Knoble stooped low, crossing one leg over the other in a mock bow, then pulled Sevadi in for a hug. “Look at you!” he exclaimed. The scrawny kid he had known was gone. The amount of muscle he’d put on since they last saw each other was nothing short of impressive.
“Hey, I had to make up for what we lost when you decided to go on a mystical space journey.” Sevadi casually brushed his nails against his suit collar. “I mean, who else could live up to your shining example?”
“Kiss-ass.” Knoble caught him in a headlock and steered him back towards the table. As they approached, Bennett and West welcomed Knoble with a round of applause. “Come on now,” he said, still beaming despite the stern edge in his voice. “Save the praise for when I actually do something noteworthy.”
The pair of them sat down again, opposite two soldiers Knoble didn’t recognize. They must have been the new recruits Alana had told him about on the ride over.
At the end of the bench was Rae Mäkinen, a twenty-something woman with dyed blue hair who was shaping up to be a fine marksman. Next to her sat Tzirel Dahan, another youngster fresh out of training and apparently having difficulty learning the ropes.
Bennett patted the empty space beside him, his prosthetic hand clacking on the bench’s steel surface. “I nearly brushed your return off as a hoax,” he said. “We thought you were gone for good.”
Corporal West folded her arms on the table. “Should’ve known we’d be seeing you again. Missed us too much, didn’t you, sir?”
“Me, miss you? Hah!” Knoble gave her a dramatic wave. “I had to come back. You jugheads would fall to pieces without me.”
Suddenly, their excitement faded.
Laughter gave way to awkward silence. Sevadi rubbed his neck, and Private Mäkinen’s head sank between her shoulders as the rest of the team exchanged uneasy looks.
Knoble’s eyes darted between them. “What did I say?”
Bennett fidgeted with his metallic wrist joint. Either he wasn’t quite used to the new appendage yet, or he’d picked up a nervous habit. “Things haven’t exactly been going well lately,” he said.
“What do you mean?”
“Lieutenant Foster is a total dickbag—that’s what he means,” Sevadi blurted out, not even bothering to sugar coat the situation. “He doesn’t approve of the peace treaty with the Leh’kin, so he rags on us about it like it’s our fault. The guy doesn’t trust me, he puts the newbies in danger, and sometimes I wonder how he even managed to get past basic training.”
Yikes, Knoble thought. It had to be serious coming from the reckless kid who barely made it into the army himself. “Have you filed a formal complaint?”
“Several. No luck there, though.”
“That’s not right. If he can’t meet the minimum requirements for the position, he shouldn’t be allowed to lead in the first place. He could end up getting somebody killed.”
Bennett grunted. “Rumor has it he’s the unholy spawn of some bigwig up at Fleet Command. Namely, Michelle Foster. She certainly has the gall to buy her son a leading role on whatever team he damn well wants. Too bad money holds higher value than principle these days, eh?”
“Where is Foster?” Knoble asked.
“Over there, checking up on shite that doesn’t concern us.” Bennett pointed to the drink dispensers by the far wall, where a man in a UNPD logo jacket stood alone with a tablet in hand.
“Well, let’s see if I can pull a few strings.” Knoble got up and strode across the mess hall to confront Foster, determined to nip this problem in the bud so their relationship wouldn’t be all piss and vinegar. When he reached the dispensers, he extended his hand and said, “You must be the new management my stepdaughter was telling me about.”
Foster only glanced up for a second to acknowledge the man in front of him, then shifted his focus back to the screen. “I suppose that means you’re Lance Knoble.”
Damn straight.
With that snobbish attitude, it was no wonder the others had assumed he was the descendant of some UNPD brass. But snubbing a handshake, whether from a commanding officer or a man of equal rank, was downright disrespectful. If he ever acted this way around his superiors, he’d get more than a meek slap on the wrist.
Knoble lowered his arm. “Do you have a minute to talk?”
“No, as a matter of fact, I do not.”
