War Without Honor (Halloran's War Series Book 1)

by J. R. Geoghan

  “Valor is closing, sir.”

  “Very well. Status of the Prax vessels? Reyes can you do that?”

  The Chief’s voice was steady. “Yes. All three look heavily damaged. Axxa, can you confirm what I’m looking at?”

  The Prax climbed out of his wedged position and stretched as he half-tripped past Halloran to where Reyes was seated. He leaned in. “Yes, all three warships are damaged. The lead ship is showing no power output—life support is probably down as well. Middle ship is spinning without signs of correction, power output minimal. There may be survivors aboard. The rearmost ship—.”

  At that moment a blinding light lit the viewscreen and turned the bridge white. The screen quickly corrected and the room darkened.

  “What was that?” Halloran asked, getting to his feet.

  “Middle ship has detonated, Captain.” Axxa looked at him evenly, one hand supporting himself on the control table. “They destroyed themselves.”

  “How do you know?” Halloran was aghast.

  “It is our way.”

  “Unreal,” observed Carruthers after a moment.

  Reyes pointed at his display. “Rearmost ship is still under power. Aren’t they changing course there?”

  Axxa looked. “Yes, they are attempting a withdrawal. Captain, if they retain jump capability…”

  “Understood. Move to attack them.”

  Carruthers called from the front. “Captain! The human ship is hailing us!”

  “On screen?” Asked Halloran.

  “I think I can, sir.”

  The screen lit up with the figure of Captain Heres.

  “Good shooting, Captain,” complimented Halloran.

  “Ah, yes, Captain…same to you. I congratulate you on your impressive ruse and plan of attack.” The man’s face had an odd look about it. “I fear you have sustained damage?”

  “Not sure as to the extent yet, Captain. We’re still getting used to this, you know.”

  “Hmm, yes.” The man straightened. “I must advise you, um, that I have been given orders to destroy your vessel.”

  “What!” Halloran stepped out of his station toward the screen, as if that would help.

  “Valor out.”

  “Wait!” But the screen had darkened.

  Halloran stormed forward to Carruthers’ station. “Get him back!”

  “Sir, I don’t know how!” The panic rose in her voice.

  Reyes called. “I think he’s firing, sir.”

  “Brace!”

  The ship rocked sideways and gravity let go again, causing everyone to float and grab at solid railings or seats to remain where they were.

  “They outgun us, Captain,” Axxa announced.

  Carruthers found herself staring at the unused “defensive weapon” controls as Axxa had termed it. With a set jaw she reached out. “To hell with this.” She enabled the control and hit the button with the word she’d learned meant ENGAGE in Prax.

  Aboard the surviving Prax destroyer

  “Achieving jump now, Lord.”

  Calxen nursed a bad slash across his forehead, using a section of the dead Jaxlen’s uniform coat to stem the bleeding until a medical tech could reach him. “Do it.”

  “Destination?”

  “Anywhere but here.”

  The tech coughed, blood coming up from an unseen wound. “Lord, life support is failing.”

  So that was why the atmosphere on the shattered bridge was so poor. “Tell the damage control team to keep us alive until we get somewhere to do repairs. Or,” he added, “I’ll kill them myself.” He thought of his destroyed ship and crew, floating back there amid the field of wreckage. Gone. “I’ll kill them all!”

  “Lord?”

  He slumped in his seat. “Is the jump drive functioning?”

  The tech fell forward, dead or passed out, on his console.

  Calxen leaped forward to pull him from the controls. He called loudly to the last remaining bridge crewmember. “Assist me! The jumpdrive is malfunctioning!”

  The two of them held the equipment together long enough for Calxen to engage the drive.

  “We’re jumping, Lord!” The crewmember was ecstatic.

  At that moment the atmosphere in the ship vented to space. The bridge’s manual override kicked in, attempting to seal the critical space off with atmosphere. Calxen could only hang on and watch the readings fall off to zero as the ship died around him, traveling faster than light.

  Chapter 54

  Aboard Valor

  Renno ran the diagnostic again. “Sir, systems are fully online.”

  Heres paced over to her again. “Check it again!”

