Stars, Hide Your Fires: The Abyssal Void War, #1

By James C Rocks

A four-year war has raged across the colonised worlds of The Extent. Nations reel from violence and betrayal and the Skean Republic stands alone. Despite fierce diplomatic negotiations, tensions rise while, bordering the vast region of space known as The Abyssal Void, the conflict threatens the nation of Akatsu.

 

A young, wealthy socialite and ex-assassin has grown up on Hiroshi and now lives in the famed floating city of Yori. Working for Akatsu's secretive science team, Kagaku-sha Chimu, she strives to save her planet from the hated United Colonial Systems. Accompanied by the loyal, catlike Jira, she plays a dangerous game in which her friends and her city are the potential collateral. The very future of her world is at stake.

 

In the middle of the Abyssal Void, at Port McKinley, Acting Captain Kurt Bergstrom is about to graduate. Young and inexperienced, he has little idea the Akatsu are preparing to strike or of the bitter price he, his friends and his family will have to pay. It will be a baptism of fire, engulfing the stars, destroying his humanity and forging him into a weapon his enemies will not soon forget.

 

The first of two, "Stars, Hide Your Fires" will take you to the stars: an alternate future, a galaxy collapsing into war and humans doing what humans do best.

• Language: English
• Publisher: James C Rocks
• Release date: Apr 3, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215769331

James C Rocks

I am a happily married Brit with two daughters living in the south of England. I’ve been reading science fiction since I was thirteen and it was from it that my love of science sprang. Science fiction is mind-expanding stuff and led to my degree in biology, a career in science and an eventual shift to computing. Science fiction made me a geek, a geek who loves to read, to write, to watch movies and experience science fiction any way I can. I’ve created and managed science fiction websites almost since the internet began (yes, I’m that old), starting with gaming guides and later recognising their potential for role play and storytelling, fiction based on and around gaming universes. I write as time allows, between local work, chores and so on and “Stars, Hide Your Fires” is the first fruit of my labours, the first of two books of “The Abyssal Void War”. There is a long way to go, but I’ve written a lot of the second book. I am also involved in a second, joint project based on H. G. Wells, “The War of the Worlds”. I hope you enjoy this book and, if you have criticisms, please, can I ask you to let me know? You can contact me via my website.

Book preview

Hard Lessons

The City of Edo, Hiroshi

May 14, 2791

UGH! STONE GRUNTED, slammed forward into her safety harness straps as her OGAC decelerated heavily seconds before reaching the surface.

Surveying the screens in front of her, she saw that all fifteen ships of the first wave, three squadrons of Falcon Orbital Ground Attack Craft, had made it to the surface undamaged. They had dropped a few minutes earlier from the carrier, IMS Pandora. Speeding low and fast across the grey, dusty surface, she was sure of her decision to drop in full stealth mode, even if it limited the information she had. All she could see of her fellows were their digital images networked directly to her console. They were there but she could see almost nothing on her primary external viewscreen, just a couple of dust arcs curving artistically skyward and settling slowly back in gentle showers, a subtle sign of their passage. The craft swayed gently from side to side, sometimes rising and falling, its terrain-following radar holding it smoothly at fifty metres. A message flashed up on her console. The second wave had launched. Five minutes above and behind them, two more squadrons had begun their descent.

Ahead, she saw huge walls, grey and rugged, the six-kilometre-high walls of the enormous crater and their goal. The craft started climbing the lower slopes and, on her viewscreen, she felt as much as saw the massive crater walls of an unsurprisingly alien landscape close around them. They were zigzagging more now, a swaying sensation as their craft avoided groups of scattered boulders in their path. A dark gash resolved itself ahead, their passage through the wall. Created by an ancient meteor, more recent geological upheavals had twisted it, almost closing the path and morphing it into the treacherous canyon they were to follow.

Metallic glints flashed ahead, likely reflections off gun emplacements protecting the narrow passageway. She wasn't overly worried. STR/BG-1A was heavily armoured, all the craft were and the canyon was the only way into the crater.

