Author's Preface
Perhaps one of the more interesting words in Human Interworld, or English, is the word Fuck.
Out of all of the English words that start with the letter F, fuck is the only one that is called the F-word. It's the magical word; just by its sound, it can describe pain, pleasure, hate, and love.
It falls into many grammatical categories, such as a transitive verb: ' John fucked Shirley'
As an intransitive verb, for instance: 'Shirley fucks'
It is not always sexual, as an adjective, for example: 'John's doing all the fucking work'
As part of an adverb: ' Shirley talks too fucking much'
As an adverb, enhancing an adjective; 'Psstips females are fucking hot'
As a noun; 'I don't give a fuck'
As part of a word; 'Abso fucking lutely'
So train your use of this versatile word before you join training with the Human forces; it will greatly enhance your ability to communicate with them.
— Introduction to Human Language , Chapter 1: Fuck
The hangar bay wasn't a place Admiral Sanders visited often. While in FTL, it was usually transformed into an open fitness and recuperation area for the crew and the ship's Marine detachment. In a battle, it was the center of SAR missions, and in normal operations it was a transport hub.
Now, it was a madhouse. Engineers and technicians had turned it into a construction center for the new Nixtred Frames.
As soon as the schematics were transmitted from Earth, everyone knew the frames would change how battles would be fought. And every ship with a hangar could use them.
Between the columns of half-printed frames and sweating crewmen, chief engineer Jan-Ho Pretorius was testing A-Drives, cursing in his unique Ceres slang. Even a deaf man would have heard him.
"Chief Pretorius, how are things?"
"Kak, the sensors of the fabricators were off and didn't detect that the copper we received was impure. All micro A-Drives and the frames need to be rewound. Aish—"
"Did you order it from Ea-nasir?"
She couldn't help herself; the always-cursing, wound-up Chief was too easy a target.
"Funny— Sir, really funny. I have no clue what donnerse alloy sneaked into that copper ore, but now we've got thirty tonnes in the whole fleet."
The Chief kicked one of the A-Drives.
"I wish we had gotten the schematics before we launched; then we wouldn't have to scrap every piece of goddamn copper."
"Be happy we got them at all. So, how many?"
The Chief looked down at her; like all belt-borns, he was almost a head taller than her.
"How many? Niobe will have twenty by the time we reach Nekoo. The fleet? About five thousand — the pioneers produce the most, of course, and they also have the smelters to purify the copper in their stores."
"Thanks, Chief… get some rest, you look tired."
"Aish…"
Carefully stepping over the spread-out tools and parts on the floor, she made her way back to the CIC.
5,000 frames times 8 missiles. That's a nasty surprise. And Chen-Buckler is preparing thousands more on Nekoo already. The Batract won't know what hits them.
—————
"What the hell happened down there?" Admiral Georgiou had to restrain himself from shouting. He was a Triumvir now, and even when he was an active Admiral, he never shouted.
On the screen, and target of his anger, was Jules Hunter, Director of AIN.
"I don't know, sir. Reports are still flowing in."
"I thought you were leading an intelligence service. How could someone plan something like this… again? And are the guards at the EarthGov Senate sleeping? A year ago it was bombed, and now someone shot a Senator on its steps."
Hunter was known for his stoic demeanor, and Georgiou had to give the man credit — he didn't flinch a bit.
"We knew something was coming, but a direct attack on a Senator, Admiral — you know how hard it is to stop a dedicated guy with a gun. EarthGov security shot the man soon after the incident. He was using spec ops gear. Shooting the Senator from a five-kilometer distance—"
"So, a professional—"
Georgiou grunted. Shooting from that distance… even with aim assist it was a masterstroke.
"— How are the Gerbers?"
"Yes, but at least not one of ours. The Gerbers? André is pissed and ready to shoot someone. He's bringing his ex-wife and the twins to Denmark. Karrn has offered protection in the Embassy complex."
Remarkably good choice. No Human assassin could move there undetected, and it was extremely unlikely that a Shraphen was working with the Oligarchs.
"So, who's in danger now? And how do we react?"
Hunter let out a dry laugh.
"You. Me. The whole Admiralty… Every Senator sympathetic to the Aligned Worlds."
Georgiou sat down. He wanted to take a drink, but his doctor had warned him about his 'cultural alcohol intake.' Bunch of nonsense.
"And how do we react? We tightened security and sent out the Venatores to bust some heads. But you and me know the Oligarchy is hiding in non-aligned countries, and if we don't want to start a war on Earth, there's little we can do."
That wasn't the news Georgiou hoped for. And Kinsey's assassination had opened another problem.
"Kinsey's death comes at the worst moment. He was elected to be Ambassador to the Federation."
Hunter nodded.
"Yes, Sir. And Shore was second place, that's why they tried to kill him too."
Georgiou began to check his papers. He still believed in real paper instead of dataslates. After a few seconds he found Tirpitz 's readiness report.