Curious as to what could be keeping him oh-so busy, Knoble leaned forward to peep at the contents of his datapad. White lines sprawled over an indigo screen, forming rooms and doors and passageways.
Ship schematics? he speculated.
Not for a human vessel, that was for sure.
Squinting, he tried to make out the words in the lower corner of the display and gave pause. The text read LEGACY OF NIGHT. What was this guy doing with the schematics for a Leh’kin vessel? Spying on his mother’s behalf?
Foster caught him peeking and promptly tilted the datapad to hide the image. “I have things to do, Lieutenant Knoble. I’m sure whatever you want to talk about can wait.”
“Actually, it can’t. We need to discuss the way you’ve been treating my team.”
“Your team?” Foster stood, chest puffed out as if he were trying to make himself appear larger. “Last I checked, these people were under my command—not yours.”
“Yeah, well, that was before I rose from the dead and found out you’d been treating them like shit. They’re damn good soldiers, Foster. They don’t deserve to be dragged through the mud.”
“I wouldn’t have to if they would obey my orders.”
“Maybe there’s a fault in your method of command.”
“Or maybe you just raised a pack of disloyal mutts.”
Knoble’s blood boiled, hot and sudden in his veins. That was the last straw. Rage enveloped his senses, seething from his very bones. He didn’t even have a chance to regain self-control before his fist crashed into Foster’s cheek.
The man’s head snapped sideways, blood and spittle flying from his lips. His rimless glasses shattered on impact, their shards driven deep into his flesh by his assailant’s knuckles.
Knoble slammed his palms onto Foster’s chest and shoved him up against one of the drink dispensers, bunching the leathery jacket in his fists. He was about to throw another punch when a woman screamed his name.
Alana was standing by Alpha Team’s table. The mess hall had grown uncomfortably quiet. Virtually everyone in the room had stopped what they were doing to stare at Knoble. Even his own teammates appeared stunned.
“Put him down,” Alana ordered firmly. When he didn’t comply, she raised her voice. “Lance, drop him!”
He released his grip. Foster crumpled to the floor in a sniveling mess, gently dabbing at his beaten face. His lip was split, nose bloodied but not broken. His injuries were minor—nothing a couple of hours in the infirmary couldn’t fix.
As Dahan and Bennett hopped up to help Foster, Alana took her stepfather aside. “Jesus, Lance, you haven’t blown up like that in years. What the hell was that about?”
“You know what it’s about,” he said. “Foster’s been walking all over my team since the day he took charge, and he’s not even qualified to lead. I couldn’t just stand by and do nothing.”
“So your solution was to beat him to a pulp?”
“Things got out of hand.”
“Yeah, no shit!”
In trying to justify his actions, Knoble had only dug himself a deeper hole. He should have known better. “Look, I’m sorry.”
Alana huffed. “Apologize to Foster, not to me. He’s a spoiled brat, Lance. Plain and simple. Until he actually screws up, I’m afraid you two are gonna have to spend some time together.” She gave him a light pat on the shoulder. “Go get cleaned up and meet us at the dropship. We’ve got some errands to run.”
“Ugh. He’s coming with us?” Lieutenant Foster scrunched up his face in disgust when Knoble strolled into the transit hub—or as best he could past so much swelling. The poor bastard’s l
ip had puffed up to nearly twice its size, and his cheek was a mottled pink-purple.
Knoble couldn’t help but feel satisfied with the result of his outburst, despite the nagging guilt that came with it. Foster may have suffered a more severe scolding than he deserved, but at least it got the message across.
Lieutenant Jenkinson rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry, once we make landfall, you two won’t even have to look at each other.” He stepped over the raised threshold into the Bandwagon’s airlock.
It suddenly occurred to Knoble as he followed Echo and Alpha into the dropship’s passenger cabin that he had no idea where they were going. “So, where are we headed?”
“Thei’legh,” Alana answered.
The Leh’kin homeworld? “What business do we have there?”
“Just taking care of our less hectic duties. As part of our agreement with King Amalan, we’ve been making supply runs to the refugee camps near the capitol. It gives us a break from the battlefield. And, well, it’s nice to know we’re good for something other than killing.”