  “Sir, I did.”

  Heres screamed at the empty tactical display, pointing. “So where did he go?!”

  “Sir, I’d tell you if I knew.”

  Grisa called out from his station. “Replaying the action recording log shows that the Prax ship simply dropped off the scope at 1550.45 exactly, sir. It was there recovering attitude from our salvo, then it’s off the tactical.”

  Heres leaned against his chair. “But that’s impossible, Lieutenant.”

  “I understand, sir. What are your orders?”

  The Captain smacked his chair arm. “Keep running diagnostics and scanning the vicinity for that renegade!”

  But inside, Heres realized that he wasn’t all that upset that Halloran had somehow, miraculously given him the slip. As he reseated himself he mumbled. “I’ll catch up to you soon, Captain.” But his smile at the adventure of it was playful.

  Aboard Trellixan

  “We are moving away from the other ship, avoiding debris from the battle,” Djembe announced after the silence on the bridge had stretched for several minutes. “It’s everywhere.”

  “What just happened?” Halloran was standing over Carruthers. “Why’d they fly the other way like that? Why aren’t they pursuing us?”

  She pointed at a control on her panel. “I pushed this. That’s it.”

  “Axxa?”

  But the Prax was gone.

  A voice came over the intercom speaker. “Captain to Engineering. Please hurry.” Wilson’s voice.

  Reyes stepped over. I’ll keep an eye on things, sir. Go see what they need.”

  “Thanks, Chief.” He pulled the Cuban close. “Um, did you figure out the way?” he whispered.

  Reyes’ eyes sparkled with mirth as he explained to his own Captain how to find a compartment of his ship.

  When he got close, Halloran needed no urging to hurry. The sound of raised voices bounced off the pipes and conduits of the passageways. He burst into Engineering to a sight that burned into his memory.

  Hummel was by the entrance, a rifle of some sort aimed at…Axxa. The Prax had his own gun—one of the pistols that had found their way all the way from Djembe’s ship. It was pointed at…the woman. It was the officer from the transport.

  She had a gun, too, bigger and badder-looking and its muzzle aimed at Axxa’s head. She looked mean.

  Halloran blinked the moment away. As he did the woman began yelling at him.

  “You call him off or I’ll kill him!”

  “You are the one who should put down your weapon!” bellowed Axxa in return.

  Wilson was there, somewhat in the middle but clearly not wanting to be. He pointed at Hummel’s rifle. “Both of you—drop your guns!”

  Halloran took another step into the compartment, hands coming up in a gesture of surrender. “Whoa, whoa, everyone stop a moment and explain what is going on here.” He fixed on the woman. “You are from the shuttle…from Valor?”

  “You might remember me, Captain. I’m a real Captain—of the Fleet—and I hereby claim this vessel!” She waved annoyingly at another gray-uniformed guy who looked for all the world like he was cowering behind her. “Travers! Get their guns…” She gestured with hers. “I’m going to shoot your Praxxan lap-dog here unless you drop your weapons!”

  Travers didn’t move. No, he actually seemed to co
wer a bit more, away from his boss.

  Halloran kept his hands up. “Now, Captain, let’s look at this more dispassionately.” The translator messed up the last word and the woman frowned. “Relaxed.” He walked slowly toward the middle of the two pistols, at the same time making eye contact with Hummel briefly. He could also now see several crew hiding in a corner further back in the compartment. Wyatt and some guys.

  He stopped and looked at Axxa pointedly. “What are you doing?”

  The tall alien’s hand didn’t waver a bit. “She threatens the ship.”

  “Isn’t that for me to decide, Axxa?” Halloran turned his back on the Prax and faced the woman. “Okay, Captain…”

  “Kendra.” Kendra’s face was a combination of rage, frustration and confusion. Halloran couldn’t help but notice, however, her high, proud cheekbones. And those eyes…whew. Anger.

  “My name is Travers,” said the younger Fleet officer unnecessarily.

  Halloran’s trance was broken and he nodded at the two of them. “I am very glad to see that you avoided destruction during the battle. I want you to know two important things before we proceed here. Three, I suppose.”

