by D. M. Pruden
STELLA HUDDLED IN the corner of the cell she shared with a dozen prisoners. None of them had the strength or desire for any level of physical exertion. Extreme hunger and dehydration had finally worn the last of them down. She had no direct evidence, but she feared the small group of people with her were the sole survivors of Scimitar’s crew.
It was all her fault. This was the consequence for underestimating Ulysses Stromm.
She’d foolishly persuaded Pavlovich that she could play Stromm to give him the time he needed. Instead, he and his chief of security had masterfully manipulated her.
According to the plan, she was to string them along, biding for time until Pavlovich’s expected return with the ship. The hope was that the crew would be released to his custody after the captain proved himself a trustworthy ally. Stella played her part, stalling, deflecting, and misdirecting the questions put to her.
Neither she nor Pavlovich took into account their captors’ fanatical obsession with the thing they called the cynosure. By the time she realized the true danger she was in, she was trapped.
She closed her eyes and shuddered. Even the fragments of recollection her mind had failed to block were enough to provoke an anxiety attack.
She didn’t recall much of the torture, but the emotional scars were unhealed. Too late, Stella had realized why she couldn’t read Kovacs when they first met. He too was an empath, and a much more adept and practiced one than she. He’d gathered and trained others like him to act as his special interrogators.
Alternating between psychotropic drugs, physical pain, and empathic torment, they wore her defences down until she spilled her guts. She couldn’t remember what she divulged; all she could recall was not being able to get the words out fast enough.
Even then, they were not satisfied that she was broken. After giving her enough time to recover, they repeated the sessions, determined that she still concealed things, convinced that her empathic abilities gave her a strength to resist that she did not have.
The torture itself seemed pointless. They asked the same questions, always revolving around something called a cynosure. Through it all, she never got the impression they knew what the object they sought was. Naturally, that made interrogation a difficult process, and it was all somewhat senseless, but that was not enough to deter them.
She was so out of it through most of it that she couldn’t be sure of her recollections, but she believed Stromm enjoyed hurting her too much to stop.
Then it suddenly ended.
She sighed and cast her gaze about the small chamber.
So few of them.
Every member of Scimitar’s crew had experienced a similar torture, though none but her was subjected to it repeatedly.
Initially, during her recovery intervals, when she thought she still had the strength, she reached out empathically to the other victims, hoping to soothe them. What she found within each was a devastated emotional landscape. Kovacs had torn them to shreds. What was left they now protected under a numbness that she could not penetrate. She feared many of them would never recover.
At some point—she had no idea how long ago—they were herded onto a ship. Whatever the reason, Stella understood their situation had not improved.
Stromm was somewhere aboard. She sensed him more than once. She could never mistake his unique coldness for anyone else.
She closed her eyes and thought of Hayden. She wanted to locate him, if only to assure herself he was safe. In the rare moments, when circumstances permitted her to sense him, he was anxious and fearful. She wished she could reach across the expanse that separated them and tell him she was alive.
There were times in the past—happier times—when he joked that he could feel her presence too. He teased her, of course. It was his way of telling her how close he felt to her during those years together, but both of them knew the empathic flow could only be one way.
She regretted her abilities weren’t more advanced, as they were in Kovacs and his people. With early training, she might have developed the ability not only to detect emotion, but also to project it in a precisely controlled manner.
If only things had been different.
If only she had been trained to control her gift, she would be able to do more than eavesdrop on Hayden’s emotions from afar. She could tell him she was safe; maybe even where she was.
And yet...
Growing up marooned in the Mu Arae system with her father, they were cut off from any of the institutions that would have nurtured her gift. Survival was the most pressing need, and she learned how to detect danger and hide from the Malliac out of naked necessity.
The truth was, she could project. But instead of using it like a scalpel, as Kovacs did, she’d only ever employed it as a blunt weapon to strike back at the aliens who hunted her, harming anyone else who was nearby as well.
Before she encountered him, Stella had no idea her ability could be used in any other way.
Perhaps there was a way to use it; establish real communication with Hayden; tell him she was safe, tell him where she was so that he could come and rescue her.
She resolved that she had to make some kind of effort. She hadn’t a clue what that should comprise of or if it would even work.
She closed her eyes and leaned against the wall, letting the coolness of the bulkhead spread across her shoulders. Struggling to calm her excitement with the idea, she compelled herself to relax and still her chaotic thoughts.
Stella fought down her rising anxiety and moved toward the nothingness, as her father had taught her in her meditation lessons while growing up.
Her mind stilled, and gradually, all physical sensation dissolved away, leaving only a lightness, as if she were a cloud.
Her eyes shot open, and she jerked upright as she realized she was falling asleep.
Though exhausted and in desperate need of sleep, she could not afford to indulge in that blissful oblivion.
She needed to be awake so she could know that her connection with Hayden, should it arise, was real and not a dream or a hallucination.
Trying again, Stella breathed deeply, listening to her heartbeat slow, while guiding her thoughts to stay on point and not wander.
