by J. N. Chaney
Even after the fire receded into smoke, however, the tremors only seemed to grow harder with every passing second.
“Tremor detected,” said Sigmond. “It seems to be growing.”
“Sigmond,” I said, clearing my throat. “Tell me what in the gods’ names is happening. What do you see?”
“I’m afraid it’s unclear, sir,” said the Cognitive through the shuttle’s main speaker. “My sensors detect possible energy transference deep within the planet’s core, which would suggest it’s preparing for something.”
It clicked for me, then—the rumbling didn’t have anything to do with the alarm the Union soldiers had fired off. The entire planet knew we had been here, and it was about to send us a little parting gift to remember.
18
“Give me something to go on, Siggy,” I said, arms crossed as I glared at the shuttle’s holo. It displayed the ship’s line-of-sight, giving us a looming view of the massive metal planet beneath us. The small shuttle couldn’t even rightly fit the whole planet in view, not from this angle, and the glimmering metal surface instead dominated a good portion of the holo. Titan remained in orbit at a safe distance above the planet, ready to take us and the Nebula Prospect onboard. The former Sarkonian ship blazed toward Athena, quickly closing the gap. Another few minutes, and they would be safely on Titan, as they’d gotten a head start on us.
McCabe flew the shuttle into low orbit, angling us toward the seed colony ship that had brought us back to Earth. As Titan neared on the holo, Athena’s voice piped through the bridge. “The loading bay is ready for you, Captain Hughes,” she said.
I rubbed my eyes, the weight of the day almost too much to bear. “Just get us out of here, Athena. When—”
“Captain!” McCabe interrupted, his voice panicked.
I lifted my gaze in time to watch a massive purple beam erupt from the planet. It tore through space toward Titan, the beam as wide as the Nebula Prospect itself.
“Abort!” I yelled. “Athena, defensive—”
The blinding beam pierced Titan through its heart, the blast carving deep in the center of the ship. Explosions rocked through the vessel, orange and red fire burning through its center. The massive ship tilted and slowly began to spin, spiraling out of control as it fell toward the planet far below.
“No!” I yelled, unconsciously trying to stand even though I was still strapped into my seat. I yanked wildly on the harness until I shook it free. “Athena!”
Ahead of us, the Nebula Prospect abruptly angled away from Titan and the planet below, mirroring the same evasive measures McCabe was now taking as we escaped the planet. A chunk of the metal hull flew through the air as explosions continued to rock Titan, the debris sailing directly toward the Prospect’s current trajectory.
“Nebula, copy,” McCabe said, his voice tense and urgent as he tried to contact the other ship. “Take immediate evasive action to avoid the debris. Look—look out! By the gods, man, dive!”
“Siggy, help them!” I ordered.
“Yes, sir,” said the Cognitive.
The pilot steering the other ship didn’t reply to me or McCabe, but it abruptly changed direction. It spun, flipping upside down as it avoided the debris hurling toward it. With a sudden and violent punch from its blasters, the ship sailed abruptly to the left and raced into the black, away from the planet and finally out of reach of the debris.
“Thank the gods,” McCabe said, briefly squeezing his eyes shut with relief.
“We ain’t out yet,” I snapped, smacking him in the shoulder. “It’s coming for us next.”
“Yes, sir,” he said, quickly snapping to attention as he angled our shuttle clear of the floating metal hurling toward us. With the Nebula Prospect clear of the immediate danger, Titan still hurled toward the planet. The bottom half of the vessel was charred black as it plummeted, the fires within its hull quickly spreading through its oxygenated halls.
“Athena, get out of there!” I shouted. “I know you can salvage this, Athena. You’ve still got defenses that can save you from this.” When no one replied, I slammed my fist on the dash in front of me. “Siggy, can we contact her at all? Is there any connection?”
“Attempting to reestablish communications, Captain,” said Sigmond. “I have the Prospect online and am attempting to bring Titan back as well. We should have the connection as soon as—”
“Captain Hughes,” said Athena, the line crackling as she spoke.