"Do you think the Senator's ready to jump in? Tirpitz has just finished her shakedown cruise, and Yamato will be ready in a week."
For the first time in the conversation, Georgiou could see real emotion in Hunter's face.
"You want to send an Ambassador to the Federation with two battleships?"
"I'd send him with a fleet if I had one to spare. And yes. First impressions and all — I'm a fan of gunboat diplomacy. If we learned one thing about the Federation, it is that they don't care about their members trying to genocide other species."
Hunter slowly nodded while Georgiou continued.
"And if the Oligarchy tries something here, I want my biggest guns out of their reach… for now."
—————
Karrn growled as he signed the digital form. He didn't know how many he had signed today, but he had lost the feeling in his left hand.
"By the Great Hunters, how many more are there, Shruf?"
"We're at the last stretch, no more than ten, Ambassador."
Karrn had the feeling his chief of staff enjoyed torturing him with bureaucracy.
He growled again.
"The requisitions don't sign themselves, even if you frighten them with your growls, Ambassador."
"But why do I need to request every ship with a separate form? Why can't I request a whole Veyr?"
Shruf shrugged.
"Bureaucracy, Ambassador."
"We're at war!"
"That makes it even more important to follow requisition procedures. You want two whole Veyrs in Sol. This is a massive logistical task. And it lowers Burrow's security."
"Burrow is a burned-out husk. Sanders has fortified it into a ludicrous bastion. And Admiral Russo has doubled down on it. The Shraphen High Command should be happy to get ships out of there."
Stopping himself from a further tantrum, he signaled his chief of staff to hand over the last dataslates.
André's scent reached his nose, so he signed the remaining forms quickly. Passing the dataslates back to Shruf, he pointed at the door of his office.
"Send Gerber in when you go."
"As you wish, Ambassador."
"And cancel my appointments for the afternoon."
"Already done, Ambassador. A Sleipnir is waiting on the roof to bring you and Major Gerber's Pack to your residence."
Karrn nodded thankfully at his chief.
Two years ago I wanted to kill you on sight, now you're the backbone of my administration… times are funny.
As Shruf walked out of the office, two little Humans stormed into it. André's pups.
"Uncle Karrn, Uncle Karrn, we flew in a Sillypnir!"
Danijel, the more outgoing twin, jumped into Karrn's open hands.
"Oh, you did? Were you afraid?"
Vanessa, who had begun to climb on his back, shouted a painfully loud "Nooo" in his ear.
"Get off your uncle, you little monsters. I heard Shruf has candy hidden somewhere, go get him!"
André had walked into the office, behind him Eleri, who had an arm around André's former partner, Sladjana.
The twins ran after Shruf with an infernal, high-pitched scream.
Even the visibly shaken Sladjana smiled for a moment.
André came over to Karrn and surprised him with a hug.
"Hello, old friend."
Karrn smelled fear and desperation come off the spy. And anger, lots of anger. He knew in that moment that Gerber had turned into a wounded animal.
And wounded prey was the most dangerous kind.
—————
Titan. Fucking freezing Titan.
Deputy Assistant Shift Manager, Tech Felipe Neubauer looked out of the window of his quarters.
Another day of methane rain in the pitch-black frozen hell on Saturn's ass.
That wasn't what I dreamed of…
He missed his home, Córdoba.
Working as an off-world tech came with extreme extra pay. And with a two-year rotation on Titan, he would be debt-free. Another two years, and he could build his dream home.
He just couldn't stand another day here.
Opening his locker, he looked at the 3D drawing of his future home, a traditional-style hacienda with a pool and a large garden for the three dogs he wanted.
Then his eyes fell on the other thing. A memory sticker.
"Just stick it somewhere on the server's backplate. It's a program that allows my clients to talk without the AIN snooping around."
The memory of that night on Phoebe Station came back.
The bar, the drinks, the proposal…
2.5 million Euros. Paid in resource ledgers, untraceable. Enough to retire from the Aligned Corps of Engineers, enough to fulfill his dream.
But who pays that much for a backdoor?
Who cares?
He made his decision. In fact, he made his decision three weeks ago, that night at the bar.
Today was the day he had to use the sticker.
Of course he had checked the contents. It was a simple program opening the firewalls of specified ports at certain times.
Basically, if you knew the time, you knew what port to use to get through the system unsupervised.
Simple, efficient, and harmless.
Putting on his uniform, he slid the sticker into a Faraday bag. He had prepared the uniform himself, and he pushed the bag into a pouch behind the Station's logo on his arm, praying the sensors wouldn't find it.
Getting caught would get him sent to Purgatory. The worst prison humanity has to offer.
He shuddered. He had been a tech there for a year… Mercury.
After hiding the sticker, he dressed, calmed his breath, and walked into the hallway.
The Titan Communications Node could be a beautiful place. Just not to Felipe.
The hallway was a gallery around a garden under a cupola, bright light illuminating the park where technicians relaxed in their free time. They even had a volleyball court.