'It's the job!' They continued their winding path along the low and treacherous passage.

Status Report, Sergeant? Stone checked the plane's weapons and detection equipment. All the checks came back green.

Just over a minute to canyon, Commander. Speed, one thousand kay. Stealth mode active.

Thank you.

Stone glanced up at Cage's drawl and considered her teammate.

'Older. Much,' she mused, 'Eleven years? Had to take a demotion to become a tech-gunner on the mission. Interesting call sign. Animal? Caged animal? Sounds about right.'

The canyon narrowed, the passage ahead seeming to wind more tightly.

'Time to go to work,' Stone sighed to herself.

Spin up the Gatlings and slow us to five hundred.

Main guns one and two spinning up, Ma'am, Cage nodded at one of his panels, setting speed reduction, half-kay pre, OK?

Just the ticket. Stone threw an unnoticed grin at him, musing that they rarely saw anything of each other off-duty but still unworried as they were tight as a team.

Activate strobes on canyon entry.

Strobes didn't convince Stone. They would increase a craft's visibility but also confused automated sensors. She still found it hard to believe there were nations that had used them on their own civilians to control civil unrest. She hadn't heard of Saxonia doing it.

Stone checked on their primary payload, a half-ton HKA penetrator. All systems were green. Nine of the ships in the first wave carried the penetrators and six of the second wave. The others carried more conventional bomb and missile load-outs.

Stone had been in the navy for six years and felt that she'd been more reckless than not. She was more than mystified why her CO thought she'd make a good leader but a later promotion to Lead Squadron Commander had forced her to wise up. More than that, with tensions increasing across The Extent, she had realised the importance of keeping herself informed on events of the day as it fed into the whys and wherefores of the missions she was flying. She understood the need for their attack on the Valentian base.

She wasn't sure what lay beyond the canyon but she could guess and her squadrons needed to win through to its end. If they didn't, they wouldn't be able to launch their payloads. To her, that justified the use of strobes and made any concern she had irrelevant. Which was why her squadrons were in a tortuous and slowly descending canyon, Exercise Sagacity.

Their target, almost dead centre on the thirty-six-kilometre-wide crater floor a kilometre below, was the Valentian forward base, Vulcan. Its reputation was fearsome and Stone knew it wouldn't be long before they found out if it deserved it. Spending long hours studying photographic, video and holographic data from the fleet's stealth drones had her worried. Short on time and preparing to launch, she had only scanned the most recent fleet data from probes that had slipped past Valentian missile platforms a few hours earlier. Six battleships, escorting cruisers and an assortment of destroyers, but her greatest concern was the missile batteries and the kinetic-laser emplacements. Pandora's task force would deal with the orbital missile platforms but the base alone looked formidable and she had seen rows of ordered shapes suggesting significant numbers of defensive fighter squadrons.

She was also concerned about her OGACs and their crews. They had been training on them for almost nine months, eighteen hours of gruelling work each day in both simulators and real Falcons, but this was the first real outing for the advanced aircraft. Hitting dirt a hundred kilometres out, a distance judged to be out of Vulcan's detection range for the stealthed craft, they had headed towards the huge crater protecting the base. They had limited speed because the small moon's gravity was so low. One and half thousand klicks per hour was the practical maximum, even though The Falcon could easily hit twice that. Stone had opted for two-thirds and had slowed them still further as they had approached the canyon.

'Should be fast enough but it'll still leave something in reserve, in case the mission goes south.' Stone smiled wryly.

Stone's trainer had told her The Falcon's optimum attack speed was around three thousand kilometres per hour, so their approach would be well below the optimum attack speed for well-prepared positions. Her gut said otherwise. The Valentian base had never dealt with this kind of attack and The Falcons had the latest stealth tech. Six-variable direction engines and a heavy weapons load-out, Stone just hoped it was enough to catch the Valentians off guard.

A message popped up on Stone's console and she opened a laser comm channel.

"Gemstone to StringBag One. Pandora and her support have engaged the missile defence platforms. Probably be some casualties. Let's make this count. Take 'em up to a hundred, straighten up and follow us in."