“What kind of refugees are we talking about?”
“Drahkori, mostly. They have taken in human civilians from nearby systems, though—just until we can move them elsewhere. I’m guessing it’s more a show of good faith than anything.” She gathered her hair into a loose, low-hanging ponytail and strapped herself in near the rear hatch. “Fair warning: the camps aren’t a pretty sight. Don’t expect a cheerful atmosphere.”
Knoble buckled in to the seat beside her. “If they’re at all like the shelters on Anahk, I wouldn’t think so.” He would never forget the stadium they stayed in the night the Drocain attacked. The crying, the screaming, the reek of sweat and charred flesh . . .
Rather than delve into that depressing memory, he nodded towards the female Drahkori sitting opposite them and asked, “Who’s she?”
Alana was more than happy for the change of subject. “Jhiral Alume. She’s an old friend of Kenon’s—known him since he was a kid. She tracked us down, requested a spot on the team. Anderson had a helluva job convincing Fleet Command it would help to solidify the alliance.”
“I still don’t understand how you managed to get his support on all of this in the first place. Hell, you had a hard time convincing me.”
“Orion helped. Besides, I don’t remember having too much trouble getting you on board.”
“Not like I had a whole lot of options. What’s a guy supposed to do when one alien saves his life and his kid immediately shows with another one by her side? It took all of my willpower not to shoot them.”
Alana chuckled softly. “Well, I’m glad you managed to keep your finger off the trigger long enough to see I was right.”
0200 Hours, September 10, 2442 (Earth Calendar) / Alqui Docking Station, Kingdom of Oe’Nhervon, planet Thei’legh, Phoenix System
The cargo hold of the freighter Signed, Sealed, Delivered was packed from floor to ceiling with metal crates and plasteel containers. Some carried the symbol of the United Colonial Government while others bore the proud eagle of the United Nations Planetary Defense.
The supply cluster Echo Team was searching for would be marked with a bright red cross to signify its vital contents: air purifiers, heated blankets, ice packs, various medical supplies, and fresh food and water—courtesy of Chelwood Gate’s interplanetary disaster relief organization.
They soon located the consignment at the far end of the hold and prepped it for ground transportation. Duffel bags were zipped and tagged, crates were strapped together with clusters of smaller containers stacked neatly on top. With assistance from Alpha Team, the shipment was divided into four separate bundles and loaded onto maglev pallets in less than an hour.
Once they were finished, Lieutenant Jenkinson flashed a hand signal to the hold operator.
The ramp lowered with a mechanical groan. Steel shutters rattled against each other as they rolled up into the ceiling, allowing bright afternoon light to stream in. Sand swirled in through the open hatch, carried in by a warm gust of wind.
“Everybody form up at the door!” Jenkinson hollered.
Both teams lined up along the threshold, firearms holstered. Kenon and Knoble looked more confused than anything, but they did as instructed without question.
As soon as the shutters had opened fully, a group of Leh’kin guards marched onto the deck and patted them down in search of any concealed weapons they may be carrying. Once they had given the teams the all-clear, they brought out their scanners and moved on to inspect the goods.
It was the same routine with every shipment, regardless of who delivered it. With Caenlegh Castle and the royal family only a few kilometers away, they couldn’t be too careful. One misstep could be disastrous.
“As if it wasn’t already awkward having spaceport security feel you up, ” Lieutenant Carter said, readjusting his combat harness. “Now we have to deal with these lizards poking their goddamn claws in places they don’t belong.”
Sevadi cringed. “And you guys have done this how many times?”
“A lot,” Parker replied, pulling out his datapad and marking the delivery as complete on Echo Team’s task report. “I don’t imagine the guards are fond of it, either. It is their job, though, so I’m sure they’re well compensated.”
“At least someone can benefit from our discomfort.” Alana snickered. Tucking her helmet under her arm, she walked over to her stepfather. “These guards are going to be here for a while. Inspection usually takes close to an hour,” she said. “We could go for a walk and I’ll show you around the place. What do you think?”