“Athena, retreat immediately!” I commanded. “We will rendezvous with you later. Whatever you have to do, whatever power you have to allocate, just get out of the line of fire!”
“I’m afraid that’s not possible, Captain,” she said calmly. “My engines have been completely disabled. Short of falling toward the planet below us, there’s absolutely nothing I can do.”
“Is your slip drive operable?” Dressler asked through the open line we shared with the Prospect.
“It is,” confirmed Athena.
“Open a tunnel in front of Titan before it crashes,” suggested Dressler. “You can avoid impact with the planet that way, and we’ll follow you through.”
“We would have little to no way of knowing our trajectory,” Athena pointed out, calm as ever.
“It doesn’t matter,” I snapped, refusing to let Athena fall to her death. I was responsible for her being here, and I was determined to salvage this disaster in any way I could. “We’ll figure it out as we go. Athena, do it. That’s an order.”
“I must politely decline Dr. Dressler’s suggestion,” said Athena.
“We ain’t asking, Athena!” I yelled. “You have a way to save yourself, and I ain’t leaving you behind in a fiery explosion on some godsforsaken metal rock! You activate that slip tunnel, and you do it now!”
I had already lost one of my crew today, and I wasn’t about to lose another.
Athena didn’t reply, and for several tense moments as Titan fell to the metal planet below us, I wondered if she had terminated the connection just like Lucia had. To my relief, however, the slip drive activated at the bridge. I sighed with relief and gestured to get McCabe’s attention. “Prepare to take us—”
Instead of opening a slip tunnel in front of Titan, as I had ordered, Athena opened one behind her. The emerald storm of slipspace cut through the void, beckoning us away from danger.
I leaned forward in my seat, furious. “Athena, what do you think you’re—”
“This tunnel will take you back to the exit point for Earth,” she said as Titan careened out of control. “Please hurry,” she added as the line crackled. An explosion rocked through the upper decks of Titan, carving its way through toward the bridge.
“Absolutely not,” I said firmly. “Athena, I ain’t going to say this to you again. You got about three minutes before I—”
“Very well, Captain,” she said, interrupting my tirade. For a brief and blissful moment, I thought she was going to finally comply with my order, and I relaxed into my seat with a hint of relief.
Instead of a slip tunnel opening before her, however, McCabe let out a string of curses as he pressed uselessly on the controls. “Captain, I’ve lost control of the shuttle.”
“What?” I asked. “But we didn’t get hit.”
“I’ve taken control of both your shuttle and the Nebula Prospect,” said Athena, steering both vessels toward the slip tunnel. “You will regain command as soon as you’re safely in slipspace.”
“Enough of this,” I snapped. “Siggy, take control of the ships and Titan. I don’t care if you have to lock her away for a moment, but don’t you dare let her do this.”
“I’m sorry, sir,” said Sigmond. “I’ve been attempting to regain control of Titan, but you must remember that Athena is the one who initially restored me to the empty shell onboard Titan in the first place.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Siggy, you mean to say you’re more loyal to her than me?”
“Absolutely not, sir,” assure
d the Cognitive. “Quite the opposite, in fact. Athena built in overrides when bringing me back online. I’m afraid she has shut me out of Titan quite completely.”
“It truly is nothing personal, Sigmond,” said Athena calmly. “It’s for the best.”
I leaned toward the holo, quickly realizing I needed to change my approach. “Athena, don’t you do this,” I said, pleading with her in my own stubborn way. “You can come back with us. We can save you.”
“I’m afraid we are beyond that now,” said Athena. “My last power reserves were used to open the slip tunnel back toward the rendezvous point with Earth. While I do indeed have some energy remaining, I must immediately revert to low power mode to conserve what little is left. I cannot open another slip tunnel, and with my engines destroyed, neither can I steer away from the planet.” She paused. “I believe this is goodbye, Captain Hughes.”
