War Fleet: Resistance

guessed he was getting past his years.” Although admittedly, Olsen found it difficult to tell the difference between a young Arstan and an old one. Reptilian skin just never seemed to age.
“Only for the last three months, sir,” Novak said. “But I do feel he might be our best course of action.”
“If I may, Captain,” Rob said. “It’s clear this is the course of action supported by Admiralty AI. My update has included pertinent information on Kandora and the planet’s orbital defenses. Infiltration is reasonable given our limitations.”
“Our limitations being we’re a mining ship ill-equipped for such a mission,” Olsen said sarcastically.
“Precisely,” Rob said.
Olsen glanced at Novak, but her face was proving as hard to read as Rob’s. He was clearly being pressed into a course of action, either by Admiralty AI or by Brownstone, and he couldn’t be sure which. Either way, he didn’t have much choice at the moment.
He sighed, rapped his knuckles on the table, and then stood. “Then I guess we have our first lead. Let’s get underway.”

16
The Tapper decelerated from FTL-warp above the Kandora planet of the system by the same name. Once it came into view, Olsen watched the brilliant blue globe drifting closer on the viewscreen. It was dotted with islands, each one a speck at first until their coastlines became visible — silver rims around nests of forest green.
This was the kind of paradise where Olsen had wanted to retire. The Arstans offered their top officials packages to locations like these, while human captains, it seemed, were doomed to years of service in backwater systems. Hence he couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy towards the Arstan fleet admiral.
“This is it,” Olsen said to his crew in CIC. “System scan, Santiago?”
“Not much, sir,” the navigator replied. “A wide-range scan shows there’s a defense station in orbit.”
A single defensive station, just as Rob had predicted.
“Location?”
“Best guess is it’s on the other side of the planet.”
Olsen shook his head. “Can’t we know for certain?”
“I wish it were that easy, sir,” Santiago said. “But when there’s a large body between us and them, we can only make estimates through bouncing EM beams off the surface. And we don’t know the topography of the terrain, particularly under the surface of the oceans.”
“Could you at least give me an estimate of how far away it is? How long would it take for it to reach us?”
Santiago scratched the back of her head. “I’d say we have a few hours, sir. But it’s a wild guess.”
Olsen nodded and turned to the cyborg, who was standing with his white hands interlaced behind his back. “Any further information, Rob?”
“Negative, sir. Data is limited to orbital detection. We haven’t visited this planet in 234 years.”
Olsen punched a button on his armrest display to open up a channel on the intercom. “Chang, how are the repairs on the Extractor going? Is she fit to fly?”
“Ninety percent done, sir. But I wouldn’t recommend sending the shuttle out until—”
“Okay, Chang, I’ll rephrase the question. Can the ship fly right now?”
“Affirmative, sir,” Chang said after a momentary pause. “It’s only half refueled, but that should be plenty for a trip to the planet and back.”
“Let’s just hope it doesn’t run into any enemy fire. Kota, get your men ready, and Redrock, board the Extractor and take her in.”
Both the pilot and the Marine sergeant gave their affirmatives, and Olsen once again looked up at the planet, hoping that the Marines and Redrock could retrieve the Arstan official before the defense station reached them. Because regardless of the skill of his crew, a small mining ship wouldn’t stand a chance against a fully-stocked Arstan military space station.
“Rob, estimated time until they’re planetside?”
“Twenty minutes, sir.”
“Very good.”
One thing Olsen could say for the cyborg was that he’d taken his demotion far better than any human XO ever would have. Olsen glanced at Novak, who was also staring emotionlessly at the screen, her posture straight. Then he turned to Santiago. “Send a feed from the Extractor to the screen in my ready room. I want to be able to watch the approach to the planet from its own camera while I’m in there.”
“Sir?”
Olsen stood and turned to Novak. “Commander, join me.”
Without waiting for a response, he left the CIC by the side door that went directly into his ready room, returning the guard’s salute on the way out.


17
Olsen had just sat down when Novak arrived on the other side of his desk and took the lone seat. He didn’t often invite officers into his ready room, and he couldn’t help but imagine Sean’s hologram sitting right where Novak sat. He tried to chase the awkward image out of his head.
Novak sat with one leg folded over the other, eyes focused on the overhead viewscreen. She’d steepled her hands underneath her chest, and she didn’t wriggle, despite how cramped this room was. Olsen wondered what she was feeling, or if she even felt anything at all. Rumor had it that on the Wilson, they trained you to push all your emotions away, just like a cyborg.
“Any idea what’s on my mind?” Olsen asked her.
Novak looked genuinely perplexed. “None, sir. You’ve indicated we need to get acquainted, but I don’t know what information you wish for us to share.”
“You’re now my second-in-command. It’s good to know those you’ll be working close to, don’t you think?”
“I agree, sir. But I don’t know what there is to say in my circumstances. I can reveal little about my time onboard the Wilson, and I know nothing of my life before it.”
Olsen nodded. Just as he’d expected. “Then perhaps we should talk more about opinions. You must have some. Tell me, what’s your impression of me?”
Novak studied Olsen for a moment with a glazed look in her eyes. “With all due respect, I don’t know what you’re looking for me to say, sir. I’ve only just met you.”
“Yes, but I find it hard to believe you conducted such an in-depth study of