Eventually an image emerged, as if from a fog. Hayden’s handsome face materialized before her imagination. Accompanying it was a familiar sensation she’d not experienced for a very long time.
Her heart skipped a joyful beat as she realized she was in contact with him, at least emotionally. More importantly, he sensed her. She knew that as surely as she knew herself.
She experienced his confusion and his relief when he comprehended what was happening. It was as if they embraced across whatever distance separated them, and they drew a peace from each other they had not shared in years.
Hayden knew she was alive, and would come for her.
CHAPTER FORTY
Hostages
HAYDEN ENTERED THE bridge to a bustle of activity. During the days since the battle, the repair ship with Gunney, Chin, and the others had returned. In addition, Malkovich’s people had responded to his call, and now dozens of strangers scurried about Scimitar, repairing and readying her for what lay ahead.
“Ah, there you are,” said Malkovich. “Your captain is getting the FTL drive online with Cora. My engineers have just reported that battle damage is repaired. When my remaining stealth ships arrive, we will be able to take on Stromm.”
“Are we in a hurry to do that?”
“I received word from my agents. He has departed Pictor Prime with most of his fleet. Sixteen warships are on a hard burn to bring them here.”
“So the planet is relatively unguarded. We can slip around them and rescue the prisoners—”
“No, we can’t. Stromm’s taken them aboard his ships. I think he got word about what happened to Kovacs and intends to use them as human shields.”
Hayden’s mouth dropped open. “That renders our weapon useless.”
“Yegor and I are worki
ng on a battle plan to best employ my stealth vessels and Scimitar’s dark energy cannon.”
“We are still going to engage them? Even if our people are with them?”
“Of course. What did you think would happen?”
“I don’t know. Maybe retreat to one of your bases and regroup?”
“That only postpones the inevitable. Stromm knows that as long as he has your girlfriend and your crew, Scimitar is trapped in this system—you’ll never leave without them, FTL drive or not. He will chase you down—chase us all. I can’t paint a pretty picture, Kaine. He will begin to execute them until our resolve breaks and we give him what he wants.”
Hayden recalled Kovacs’ boast that Malkovich’s family had survived the attack on their colony and were executed as prisoners. He could only imagine what a shock it must have been for him to hear that. Or perhaps did he disregard the claim, considering it a lie?
Stromm had control of the board. Checkmate was inevitable, and it was only a matter of how many moves it required to end things. There was no way to win, except by throwing themselves at Stromm’s feet and praying he would be more merciful than Malkovich suggested. Check and mate.
“There has to be another way.”
Malkovich put a large hand on Hayden’s shoulder. “I’m afraid there isn’t, son.”
Hayden gruffly shrugged away the patronizing hand. “I can’t accept that.”
“That is up to you, but you will soon realize there is no way to save the lives of your friends—not without surrendering this vessel. I will not permit that. The rest of my fleet arrives within the hour, and I have no reservations about having them turn their weapons on Scimitar if necessary. Your shielding and weaponry are both formidable, but Kovacs demonstrated that this ship can be destroyed. It must not fall into Stromm’s hands.”
Everyone’s attention was on the hologram floating above the conference room table. It showed a scaled model of the solar system, with bright sprites indicating the locations of Stromm’s ships and their own.
Pavlovich said, “Twelve hours ago, we received a message from Stromm. He confirmed that our people are aboard his fleet and warned us to maintain our position or he will begin executing them. Immediately following the transmission, they made a hot burn and are pulling some hard G’s to get here in a hurry.”
“They’ll have to use almost as much fuel again to decelerate,” said Cora. “At those consumption rates, most of his ships won’t be able to return to the inner system.”
“After losing Iliad and Deimos, I don’t believe he expects many of them to survive anyway,” said Malkovich.
“Why would he sacrifice them to save a few days space travel?” asked Hayden. “Especially if there is a risk that we will change position once he’s committed to a deceleration curve. We could leave them stranded and helpless.”
“The prize is worth the price. Besides, he’s desperate,” said Pavlovich. “It’s why he threatens to kill our people.”
“What a bastard,” said Hayden. “Is there anything he isn’t capable of?”
Arms crossed over his chest, Malkovich grunted.
“So, when he arrives, we will be faced with a decision,” said the captain. “One: we can surrender—”
“Do that and my ships have orders to turn Scimitar into a dust cloud,” said his cousin.
“...which is clearly not an idea worth spending any time discussing.” Pavlovich held up two fingers. “Two: we engage them. With our combined strength, we will win that engagement—”
“But a lot of our people will die, either in the battle or executed by Stromm,” said Hayden.
“...making it an impossible option. Which leaves us with Kaine’s plan, which, as crazy as it sounds, may be the only solution.”
“Well, since nobody can dream up anything better, why don’t we go over it anyway?” said Malkovich.
Hayden stood and tried to appear more confident than he was, but the time for doubts was long past. Stella depended on him, as did the others. There was no way he would let her down.
“It calls for the general’s fleet to turn off their stealth cloaks.”