“No, Athena, just wait a damn second,” I said, my grip instinctively tightening around the armrest as I refused to let this be. “There’s a way out of this. You just have to think. What else—”
“Take care of yourself, Captain,” interrupted Athena, calm as the day I had met her. “I must say, it has been quite a pleasure to operate at your command, even if I must unfortunately disobey this final order. I hope you will understand.”
As Athena steered our shuttle toward slipspace, McCabe no longer in control of the ship, I could only watch as Titan crashed into the metal planet beneath us.
Plumes of dust and debris scattered from the blast as the two orbs struck one another. The collision sent metal and dust into orbit from the force of such a massive ship hitting the solid metal megastructure. Plumes of gray burst from the destructive edges of the vessel, disabling the very boat that had brought us to Earth in the first place.
As the green blizzard of slipspace enveloped us, all I could do was set my head in my hands.
Today had carved a hole in me, and I would carry it with me all the days of my life.
Abigail sat not far from here, on the brink of death. Our largest ship—no, our home—had crashed into enemy territory, lost to the void. And, worst of all, I’d lost two of my crew—Lucia and Athena, both taken without warning.
All in the same day, on the same mission, by the same enemy.
Back in the loading bay on the megastructure, back before all of this mess had started, I’d told Lucia I wasn’t going to let anyone die today over some lines of code or a shiny box.
I had failed in that promise, and I would never get the chance to make it right.
19
True to Athena’s word, McCabe was able to regain control of the shuttle once we were in the slip tunnel. As he steered us through the rippling green storm, I rubbed my eyes and took a moment to regain my composure. Everyone on the Nebula Prospect would have heard the entire exchange and seen Titan crash onto the Celestial-made planet. When we exited slipspace, my crew would need a clear direction and plan of action, and they would look to me for both. Their lives depended on the orders I gave next, as did the lives of everyone currently on or orbiting Earth. I couldn’t hesitate, and I couldn’t let myself be distracted. Not by Athena, and not by Lucia—though grief speared through me all the same at the thought of them both.
“We’re about to exit slipspace, sir,” said Sigmond. “What are your instructions?”
I sighed and leaned back in my chair as the pilot sitting next to me sailed us through the green tempest of slipspace. “The second we’re out, McCabe, dock with the Nebula Prospect.”
“Yes, sir,” said the pilot.
I crossed my arms, debating our choices after that. “Siggy, how much longer until the tunnel to Earth reopens?”
“Upon arrival, we will only have to wait an additional three minutes before the scheduled check-in time with Mr. Malloy.”
At least something was going to go right for me today. “Is the medic bay on the Prospect going to work for Abigail?” I asked.
“Yes, sir, though the medic bays on Titan would have been preferable.”
I gritted my teeth at the stabbing reminder of who we had lost today. Even though I knew Sigmond hadn’t meant anything by it, I chose to ignore the comment entirely. “McCabe, you get Abigail to the Nebula Prospect’s medic bay the second we land. Siggy, have Dressler waiting down there by the time we dock. I know she doesn’t have Octavia’s skills, but it’ll be enough for the moment.”
“Yes, Captain,” McCabe said with a nod as he focused on the swirling green storm before us.
I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees as I worked through the final kinks of the plan. “Once the slip tunnel opens and we establish a connection to Earth, contact Octavia immediately. I want her on the Nebula Prospect, seeing to Abigail immediately. Clear?”
“Yes, sir,” answered the Cognitive. “I’ll ensure they have a medical pod ready for you as well.”
“Don’t you start with me,” I warned the Cognitive. “I’ve got other things to tend to.”
“As you wish, sir,” said Sigmond. “Though I suspect Miss Brie will chase you through the halls with a sedative if you don’t allow yourself treatment.”
I said nothing.
“Approaching the end of the slip tunnel,” said Sigmond, after a short pause.
Moments later, our shuttle cut through into the void, leaving slipspace behind. Without missing a beat, McCabe steered toward the Nebula Prospect, signaling my orders to them as we approached. Knowing he had the commands handled for the moment, I went to check on Abigail. I knelt in front of her and lifted her chin, peering through her visor to find her face unnaturally pale.