  A stray strand of raven hair fell across Kendra’s face. “Go ahead.” The gun didn’t move.

  Halloran lowered his hands to his hips, relaxed. “One. Between the Valor and this ship, we managed to defeat the three Prax warships plus several smaller vessels. Two…” His own eyes hardened, “…immediately after the action, Captain Heres called us up and informed us that his fleet had ordered him to destroy this ship and all aboard it.” One hand pointed at her, reproachingly. “Including you.”

  For the first time, he noticed her hand hesitate. “Not possible.” She tried blowing the hair strand away, almost causing Halloran to chuckle. He held it in.

  The other guy—Travis?—added, “Why would they do that?”

  But Kendra was thinking. “Something doesn’t add up. You and your crew—what a bunch of—.” she said a word that the translator hung up on. “You’re in the run from the Fleet.”

  Halloran shook his head. “To the contrary, all we’ve wanted from the moment we left Earth was to join the fleet.” His other hand waved toward Axxa, who still held the gun across the room. “This guy is—was—a valuable asset that I thought had been acquired at great cost. You tell me what is going on?” he let an edge creep into his voice—it wasn’t all that hard—as he continued. “Your own fleet has ordered our destruction. Like it or not, you, me and the rest of us need to sit down and regroup.” His hand went back to his hips. “I’m not risking this ship or its crew—including the two of you—by announcing our presence again.”

  He could see the conflict going on behind those eyes. Finally, the gun hand started to drop. With a hard look at Axxa, she replaced the pistol in a holster Halloran hadn’t seen her wearing. She frowned at him, nodded toward the Prax.

  Halloran turned deliberately and walked around Axxa, toward the entrance hatch. “Why is your gun up, Axxa? Want to kill more humans?” He saw the words hit home as he quietly motioned to Hummel.

  “She is a threat. She was about to destroy us. She cannot be trusted.” Axxa seemed to be far away in his mind. A flashback of some sort?

  Either way, Halloran saw the red man’s eyes pop in his direction when he placed the cold muzzle of the rifle against his neck.

  “Axxa, let me be clear. I don’t trust you. Not one bit. Your survival—and your friend Deacon’s—is absolutely dependent on the degree to which you earn my trust. And hers,” he added, pointing with his non-trigger hand at Kendra, who hadn’t moved yet. “You may be some kind of war hero who’s truly seen the light, but on this ship, right now, I am your Lord. Do you understand me?”

  Axxa’s eyes flicked back to Kendra, and the gun hand began to fall. When it was at his side, he looked down at Halloran. “I understand.”

  Hummel stepped up and relieved the Prax of his gun, looking like a guy stealing a banana from an inattentive gorilla. Halloran backed up a step himself, cradling the rifle in his arms. It felt cool and solid in his hands.

  Kendra spoke up. “What was number three?”

  Halloran smiled at her—a genuine smile. “I thought you’d never ask. I’m commandeering this vessel in the name of the United States Navy. Officially.”

  Mars Command

  Kendall was, as it always seemed, pacing his office when the door opened and his assistant stuck her head in. “Is it alright—.”

  “—Yes, yes, send them in.” He’d stopped and waved with clear annoyance.

  Admiral Doren from the Mars staff group stepped in, looking somewhat abashed. He headed straight for a chair and slumped in it.

  Kendall leaned over the table and pointed at him. “Talk.”

  Doren sighed. “There is no confirmation of a kill.”

  Kendall shoved a chair, making it topple and almost fall. “How is that possible? You said they scanned space for a hundred K in every direction! Not even a drive signature?”

  The door opened again to admit Commander Kaela.

  Doren waved at her. “I asked the Commander to join us for this briefing.”

  Kendall fixed his daughter with a non-fatherly stare. “You sent the signal.”

  She faltered, one hand on a chair she was about to sit in. “Yes…at Admiral Krug’s order.”

  He pointed at her. “And you knew that Kendra was mixed up in the action.”

  “Sir, it’s not my place to question orders…and I have no clear intel that Kendra was involved at this time.”

