was retired."
Gil nodded, "She is from what she said, or she will be shortly. Last mission, though I admit that I've heard that before."
Cassius smiled tightly, "It's an old song. So, where am I bunking?"
Gil gestured easily. "That would be up to you, your daughter has arranged for lodging in the colony if you like, or you can go out to her claim."
Cassius hefted his duffle, slinging it over his shoulder. "Well I best get some information about this claim then, hadn't I, so I can make a decision."
"Come," Gil said, smiling, "I'll get you a computer and show you the specifics. As I understand it, Sergeant Aida arranged everything such that all the basics are covered so you won't need for anything on her spread, but it is quite isolated."
"Nothing wrong with isolation."
Gil laughed. "Tell me that when you've been the only man on an entire continent for a couple weeks."
Cassius looked up, a spark in his eye, "Now you've caught my interest."
*****
God is Great, Alliance Space
The planet was surprisingly comfortable for human inhabitation, though not as close to a paradise world as Hayden had been seen to be originally. The temperate zone that the colonists had settled in was close to that of the moderate northern climates on Earth, though much of the polar regions were currently in a rather expansive Ice Age.
Seen from orbit, the world was a narrow band of green and blue bordered on top and bottom by endless expanses of white.
With almost ninety percent of the world covered in ice, one might be forgiven if you considered the planet less than attractive to settlers. However, the ten percent that remained was still a rather impressively large swathe of territory and, for a young colony, more than enough room to grow into.
The fact that the settlers had already spread out over as much of the world as they had was a testament to how seriously they took the commandments of their religion, however, and it presented an unusual problem for the observers in orbit.
*****
USV SOL, Orbit over God is Great
Admiral Ruger frowned deeply as he looked over the map again, unable to quite believe just how much territory they were having to cover.
"This is ridiculous," He grumbled, "Every other colony world focuses around the landing site, here they've spread themselves around half the damn planet!"
Brigadier Mattan shrugged, "We've never encountered a group that factioned off like this before. Most colony worlds are more organized and controlled at the beginning, not really sure what happened here."
Ruger snorted, "You know as well as I do what happened. They had some sort of religious schism."
"Of course, but I meant that we don't know why," Mattan returned mildly, unconcerned by his comrade's frustrations. "A reformation isn't uncommon in various religions, of course, but without understanding the underlying causes we'd just be guessing."
"I could do with some guesses right about now. This is an operational nightmare," Ruger grumbled. "We need more ships. We can't cover this much ground and expect to get anything done."
"Patience," Mattan counseled, "A fast solution is never a permanent solution. We'll do this right, trust the team to handle it."
"The team I trust," Ruger countered, "It's the damn Alliance that has sweat running down my back. They could pull the plug on this entire operation anytime."
"Let them. This isn't our problem," Mattan shrugged.
"The hell it isn't. If this blows up in their face, we're getting covered in shrapnel too, trust me on that."
"Then let's make sure it doesn't blow up."
*****
God is Great
The cloak blew around her as she moved through the shrub land, seemingly unaware of the chill wind that was plucking at her coverings. Ahead of her there was a home, smoke pouring from the chimney in a welcoming billowy tower that reached for the sky. It was a solitary building, however, with nothing else within sight in all directions.
She approached casually, pausing at the threshold of the property and calling out without stepping through the short - gated fence.
"Salaam alaikum!" She called, "Hello, is anyone there?"
She paused, waiting for the response, if anywhere to come, with a deep patience despite the environment around her.
Finally, the door opened, and a man appeared in heavy robes, an old rifle in his hands.
"Yes?" He asked, the weapon not quite pointed in her direction.
"Hello," She said again, "I bring a message from Horu, to the West."
The man eyed her for a moment, neither with distrust nor welcome, but finally lifted the barrel of his weapon to point skyward and nodded briefly as he pushed the door opened.
"Come," He said, "Be welcome in my home."
Sorilla Aida nodded under her hooded cloak and stepped over the threshold onto the property, making her way into the house and the promise of warmth.
The Special Forces soldier had been on God is Great for almost six weeks by this point, much of it in local garb as she tracked down information on the local resistance faction that had been giving the Alliance no end of trouble.
Similar to Arkana, the locals on God is Great had a rather sizeable aversion to foreign influence, so the arrival of the Alliance and their rather extreme version of 'foreign' had profound effects on the deeply religious and almost equally paranoid colonists. She'd barely been able to scrape the surface of the changes that had precipitated from the event, but one thing had been clear almost from her arrival on world.
The Islamic culture on God had not dealt with the existence of aliens in a natural or healthy way. Compared to the colonists on Arkana, who had a culture of almost expectation that aliens were real, it seemed that the one here on God were deeply shaken in ways that it, and she, were still struggling to understand. It had sent reverberations through their culture that Sorilla doubted anyone would ever truly understand, and that were almost certainly still shaking the foundations of the society even today.
Once inside, and the door closed against the chill wind and she flipped her hood down, drawing an intense look from her host.
"Horu sent you?" He asked, just a hint of disbelief in his tone.