Stone turned to Cage. Relay to the other squadrons, Sergeant, and get ready to pile it on when we exit the canyon.

Yes, Ma'am, He nodded.

Stone's craft had the lead at the head of the column. On her screen she saw the digital silhouettes of her squadron's perfect arrowhead collapse gracefully to single file behind her. A nest of Viperidi guns opened up as her Falcon began a complex series of evasive manoeuvres, weaving in amongst its fellows, zipping sideways, rolling up, over, back and down. It was a fast dance, with rapid switches aimed at confusing enemy gun sensors. Three more Viperidi nests opened up on the squadron.

Cage sent warnings back to the trailing squadrons as The Falcon shook, buffeted by flak.

Tough old bird, isn't she? Cage growled as Stone surveyed her readouts. No damage.

'The advantage of flying an armoured bathtub, I guess.' She grunted in response. Both crew members were thoroughly familiar with their craft's capabilities but stayed alert. Flak would have to explode virtually on top of them to do any real damage. 'Little more than an armoured cage built around a couple of Gatlings.'

The kinetics, high-speed Gatlings immobile with respect to the craft, were rapid-spinning units aimed by manoeuvring the ship itself and could fire staggering numbers of armour piercing five-centimetre slugs, a steel jacketed storm against which little could stand.

Dust from the canyon floor obscured Stone's view but, even without visual, her instruments showed the closing canyon and their protecting Viperidi nests. The flack lessened as the squadron moved inside the guns' minimum range and, as they passed over, dropped clutches of bomblets.

'Won't benefit my crews that much,' she shrugged, 'but it might make it easier on the guys coming up behind.'

Darkness closed around them, The Falcon's scanners guiding them, light from explosions and strobes seeming to guide the ship.

Top engine sliced, Commander, the communicator squawked, "nano-fibre. Five engines still operational. STR/BG-1C responds AOK."

Damnation! Stone swore and thumbed the comms override. "StringBag One, all units! Get closer to the canyon floor! Fibres! Reduce speed, three hundred."

Stone had to concede that had been a smart move and imagined the carbon-fibres the Valentians had strung across the canyon. Undetectable to an attacking force but with passages through it only the defenders knew. She also knew it was costly to install and difficult to maintain and reckoned it would be patchy, maybe even non-existent, at lower levels. Her squadron hugged the canyon floor dangerously, giving them less chance to avoid rising rocks. It helped that the canyon was descending.

The flak stopped and, ninety seconds later, the canyon walls opened out again and the squadron burst back into full stellar light.

Deactivate the strobes, Sergeant.

Yes, Ma'am.

Ahead, Stone could see several domes, masts and the masses of what looked to be docked ships. It looked serene, almost peaceful, but it focused Stone on the mission. They were here to disturb the peace, to destroy as many of the enemy ships as they could.

Don't reckon they expected this kind of attack! Loiter around the crater edge, clockwise, keep us below one thousand, relay to Squadron Two. Let's take a closer gander, shall we? Magnification fifty, please Sergeant.

Yes, Ma'am. He increased the craft's speed, reconfiguring the craft's defences and stealth to match the crater walls they were soaring past.

Stone stared through the viewscreen, aware the image wasn't real. Falcons were heavily armoured with no view ports and the distant view was a simulation, a construct based on data from hundreds of tiny holocams embedded in the hull. On the plus side, it enhanced the views with the small craft's computer overlaying information in and magnified the view. The result was a close-up of the base's central dome, masts, fuel depots and many of the defensive assets. Stone's mind switched to analytical mode as she stared at the silhouettes of several battleships and their supporting docks.

'And conveniently labelled too,' she grinned.

We're taking some fire, small-scale-stuff. Primary targets identified and selected and, ah, Squadron Two is in, Ma'am. They are proceeding anti-clockwise. Cage studied his screens, the glow from the displays casting a green light over his face. Squadron Three is through. We're good to go.