  Kendall didn’t move, but indicated Doren. “He’s your CO, not Krug. You made a bad call.”

  Kaela had sat. She laced her hands together and looked up, meeting her father’s eyes. “Commander Krug is your senior aide, sir. What he says, anyone in the Fleet can reasonably assume came directly from you. Is that not so?”

  Doren spread his hands on the table. “Look, this will get us nowhere. Sir, that ship clearly possesses tech that is far advanced for the Prax. Whoever is crewing it, we are reasonable in being cautious. I suggest—.”

  “I sentenced my daughter to death.” Kendall turned away from them, his mouth moving silently.

  Doren looked uneasily between the father and the daughter, who for her part looked half-annoyed and half-sad. Hmm… He made a mental note to do some digging…later.

  Kaela said, “Should we cancel the kill order for that ship, sir?” She glanced at Doren.

  Kendall straightened, keeping his back to them. He cleared his throat. “No, not yet. Have Captain Heres stay in the vicinity to provide cover for Agra until our units arrive. Then have him dock there for repairs as possible, and put him back out on the trail for this mystery ship.” He turned to them. “There has to be something out there we can find!” Doren saw the anger burning in the older man’s eyes.

  Kaela seemed unnaturally calm. Keeping a lid on her emotions, Doren noticed. It would be natural, he reminded himself—after all, these two were facing the likely death of their daughter and sister. Heres had recovered the shuttle, partially damaged, from the debris field shortly after the action ended. There’d been no sign of bodies, but such was space—odd things happened out on the razor’s edge of battle in the vacuum. Doren himself had seen it.

  He stood. “I’ll leave you two alone. The search will continue, Admiral.”

  When Doren had gone, Kendall went to Kaela and put his arms around her. “Sorry. I’m so sorry, about everything.” She felt his large frame shaking with silent sobs. Her own heart was hard—hardened by the decisions she’d had to make, by the knowledge that reality was much more complicated than family or devotion.

  This old man holding her, he’d long ago given up the will to do what was necessary for the survival of Coloran—the species—in the face of clear Praxxan superiority. This new ship they apparently had, it was just one more example of it.

  Kendra—well, she’d made her bed with the space fleet, years and years ago. She could’ve had
any berth she wanted—she was an Admiral’s daughter—but she’d chosen instead to be where the “action was” and this time it’d gotten her into trouble.

  Kaela couldn’t bring herself say killed. Not yet.

  She hated herself for deceiving them, but she knew that the cause made sense. She despised Krug—but the cause made sense. She would play along, for now, and bide her time for when the call came. It excited her.

  The words came out mechanically. “Father, we don’t know yet. There may be hope.”

  “I like that, Kaela. You keep believing…for both of us.”

  He didn’t see the thinly-drawn lips on her face as he pulled her close.

  Chapter 55

  Luyten System - Aboard Trellixan

  Djembe was concentrating on a panel outside of the bridge, trying to puzzle out the maze of wires that he believed supplied power to the helm station. As he used a plastic stalk to separate the bundles and peer into the depths of the junction box, he felt a presence at his side. With a sigh, he pulled back and rubbed his eyes. Tired.

  The presence was Deacon. Djembe had noticed that the Earther had taken to avoiding the bridge in recent days, instead choosing to sit in a corner of the crew’s mess, alone. Watching everyone come and go. His Praxxan charge was buzzing all over the ship, leaving him behind. Now, he looked anxious.

  The older man crossed his arms, plastic tool sticking out at an angle. “What?”

  “I don’t feel needed, Djembe.”

  The pilot remembered the first time he’d met the erstwhile smuggler, when he’d almost shot his head off for discovering his hideout for the Imani. “What do you want to be needed for, kid?”

  “When I was on Earth, I had a purpose…not getting caught. My whole life was the mission. I breathed it, slept it. Then it ended in failure and—.”

  “Why did it end in failure? You got the Prax off of Earth.”

  Deacon’s hands came up in an expression of frustration. “But we didn’t get to Mars. Admiral Kendall wanted this. I wanted my reward. So did you. What happened?”

  Djembe exhaled. “Follow me.”