"He sent this," She drew a package from under her cloak and extended it out to him, "With compliments."
The man stared for a moment, as if weighing her intent, but Sorilla didn't shift or move until he finally reached out and took the package from her and hefted it slightly in his hand without looking at it.
Finally, he broke down a little, "Would you like tea?"
Sorilla could feel the chill to her bones, but automatically gestured negatively, "Please, don't put yourself out on my account."
"Nonsense," He responded, "It is no matter. I will prepare some."
"No, my friend," She said, "I am fine, I promise."
"I insist," He said firmly.
Sorilla gratefully acceded then, "I am thankful, and would be grateful indeed to share tea with you."
"Excellent!" He smiled boisterously, "Come, I will prepare the water and we will talk."
Sorilla nodded, taking an offered seat by the fire as she opened her cloak to let the heat filter in. She missed her armor, but the nature of the mission on God is Great had required a more delicate touch, much to her annoyance in some ways. The inhabitants of Arkana had been relatively open to contact with the Alliance, even trading with them in some ways, something that wasn't remotely as common on the much more spread out and isolated word of God is Great.
Certainly, there was some of that, of course. The Alliance had forced that on the largest planetary settlement, with a small spaceport and some basic trading. The wealthier members of the society had taken to it the way they always seemed to, trading for luxuries and the like, but among most the Alliance people were viewed as demons from the pits of hell or some similar idea.
That meant that the fast and dirty approach to the problem was right out.
Of course, since the colony was spread out so much and many of the colonists remained their entirely lives within a hundred kilometers or so of their birthplace, that meant that infiltration was a possibility, unlike the much tighter knit society on Arkana.
Sorilla knew that the work would likely be interrupted before she could properly finish it, that seemed to be the nature of dealings with the Alliance... and, if she were honest, with politicians in general. Always in a hurry, never concerned about getting the job done properly, just getting it done publicly.
She suppressed her urge to sigh, the sign of impatience wouldn't be taken well by her host, and she was looking forward to the hot tea.
*****
Kris forced down his impatient impulses, eyes on the small hut the human warrior had entered some time ago. That's been so long, too long, chasing down one hint of a lead after another on this long - forsaken world and it was beginning to get to him. Lucians were not spies or investigators - they were warriors and this was a war.
So where was all the fighting?
For the warrior he knew her to be, the human was annoyingly averse to just getting right down to the business of why they were here. Even more annoyingly, the thrice damned spymaster seemed to both approve, and consider her more of a threat than ever, having seen how she operated.
Kris had been around long enough that he didn't have the young Lucians' ideas of what constituted courage or cowardice. He knew that not all wars were won on the charge, or the explosions. That didn't keep him from having his patience tested, however.
These humans he was forced to deal with were unlike most of the alliance races. They didn't specialize, not in the same way the alliance did. The Pari considered them able ship handlers. He considered them able warriors, and now the spymaster apparently considered them more than able at his craft as well.
That wasn't to say that Lucians couldn't spy, or pilot a ship, but it would be rare for one of the other specialists in the alliance to offer such compliments to one of their Allied races. Chris wondered how much of that had to do with skill, and how much had to do with protecting one's territory against potential threats. The humans were not alliance, which made it easier to offer them grudging respect even in front of other alliance races.
Nonetheless, he couldn't help but wish they were more like the Lucians.
It would be nice to have formidable opponents who actually understood the great game the way his people did.
Such wishes are unbecoming of me, unfortunately.
*****
Sorilla looked around the small home, clearing her cloak just enough to let in the heat from the crackling fire.
There's an irony in the choice of planets that seems to be lost on the people of Arkana and Allahu, she thought with a hint of disguised humor. That the Muslim ship would locate a world so much more like northern Europe while the Christian Fundamentalist one happened upon something closer to the Middle East... maybe there is a God, and He has a sense of humor.
She had never been particularly religious, and while she had seen enough in her life to make her occasionally wonder if there were higher powers... she was also educated enough to know that, in a nearly infinitely complex world, a miracle usually... if not always... merely meant that you hadn't factored in all the variables that could explain it.
God and Devils, or quantum variance... either were good enough explanations for everything she had seen in her life as a soldier, though there remained a great deal of debate over which people felt more reassured by.
For herself, Sorilla had long since decided that if God did exist, then He or She were obviously situated outside the human frame of reference. She knew enough about science to know, that being true, it would mean that God was inherently exempt from scientific analysis. One could not test what did not exist within your frame of reference.
That only left faith.
Sorilla took a deep drink from the steaming cup of tea as she pondered the decorations in the small home, most of them linked to the owner's religious observance, and wondered... not for the first time, whether faith was enough... a good thing... or possibly the first and most evil notion humanity had invented.
I suppose I'll learn that when I die, if there's anything to be learned then.
Until that day came, Sorilla had a job to do.
"Thank you for the tea," She said as she drained the cup to the halfway point, keeping it cupped in her hands in order to gather the warmth as best she could.