We want to avoid the base itself. Too heavily defended. The computer has established optimum ingress. AOK. Stone flexed her shoulders, send 'Saddle Up', targeting data and point us towards the docks. Give it the best you can, Sergeant.

Stone watched as Cage reoriented the craft, turning her towards the docks. Confirmations came back and Stone checked her console to ensure that all fifteen craft were on target. Digital images headed inwards from three directions. Readouts had most ramping up to one and half thousand kilometres per hour.

Tally Ho! She murmured.

At the speed they were travelling, close to escape velocity for the small moon, the computer informed them they would be in firing range in forty seconds. Closing on the docks, Stone had Cage alter the angle of The Falcon's engines, increasing lift and preparing the craft to launch their missile at the battleship now plain in front of her.

'Gonna launch our baby right down the throat of that Mother...' Stone concentrated on the information displayed before her.

Out of the corner of her eye, Stone saw STR/BG-1B, Coal Scuttle and Salmon, pull ahead as they zeroed in on The Rōmulus.

Contact! There you are! Stone's voice was cold and precise.

Targeting information appeared on Stone's main screen and she stared at the pride of the Valentian navy, The Vesuvio.

You're mine. Cage? Open the bays, we're going tactical.

Yes, Ma'am.

The Falcon rose higher, her engines compensating as Cage prepared to hold the craft stable for the penetrator's launch.

'Forty kilometres. Thirty-five. Thirty.' Stone counted down as heavy fire rose from Vesuvio, from nearby Rōmulus and another cruiser, The Tiber. The Falcon shook again and she smelled something acrid, burning. Cage dealt with it quickly.

Mud launches detected, targeting enemy missile emplacements and direct threats. Several fighters have launched. Cage drawled as he turned the craft. A stream of kinetics stretched and an incoming missile exploded enthusiastically as Cage loosed a pair of ground busters at the originating silo.

Bingo! Targets squished.

Good splash, Sergeant, Stone acknowledged to a barely perceptible nod from Cage, his concentration focused on the threats ahead.

Secondary targets. Fuel depot and silo. Fifteen and nineteen degrees starboard. Cage was emotionless. Permission to engage, Captain?

Engage, missiles only. Stay on target.

Yes, Ma'am. He gestured, bright flashes evidence of the missiles streaking past the cockpit from the craft's rear launchers.

Four birds homing, he paused, three confirmed hits, silo and fuel depot destroyed. Two birds remain.

Well done, Sergeant.

'There are times I love my job.' Stone grinned to herself.

Fifteen kilometres. The communicator squawked again.

Volcano and Shaman are down. They've bailed.

Damn! Good luck, chaps. Stone whispered.

Twelve kilometres. Streaks of fire shot from the closing aircraft, defensive flak and laser fire intensifying.

Nine kilometres. A blinding flash ahead.

What the hell? One of ours?

"Falcon down. The communicator hissed against static, STR/BG-1B. Coal Scuttle and Salmon. No evidence of bail."

Fuck! God speed guys!

Six kilometres. Flak explosions bracketed the small craft and lasers sang past its hull but it was clear the Valentians were finding targeting them difficult. Again, she smelled acrid smoke, this time from a panel to Cage's left. Stone ordered Cage to bring The Falcon up to firing height and, seconds later, released the craft's penetrator. Cage jinked The Falcon up and away from the missile and a brief glare told them both that the missile's engines had ignited. It sped into the distance.

"Gemstone to StringBag One. Mission objectives complete. We're out of here." She closed the communication channel and turned to monitor the missile's progress.

Full burn, Sergeant.

Yes, Ma'am. Second wave is in.

Thank you, Sergeant.

Stone tracked their missile towards its target, full 3V and tactical, thanks to cams and sensors mounted both on their craft and on the missile. Cage ramped all six of The Falcon's engines up to full power, slamming Stone back in her seat.

And while you're at it, she hissed through gritted teeth, ditch the rest of our shit.