He reached the elevator down to the server and p-p racks. Every p-p relay ended in those subterranean towers, cooled by the ninth circle of hell: the cold of the liquid methane sea.
Nobody saw the fakeness of the place. Bright light that wasn't warm. Weather that never changed. Quarters not bigger than prison cells. Career chances that led nowhere.
I could be a chief engineer on a starship, if those racist assholes didn't hate South Americans…
The guard posted on the elevator just smiled and nodded at Felipe.
Fat, lazy pig with a horrible aftershave. He can sit here in the warmth of the nice garden; I have to ride down hundreds of meters, freezing my ass off…
Entering the elevator, he felt the sensors checking him. The whole ride down was a constant sensor scan.
He had manipulated the sensors during the last maintenance. Carefully calibrated, they caught every test contraband, but shouldn't be able to find the sticker. He could hardly make a test run with it.
Like I'm prisoner and guard at the same time.
The door opened and he entered the Node's command center.
For only a fraction of a second, he regained the true wonder of this place. Four million petabits per second for civilian use, and the same amount again reserved for military and governmental use.
The Titan Communications Node was only eighteen months old, and already the most sophisticated installation of its kind.
And I'm only Deputy Assistant Shift Manager. A nothing. Ten years in quantum physics, nanoelectronic engineering , and EM field stabilization, and they see only a glorified field technician.
Felipe nodded at the other technicians at their stations. Today he had no time for small talk, fearing his nervousness could betray him. In his mind, his left arm patch weighed a thousand tonnes.
Every time he moved his arm, he could hear the bag's sound echoing through his head.
Beneath him, under a glass floor, were the server towers. The white racks stacked hundreds of meters up into round towers surrounded by gangways. Dozens of technicians in thick thermal gear between them.
Fiber cables long enough to connect the Moon with Earth three times ran in thick veins up and down the server racks.
The heart of Aligned Worlds communication.
He went into the airlock and, with a swift motion, pulled the bag out from under the patch and placed it into his thermal gear on the rack.
Getting dressed, he tried to calm himself.
You just place a sticker… Easy.
Server 10-23-A-JZ on the inner systems tower.
His contact wanted the sticker placed on any server on the inner systems tower; he chose this specific one only because it couldn't be seen from the control room's glass floor.
As he climbed down the gangway, some technicians gave him strange looks. It was unusual for him to be in the towers before his fifth coffee break.
Today was a special day.
He was almost at the last staircase when a heavy hand landed on his shoulder.
"Fil? What are you doing in the towers at eight o'clock? Are you sick?"
Tech Kang… the walking, talking small-talk hazard of the station. A moron, sure, but one who would remember Felipe being here at an unusual time.
"Yeah, there was some odd signal interference from the base of the tower on the tenth floor"
The large belt-born technician was one of the guys who liked it here… and who was annoyingly helpful.
"Ohh, need some assistance?"
"No, listen, Sizwe, you go up, prepare some of your belt brew coffee, and I'll join you in a moment."
"Lekker, boss. Thandiwe made sweet rolls, I'll keep some for you."
The fact that this beast of a man had such a sweet wife, here on the station… Moron.
"Yeah, sure. Bye."
Felipe turned around and climbed further down the stairs.
In the distance, he heard Kang start a discussion with another technician, something about a picnic tomorrow in the park.
Sheep.
Server 10-23-A-JZ, sitting on the ground floor of the tower. Fog from CO2 condensation on the walls further concealed him.
Without the servers running and heating the sink that housed the towers, air would liquefy.
Dante was right…
One final look around, and he slid his hand under the server blade. The sticker almost jumped out of his hand — it basically placed itself.
It had the same color as the blade, so it was as good as invisible. Especially with the protective glasses fogging up down here.
Done. I finally did it. I can leave this shithole.
Climbing back up, he allowed himself to dream a bit.
2.5 million in resource ledgers. I could even hire someone to print the house while I'm on my flight home.
He saw technicians sliding down the rails up on the highest section.
Probably another idiot who leaned on something and is now frozen to a wall.
Slightly sweating from the adrenaline and exhaustion, he reached the second floor.
I could become an author in my spare time.
Technicians continued to run down, now even wearing the red overcoats, not the blue ones his shift wore.
What's happening?
Then he saw it. A temperature warning.
How? Did I…?
"Bossman, the cryo pumps stopped working. We need to shut down the servers, or the coolant will blow."
"Stop fucking around and shut them down tower-wide, you moron!"
"Remote access is blocked."
They just wanted open ports; there was nothing dangerous on that sticker…
"Just cut the power. Rip out the power lines if needed."
It was too late. The coolant pipe next to Felipe ruptured under the stress of liquid methane evaporating throughout the system.
A wall of methane hit Felipe, pushing him into the freezing cold metal of tower 3.
The second before his body froze solid, he learned one last important lesson.
Even the fucking explosions on Titan are cold.