“Yeah, sure,” Knoble agreed with an eager nod.
Alana’s face lit up. “Jenkinson, I’m going out for a bit. Ping me when you get to the camp,” she called out over her shoulder.
He simply waved in response.
At that, she led Knoble down the loading ramp, across the exterior landing platform, and into the station’s central hub. As soon as they passed through the doors, she noticed the increase in security.
On a normal day, only a handful of lightly-armed guardsmen would be scattered about the station. Today, however, she counted at least twenty guards on the ground floor, and twelve more on the upper level—all of whom were heavily armed.
Something must have happened to warrant the extra muscle.
Knoble bumped into Alana as he dodged by a group of Leh’kin, nearly causing them both to topple over. He was twisting and turning beside her, gawking at everything like some poor kid lost in a department store. She caught his arm to stop him from flailing about and stifled a laugh, recalling her first trip to Alqui.
Without Levian by her side, she wouldn’t have known what to do. It was so surreal—to walk among the blue saurians unarmed and not have to worry about one of them executing her on the spot. Even now, despite her frequent visits to the city since the alliance’s formation, she still found it nerve-racking.
Alana halted at the front entrance, where a guard scanned her ID tag and bombarded her with questions—the purpose of her visit, how long she intended to stay, which organization she worked for, and so on. Once he was satisfied, he allowed both soldiers to pass.
To their relief, the traffic outside was considerably lighter.
“How did you persuade the Leh’kin to cooperate with the UNPD anyway?” Knoble asked, a little more relaxed now that he didn’t have to worry about tripping over anyone’s toes.
“We have friends in high places. Levian, being heir to the throne, was able to organize a meeting between King Amalan and Admiral Anderson to discuss the peace treaty.”
“Talk about a lucky break.”
“And that’s not where it ends. Levian’s word holds a lot of merit in Thei’legh’s hierarchy, so he was able to arrange similar talks across the globe. Now we have the support of seven kingdoms.” Alana sighed. “Unfortunately, the other five aren’t too fond of humans. They think we’re incompetent, bad-mannered . . . Hell, we got a warning from the king of Oe
’Delavion after two UNPD vessels crossed over his land. He said if he sees our ships in his airspace again, he’ll be forced to take action.”
“Couldn’t really expect all of them to bend over at once,” Knoble said. “It’s not easy to put a decade of war and endless bloodshed behind you. To be honest, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive them, either.”
“I just thought they would be more . . . willing. They were left under the impression that enemy forces could descend on their homeworld at any given moment, and they already know what kind of power the Nephera possess.”
“Do they know about the Calypsis Project?”
“Not exactly.” Alana grasped the handrail at the bottom of a watchtower and ascended the spiraling staircase. “Levian didn’t tell them about Kenon. With the key out of the picture, he feared his father would see no need for an alliance and take it upon himself to save the galaxy. So, in order to convince them that they needed us, we had to pretend like they were in immediate danger.”
“So you manipulated them into helping us.”
Alana frowned. “You think we made the wrong call?”
“No,” he said. “I just think we were fine without them.”
You wouldn’t say that if you’d been around for the past three years, Alana thought, somewhat disheartened. She decided to keep that comment to herself. After all, it wasn’t as if Knoble had taken a vacation. Whatever happened to Pioneer had been completely out of his control. She couldn’t blame him for that.
Still, she wished he could understand how much mankind had benefited from the alliance instead of looking down on it like it was a bad thing.
I guess you’ll just have to wait and see it for yourself, Lance.
They emerged under the watchtower’s shadowy dome at the top of the staircase, and the three guards stationed there acknowledged their human allies with a glance before returning their focus to city grounds.
“Holy . . .” was all Knoble could say when he spotted the castle in the distance. The structure was floating weightlessly above a water-filled basin several kilometers away, held aloft by seven anti-gravity generators.
The Calypsis Project Boxed Set (Books 1-2 - The Echo-Alpha Duology) Page 39