Yes, Ma'am, Cage's voice sounded strained. Stone didn't need to confirm her order. She heard multiple launches as Cage fired off their last two missiles at a destroyer several kilometres away and dropped their remaining cluster bombs on a tidy-looking row of fighters far below.

Their Immersaline suits inflated as The Falcon sped upwards and, as they crossed the thousand-metre upper threshold of the craft's action envelope, there was a bright flash. The screen dulled, the inevitable electronic response to the blinding actinic glare of an atomic explosion.

Splash one battleship!

Stone tried to punch the air and failed against the savage g-forces, settling for a hoarse yell, got the bitch! You ain't gonna be comin' after our ships no more!

Reckon, Cage nodded, must have scored a direct hit on the reactor.

Yeah! Got the job done! Stone registered momentary surprise at Cage's lack of reaction. It was just his way. OK. Relay tactical info to the others, then get us the hell outta here.

Data transfer started, Ma'am. As the Commander suggests, initiating 'getting the hell outta here' manoeuvre. Cage turned his face and finally grinned at Stone as their small craft rocketed upwards at over two and half thousand klicks.

Minutes later, as they slid into IMS Pandora's massive shadow...

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END PLAYBACK

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Kikuma Kishi watched, a half-smile on his face, as six students leaned back, stretching to ease their tired and aching muscles in the training room's low light. He touched a button and their chairs slid away from the simulators on AESRA cushions to settle onto their fixed supports.

From the raised dais in front of them, Kishi relaxed in a worn looking old leather chair. It had been one of his favourites and he'd had it adapted for class, with a tablet mounted just above the right arm. Staying silent, he allowed his students the needed time to readjust to reality. A few moments later, to the press of more buttons, the room brightened and a large wall screen lit to display statistics on the battle they had just experienced.

Exercise Sagacity, otherwise known as The Battle of Vulcan. Kishi spoke in slow, measured tones to allow the students additional recovery time. "A battle you experienced thanks to the Saxon habit of downloading pilot PAs after missions and the hacking skills of some of our, ah, friends over at Bunrui Jigyōbu."

Kishi watched with wry amusement as several students shook their heads, still fuzzy from their immersive experiences.

"The orbital part of the battle, Saxon and Valentian, fighting at distance. With the Valentian missiles now known to be older tech, the Saxon fleet suffered only minor damage and relatively few fatalities. The ground attack was almost as successful, with fourteen penetrator launches recorded and twelve hits for the cost of several captured or killed OGAC crews. The massive damage to the Valentian forces, and the associated personnel loss, made it an overall success for the Saxon military and an enormous boost to their morale,"

Kishi paused before asking, So, what have we learned from this, ladies and gentlemen?

Sir? A cough preceded the word.

Kishi peered over the top of his anachronistic spectacles, flashing a frozen smile at a raised hand he knew only too well. He nodded at Okuta to continue.

You said 'overall' when the Saxons destroyed or damaged four Valentian battleships, two cruisers and several other ships, losing only three, Okuta glanced at the class screen, sorry, four light bomber-class ships and some of their crews. Wouldn't it be an absolute victory in anyone's book?

Kishi looked at Sergeant Okuta, the youngest member of his class and the only non-commissioned officer to attend one of his courses.

A good question, Okuta. Kishi swept his gaze across the rest of the class, commissioned officers all, favouring them with a brief glare. "In terms of the battle alone, yes, it was a complete success, nobody can take that away from them. More significant resources might have meant operation was more successful. It was an impressive demonstration of naval air power but ultimately did little to change the balance of power across the region. It gave Wheatley, the Saxon Commander-in-Chief, Sea of Souls, a year's break before the Valentians were back on their feet.

"To be fair to Saxon Naval Command, the original plan envisaged using two carriers instead of the single one used. The Antaeus developed engine problems mere days before the fleet's departure and no other carriers were available. However, they transferred an additional squadron of OGACs to The Pandora. The rest, as they say, is history."

Your assessment of the Saxon action seems overly cynical, Sir? Okuta's curiosity radiated even through her usual expressionless mien.