“You’re asking a lot of my commanders, Kaine. None of my ships can match the firepower of more than a few of Stromm’s.”
“There won’t be any shooting if everyone sticks to the script. May I continue?”
Malkovich leaned back in his chair and invited him to do so with a wave of his arm.
“Your ship currently attached to our docking port will remain cloaked. I will lead a team of Rangers on a boarding party and sneak on to Stromm’s flagship to locate and free the hostages.”
“Okay,” said Malkovich, “I’m going to stop you there. The first problem with your plan is that we have no way to know if any of them are aboard, or if they are held on another, or on several ships as my spies told me is the case. Second, even if they are all together and you get lucky in picking the correct one, how will you board it without detection?”
“I’m counting on some help from the inside,” said Hayden.
Malkovich scowled at him.
“Kaine’s girlfriend has empathic ability,” said Pavlovich. “They are connected, somehow...nobody seems to know how that works. The point is, she will lead him to her.”
“If she can detect him across space, and if she still lives.”
“She’s alive.”
Malkovich raised his hands in surrender. “Okay, I’ll have to take your word for it. What are we supposed to be doing while you are on your rescue mission?”
“You will have to stall for time. I’m sure Stromm doesn’t expect you to give up the missing piece of the cynosure without some negotiation. Drag the discussion out for as long as you can.”
Pavlovich said, “That shouldn’t be too difficult. I have no idea where the hell it is on the ship.”
“You will keep the FTL engine primed. The moment we return with our people, Malkovich’s ships cloak and we all bug out of here.”
“Do you understand that if any part of this harebrained plan fails—and it will fail, we’ll have a shooting match on our hands?” said Malkovich. “This idea can come apart in so many ways that I can’t begin to count them.”
“Listen, General,” said Hayden, “I know it sounds insane and doesn’t have a high probability of success, but it is the only way I can think of that gives the hostages any degree of a chance. Without it, they have none. You’ve wanted to take on Stromm’s fleet from the start. If it goes sideways, you will get the firefight you want. All I ask is for the opportunity to try to save our people.”
Malkovich turned to his cousin. “And you’re okay with this?”
“Not really, but I agree with Kaine that I can’t abandon my crew without making an effort to rescue them. What kind of captain would I be if I did?”
“That’s the difference between us, Yegor. You are too sentimental.” After a moment of consideration, he threw his hands in the air. “Fine, let’s do this your way. But I’m keeping my weapons hot, and I will only decloak a few ships. I can’t afford to expose all of their positions.”
“Fair enough, Cousin.”
“Captain, I want to take Cora along in an avatar. She will come in handy to get us aboard the ship.”
Pavlovich looked upward. “How about it, Cora? Are you up for a road trip?”
“If it keeps them safe, then yes.”
He turned to Kaine. “There you have it. For better or worse, you’ve got your shot.”
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Preparing for Battle
HAYDEN COULD NOT recall ever seeing Gunney smile. But when the gunnery officer got his hands on ordnance salvaged from the wreckage of the Iliad, it seemed to have made his year.
“I feel a lot better having the rail gun available,” he said.
“We didn’t do too badly using just the Glenatat weapon,” Hayden replied.
“Yeah, but I prefer the solid impact that a projectile can deliver. There’s nothing like ballisti
cs to make up for the shortcomings of energy weapons.”
Hayden couldn’t really argue with him. Gunney had logged almost forty years in the UEF. He did not know how much combat the old cyborg had seen over that time, but he was sure it had been extensive.
They would need all of his experience and more for what was coming. The dreadnought that approached dwarfed the flotilla of other vessels accompanying it. It was a monster, designed to lay entire planets to waste. He wasn’t sure how their armour would stand up to what Stromm could throw at them. Considering the damage that Iliad’s rail gun did to Scimitar, Hayden had to admit that having access to one again made him more secure. He only wished they had some of those quantum projectiles used against them.
The dark energy cannon would not defend them against a barrage from multiple ships. One lucky hit or a coordinated salvo might destroy Scimitar. He could only hope that the situation didn’t come to that. Then it might be a case of who could get the first shot off, and their own fleet was sorely outnumbered.
Hayden’s inspection tour took him to engineering as his final stop. As he entered, he saw Pavlovich in a discussion with Chin beside the interface for the FTL drive. When the captain spotted him, he ended the conversation and approached.
“How is everything shaping up, Kaine?”
“We’ve taken on as much salvage as possible. It was only a fraction of what Cora identified, but we have no more room.”
“She must have been like a kid in a candy store.”
“It was hard to tell. The synth she occupied wasn’t very expressive. But from the sound of her voice, she was delighted.”
“Is there any change in the status of Stromm’s fleet?”
“Half an hour ago, they were still on full burn. They will be decelerating soon. I expect their arrival between three and five hours from now.”
“I guess it all depends on how aggressive a deceleration curve he wants to pull.”
“I think he’ll leave it to the last possible second.”
“Which means he’ll be on our doorstep sooner than later,” said Pavlovich. “Will we be ready?”