Incursion Vector

014

 [▲] Gagarin Shipyards, Sol Sector

"I hear you got handed a new toy. A new fast toy. A new fast toy with a cool acronym."

Nim grinned at Sparrow's smallish smirking face on her computer screen. "And just how do you know that?"

"You think I wouldn't check up on my apprentice after we get word you're moving out a full week ahead of us?" retorted the Major with an indignant sneer. "Give me a little credit, MacNamara. That, and they promoted me to the illustrious rank of lieutenant colonel, so I get all the good feeds now. Plus... paperwork." After making a disgusted grunt he shifted positions and the backdrop behind him changed from an empty hangar to a row of lockers. "Seen her yet?"

"Not yet. We're just hitting the Jovian well."

"Ah bugger." He gave a loud sigh of disappointment. "Well, send me pictures of what you paint her with. Don't think I won't be checking my com later for them either. And give the rest of Methuselah our love and the love of Loonies."

"Roughneck and Loonies say hi guys," announced Nim. The members of her fight that were still awake either waved or mouthed 'tell them hello.' She looked down at her screen. "They say hi back."

"Brings a tear to my eye, how fast you've all grown up!" said Sparrow with a mock sniffle of sorrow. "Catch you on the dark side, MacNamara."

"Take care, Lieutenant Colonel."

"Smartass," retorted the man, sticking his tongue out at her. "Sparrow exit channel."

Nim sat back in her seat and stuffed her computer back into the front pocket of her jumpsuit. It had taken a full day to say thanks and goodbye to all of Damien's family; just when they thought they had made their rounds a new relative literally drove out of the forest, some distant third cousin or nephew-twice-removed who'd gotten word of his departure and driven down from the more remote outposts on the Retreat to wish him and the whole flight good luck and godspeed. After picking up Leo at Hubble Station they had immediately left for Gagarin and were going to be a full day early. None of them had seen much point in lingering around delaying the inevitable.

She had already gotten a secure text-only message from the project lead of Baskerville, some lab coat commando who hadn't bothered to spell out his name, just the initials CR. They were supposed to meet up in the starboard hangar of the Heinlein once she was done with "whatever you people do when you get back to your ships." For some reason she was getting the distinct feeling he was going to be very annoying.

To his credit Keiji hadn't said anything about the Baskerville project being the one that Aries had been flying for when it killed him. They were all a few hours out from learning that particular bit of information, though, and it would probably be Calli first. She always did her background research on anything she was going to be put in charge of tracking across an engagement sphere, and the SIF was the one vessel in the fleet which she hadn't memorized the specifications for by her fourth year.

Then the "are you okay with this?" questions would start coming. And she would lie and say she was fine and keep lying until eventually it became the truth—or until Leo cornered her alone and used his stare of morality to guilt her into telling it for real. Nim would tell her friends anything they asked except how she really felt. Nothing good would come of telling them half the time she woke up she expected to see Shelke in the bunk across the room shoveling couscous and garlic slices down her maw, or how whenever she had an exceptionally impish idea she would look around for Seig, expecting him to be there with the exact same thought and ready see if they could get away with it. Or of how ghoulish she felt now as a sibling having to be anywhere near one of the fighters that had become her brother's cold coffin.