"Because the Saxons failed to exploit the opportunities, the Battle of Vulcan presented them. They allowed the undamaged battleships, Lyskamm and Libertà, to withdraw deeper into Valentian space. They also allowed the Valentians to tow the damaged ships, Karalis, Nuova Fortuna and Rōmulus back to other bases, bases equipped with big docks capable of repairing battleships. What could they have done?"

Mounted a second attack, Sir? She gestured at the large screen, the missile platforms were all but destroyed. Kishi nodded his acknowledgement of her quick answer as he turned to another student, Susumu Daigoku, who had raised his hand.

Daigoku?

Could the Saxons have set a trap, Sir? Daigoku seemed uncomfortable, perhaps positioned some cruise-bombers along the expected route for the undamaged battleships?

Good answer, Kishi smiled. However, there is something you're missing. I'll give you a hint. Something they could have done before when planning Sagacity.

More ships, Admiral? Okuta's low tones broke ahead of the disappointed Daigoku, thinking much the same, "The Valentians were clearly unprepared for an attack of this type so an additional carrier, more OGACs, could have hugely increased the damage to the facilities, even attacked the base itself. Such action might even have removed the Valentians from the war altogether."

Excellent Okuta, excellent. Kishi kept his expression neutral as he thought briefly about Okuta. She was undoubtedly the best student in the class, possibly the best he had ever had since the classes had been running.

Thank you, Sir. Kishi paused for several seconds as she considered her next words. I think I need to do more research on this, the young woman didn't smile, he couldn't remember a time when she had. There was no smugness in her expression and Kishi threw another wintry smile in her direction before turning back to Daigoku who nodded in disappointment, an acknowledgement of Okuta's more rapid answer.

Daigoku?

I was going to say something similar, Sir. Kishi smiled wryly as he watched the class's second-best student struggle to think of another explanation until he slumped back in his seat in resignation.

Nothing? He addressed his attention to the class, any further questions?

Yes, Sir, Daigoku seemed uncertain. Could the Saxons have used atomics?

They could. Kishi weighed his reply, however the public attitude towards nuclear weaponry remains negative because of the damage and horrific injuries resulting from their use in the Amaranthine. Yes, even today there is occasional use of atomics, for example, when a damaged enemy ship refuses to surrender, remaining behind to prevent the pursuit of its fellows. A nuclear bomb in its guts will ensure it is out of action and pretty conclusively end its resistance. Nuclear missiles are also a useful, though expensive, method for dealing with orbital defence platforms. However, public distaste for nuclear weaponry limits their use. He shrugged, most destructive weapons remain HKA based.

It's war, Sir.

Indeed Daigoku, it's war, Kishi sighed, and, as we all know, once wars start, the rules, the conventions and most people's rights evaporate. Any more?

There were no more questions, just a few coughs.

After a few moments, Kishi stood to leave but, as the students made ready to return to their rooms, he turned back, a sly smile on his face.

I have transferred the simulations and several other resource files to your work areas. Including the planning details for Exercise Sagacity, tactical information along with several personal records and recollections of the pilots involved in the operation. His smile widened at the looks of alarm and the chorus of groans from the class. Only Okuta showed any enthusiasm.

"Take the weekend but, by Tuesday morning, I want to see a detailed outline of a hypothetical attack on Port McKinley, the United Colonial Systems base in the Aumakua system. Dismissed."

Grinning to himself, Kishi headed out of the building towards a waiting car as he looked forward to the Bunrui Jigyōbu graduation ceremony he was to attend.

* * * * *

Fifteen minutes later, helped out of the car by its uniformed driver, Kishi stepped on to the wide paved area in front of Edo Memorial Hall. An honour guard welcomed him. Six elite Bunrui Jigyōbu soldiers escorting him up the steps towards the massive Gothic structure.

Passing through the wide-arched doorway, he glanced around. The foyer was stunning, with massive marble columns supporting a domed ceiling painted with a beautiful copy of Michelangelo's, Creation of Adam. At least, he assumed it was a copy. To Kishi's knowledge, the original was still in the Sistine Chapel in Rome on Old Earth and he had heard nothing about its removal.