“We will be able to revive her, Captain,” assured Sigmond.
“We’d better,” I said, tense and furious.
The moment the shuttle docked with the Nebula Prospect, I unbuckled her harness. Within seconds, McCabe stood before me, ready to take her to safety. I lifted her into the pilot’s arms as the shuttle doors opened, revealing the Sarkonian ship’s small loading bay. He raced toward the medic center with Abigail’s head resting on his shoulder to protect her neck, and I forced myself toward the bridge.
Abigail was a strong woman, too stubborn to die. Now that we were docked, she was in capable hands, and it wouldn’t do any good to fret over her. The next few minutes would determine the fate of Earth and my crew, and I had to be there to guide them through it.
As the doors to the bridge opened, I did a quick survey of those present. Freddie and Petra sat by the holo, an empty seat beside the kid that I could only assume had belonged to Dressler. Leif and one of his soldiers stood by the wall, their arms crossed as they waited for me, but none of Lucia’s people stood on the bridge.
“Where are Lucia’s soldiers?” I asked, concern prickling through me.
“Spread out,” answered Freddie with a nod to the doors off the bridge. “Most are waiting for Lucia in the cargo hold.”
I sighed and crossed my arms, none too pleased with the bad news I had to share with them all. I considered waiting, not entirely certain if it would do to have them in grief while we tried to outrun the enemy.
I finished my scan of the bridge. Rackham sat near the door, his back against the wall, his shirt gone, and a thick bandage wrapped around most of his bare torso. A second bandage covered a good portion of his scalp. His head rolled toward me as he watched me enter, his eyes drooping as they slid in and out of focus. It seemed as though Dressler had given the man quite a few drugs to see him through the next few hours, and he didn’t seem to mind it much.
To my surprise, Rackham’s tech guy stood with his back to a nearby wall, quietly observing everything on the bridge as if he belonged with the rest of the crew. I pointed at the coward. “You,” I said tensely. “Out.” My hand in a fist, I angled my thumb over my shoulder and gestured at the door behind me to drive my point home.
“Me?” The Union soldier pointed to himself in confusion. “It’s not a big ship, Captain. Where should I—”
“Fred
die, Petra, go babysit,” I said curtly, nodding toward the Union’s tech guy.
Rackham sighed, trying to stand despite the drugs pumping through his body and the wounds that had stained the white bandages red. “I suppose I should join my last remaining soldier in—”
“Sit,” I ordered, interrupting whatever noble bullshit he’d been about to say.
After a bewildered pause, Rackham obeyed and plunked himself back on the floor. Petra and Freddie led the other Union soldier out of the bridge, and I shared a brief glance with Rackham. I didn’t rightly know if it was a good thing to let him stay, but it felt right for the moment.
As the seconds until the slip tunnel opened ticked by, I turned to Leif. “I heard what happened,” I said quietly, closing the gap between us. “I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to you in time.”
Leif watched me for a moment with a stoic expression, never moving so much as an inch. Eventually, he nodded without a word, watching the holo and the ship’s empty line-of-sight instead of me.
“How many did you lose?” I pressed.
“Half,” he admitted, his voice breaking at the admission.
I let out a short, frustrated sigh and set my hand on his shoulder in solidarity. We allowed ourselves a brief moment of grief as we waited for the tunnel to open, but I knew it couldn’t last long. Those who had survived our mission still needed us, and we had to remain focused to save them.
“I’m sorry about Athena,” Leif said quietly, finally meeting my eyes.
My grip tightened impulsively on his shoulder. “We’re going to get her back, Leif. Titan, too, one way or another.”
He nodded. “I expected nothing less from you, Captain.”
“Sir,” interrupted Sigmond. “Sensors indicate that enemy ships have arrived back at the Celestials’ planet. They’ve tracked the slip tunnel’s course, and I expect they will be here soon.”
“Cloak us,” I ordered.
“Yes, sir,” said the Cognitive. “Cloaking activated.”