The sumptuous carpeting of the foyer followed the marble stairways as they curved up on either side of the foyer, stained glass windows rising next to them. They had gone overboard with decorations, littering the place with sculptures, busts of famous military figures, city councillors and others to whom the huge city owed its heritage. Pictures and other works of art, famous or infamous Akatsu, both military and civil, decorated the walls.

However, to Kishi's mind, the most impressive piece was a central silvered sculpture, twenty metres long and three high, of the first Earth generation ship, The Kusanagi-no-Tsurugi, the ship that had kick-started human expansion into space. The Tsurugi, launched in nineteen-twenty with a cargo of two thousand young men and women, had made the trip to Alpha Centauri's, Rigil Kentaurus in a mere fifty-six years. Some of the original crew had even survived the journey though most were second or third generation. Finding a wealth of planets, the Tsurugi's descendants had renamed the stars and started terraforming. The ship itself was no more, she had been purposefully crash-landed on Higuchi a few years after arrival. The colonists had cannibalised her components, converting them for use on the inhospitable world. Today, terraformed and with massive population increases aided by birth, embryo banks and centuries of hyperspace immigration, the Akatsu home systems centred on four planets, Hiroshi, Hayashi, Higuchi and Hattori. None of which added to or distracted from the beauty and stunning detail of the sculpture. Kishi's only regret, as he leaned up against a heavy steel barrier, was that he wasn't able to touch it.

Turning his attention to the event, Kishi saw a multitude of people, both military and student - men, women and children he assumed to be relatives of the graduates. As his gaze swept around the foyer, he spied the familiar faces of his contacts, Major Itsuko Ishizaki and Captain Ryūō Umemoto. They came to attention, saluting as he walked up to them.

At ease, Major, Captain. Thank you for meeting me here, Kishi gestured at the sculpture. Absolutely beautiful!

Vice Admiral Kishi, Bowing as custom demanded, Ishizaki answered, Yes, Sir. I agree!

Brushing past a seemingly unmoved Umemoto, Ishizaki indicated an arched doorway into a large open hall. This way then, to the Great Hall, Admiral. I will show you to your seat.

Kishi gazed around the crowded hall, reckoning five hundred people already present, with more wandering in to occupy the remaining seats. He sat where Ishizaki specified and glanced curiously around the hall. To one side he saw a dais, lower than the one on which he and his fellow officers sat, with seats arranged in three rows of ten.

'Presumably for the graduating students?' Kishi found his suspicions confirmed as thirty smartly dressed youngsters, the new Bunrui Jigyōbu graduates, seventeen men and thirteen women with shaved heads, entered to take their seats.

Major Ishizaki checked his portable speech cue, coughed, then stood to walk with military precision to the centre of the dais. Neither venue nor event was large enough to warrant holographic projection but they were broadcasting a signal and he saw several people paying more attention to small three-dimensional replicas of Ishizaki. Standing behind the podium, he spoke to the attentive graduates as Kishi's attention wandered around the hall.

His gaze swept across a young Bunrui Jigyōbu guard, standing at ease near the hall's edge and a sickening, déjà vu-like, wave of familiarity hit him. Shaken, he couldn't place her and, though unable to see any details through the guard's dark and protective visor, he stared for several seconds until her head moved. Kishi could feel her, the guard, staring back. Forcing his gaze elsewhere, he resumed his abstract analysis of the hall, making sure his eyes roved anywhere but where the strange yet familiar guard stood. His jitteriness faded as the minutes passed.

And with no further delay, Ishizaki's introduction lasted only five minutes before nodding towards Kishi. I will hand over to our guest of honour, Vice Admiral Kikuma Kishi.

There was a smattering of applause, even a few coughs, as Kishi walked forward to the podium and Ishizaki stepped back.

Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen, Kishi focussed on the graduates. He could feel the young guard at the edge of his mind.

Thank you for the enthusiastic welcome He smiled. A few laughed along with him.

"I confess to an inclination to ramble, so I will do my best to keep this short and, with that in mind, I hope you won't mind if I address my comments to our recent graduates.

Since receiving my invitation to be the guest of honour for this ceremony, I have wondered what I would say. What important lessons I can, in the few minutes available, pass on to you? The simple fact is I can't and don't plan to try. He paused, allowing a ripple of murmurs flowing around the hall to face before continuing. "At least not in any direct sense.

"Very little of my experience can be of real relevance to you. You already have better resources at your disposal and you've spent considerable time with the right kinds of people to advise you in such respects.

"Those who have met me know I am a devotee of the ancient Greeks and it is to one of them, Heraclitus, that I turn for my first piece of advice. 'There is nothing permanent except change'. Our world is one of continuous change. Technology is outdated before it hits our desks and society is a moving, living force ebbing and flowing around us. With that in mind, I urge our young graduates to remain aware, things change and not always for the better.

"My second piece of advice is to recognise time as a precious commodity, perhaps the most precious commodity. Why waste it living as others want? You have graduated, you have shown your potential, you are clever enough to pass the set exams, you have a modicum of skill and a unique set of talents. An Old Earth philosopher and teacher aboard the British Imperial Ship Hibernia, name of Shaw as I recall, once said, 'The reasonable man adapts himself to the world, the unreasonable one persists in trying to adapt the world to himself. Therefore, all progress depends on the unreasonable man.' Old Skean sexism aside, it is crucial that you live your life the best way you can but be unreasonable, change the world to fit your needs.

"My third is by Demosthenes, yes, another ancient Greek, who said, 'Small opportunities are often the beginning of great enterprises.' Be aware of the huge, the disastrous, the impressive but don't overlook the small as they might present opportunities you never knew existed. Think of your life as a set of interlocking building blocks. Alone perhaps insignificant but together they can assume greater significance and potentially be of real use. Always remember, from tiny acorns, mighty oaks grow so pay attention to detail.

"My last piece of advice is to remember that we all die. You can't really control how or when you die, you can only control how you live. Make your life count for something.

Upon which note, after I've made a few presentations, I shall finish.

A few hours later, after they had eaten, Kishi wandered over to the bar to see if they had anything worthwhile, perhaps a decent whisky. He had left Ishizaki and Umemoto talking to some other officials and investigated the possibilities the bar might offer, perhaps something with a little more character.

As the server handed him a large Braeriach, he froze, the glass held halfway to his mouth and turned straight into the sharp gaze of the young guard he had connected with earlier. She carried her helmet in her hand and saluted as she introduced herself.

Admiral? During the ceremony, I got hit by a feeling. Something told me you wanted to talk to me?

Kishi stood silently for several seconds before completing his stalled arm movement and taking a sip from the glass. He felt the warmth of the whisky course down his throat, as the guard nodded to the barman, who served her a pale green drink.

Clearly a regular, Kishi mused, the young guard nodding appreciatively as he gestured over the bar to pay for her drink.

Her direct approach had shocked him. He couldn't explain his earlier wave of dizziness, not in any logical way, but the feeling of déjà vu remained. Yet he was sure he hadn't met her before. There was only the familiarity and that something was pushing him towards her, to talk to her.

Yes, finally, Kishi returned the salute. I have some questions. My first is a request for confirmation, Lieutenant. Are you in any way related to...

If I were, I wouldn't admit to being so, she cut across his words with an expression of forced neutrality. If you wish to know more, Sir, you can look at my records.

Wanly, Kishi smiled, aware she had bested him. His clearance wouldn't grant access to Bunrui Jigyōbu's security files and she knew it.

Thank you, Lieutenant. Despite their minor clash, he warmed to the strait-laced young woman, "if you're unwilling to confirm your identity, will you tell me how you came to enlist in the Bunrui Jigyōbu?"

She nodded, Yes Sir, though I must keep it brief. My next assignment demands I be across town before midnight. Can we sit for a few minutes?

They occupied an empty table, a darkened corner that others seemed to avoid.

"I had