by Britt Ringel
Lombardi tried to sit up but found that muscle spasms in her stomach prevented it. Instead, she rolled over and pointed the rifle away from her. A Brevic trooper slumped on the deck near Vidic’s feet, blood gushing from his nose. Farther away, Romano and a third trooper were in a deadly ballet that centered on a contested rifle. Romano’s right leg had a knife planted firmly in it.
Still on the deck, Lombardi aimed for the trooper’s legs and fired. She felt bile rise up her throat at the destruction her bullets wrought. The trooper collapsed into the hailstorm of bullets. Eventually, her rifle stopped firing.
Lombardi tore her eyes away from the gruesome sight to see a fourth trooper face down, unmoving on the deck. Next to him, on his back, was Valokov. Lombardi dropped the rifle and began the seemingly impossible task of standing upright. She could not breathe and her stomach was one gigantic knot. Her head ached so badly that her brain seemed to be threatening to leak out her ears.
Vidic assisted her with a free hand and picked up the rifle with the other. He examined the weapon and good-naturedly muttered, “You know, ma’am, you do not have to fire them all in one burst.”
Not hearing the remark, Lombardi staggered over to Valokov. His chest was covered in red. She dropped to a knee and reached for his hand. “Tolya,” she cried. Lombardi’s hand closed around her first officer’s and she immediately felt the lifelessness of it. “Come on, we will have a med kit in the lifeboat. Look at me, Anatoly,” she pleaded. His unseeing eyes were fixed on the ceiling.
Vidic wrapped an arm around Romano to help support his weight and looked back toward Lombardi. “We have to go, Komandor.”
Lombardi ignored the appeal and brought a gentle hand to Valokov’s cheek.
“Komandor!” Kapitan Romano shouted. “We have just minutes. Please, Anatoly would want you to get out.”
* * *
“What the hell?” Truesworth said from his station.
“What is it, Sensorman?” Lieutenant Spencer asked.
“I just picked up a big explosion above Anthe Four,” Truesworth answered. He manipulated his console controls while adding, “Spinning the Hawkeye sensor array, sir.”
Spencer exchanged glances with Heskan. “What do you think, Commander?”
Heskan, who was seated in the first officer’s chair, had just finished entering the official change-of-command order into Kite’s log. “Was that Phoenix?” he asked.
All eyes looked up to the wall screen. The optical showed an expanding debris cloud over the gas giant. Truesworth zoomed the optical closer. “I think she just exploded, Captain.” He squinted at his console. “Confirmed. Phoenix is gone and bunches of lifeboats are within a two light-second radius of the explosion.”
“What’s the status of our ships in orbit?” Spencer asked.
After a brief pause, Truesworth answered, “All three appear okay, Captain. They’re moving away from the explosion though.”
“Damned strange,” Spencer mumbled. “Why would we blow it up when we already had control over it?”
“Message from Envoy-Three going out to Claymore, Captain,” Truesworth announced. He touched his console and the voice-only message played.
“To BRS Claymore, this is Assistant Secretary Neal. Claymore and her consorts will conduct recovery operations of the lifeboats in your vicinity. Once completed, you will dock with the command orbital at Pallene and prepare to receive my agents to assist in the transfer of their occupants to the orbital’s detention facility. Neal out.”
Heskan sat in quiet contemplation, wondering if Lombardi had made it off Phoenix.
“We’re getting a comm request, Captain,” Truesworth said and split the wall screen into halves. The optical of the recovery operations shunted to the left, and the image of Secretary Neal filled the right.
“Captain Spencer, this is Assistant Secretary Neal.”
“Hello, Mr. Secretary, we’re receiving you, sir,” Spencer acknowledged.
Without formality, Neal informed, “Captain, I’m pulling my I.S. detail off of Kite. I’m going to need them on the orbital soon. I want you to task some of your crewmembers to safeguard the seventeen prisoners aboard your ship until I can arrange for their transfer to the orbital.”
Spencer nodded. “Understood, sir. Kite’s down to sixty-seven sailors but I’ll find a way to keep our prisoners guarded.”
“Good,” Neal said with a curt nod. “I’m recalling my agents now. Please send your people to relieve them immediately, Captain. Neal out.” The transmission closed.
Spencer brought a worried hand to his brow. He looked at Heskan. “How did you cope with the shortage of manpower, sir? What was left of our marines was transferred off Kite yesterday and I can’t spare seventeen men to babysit the pilots and Selvaggio.”
“Thirty-four,” Truesworth corrected. “That’s assuming you make them work twelve-hour shifts.”
Spencer let loose an exasperated snort and shook his head despondently.
Heskan smiled at his fortune. “Captain, Secretary Neal said ‘safeguard.’ Why not consolidate them into a big compartment like a rec room and then just post a couple guards at the door. Maybe move some cots into the room for the night.” Heskan leaned back in his chair. “Neal will probably send for them in the next day or two anyway. I think Secretary Brewer told me that his transport for the prisoners was diving into Anthe soon.” This was a lie but it helped calm Spencer.
“I don’t know…” Spencer looked down.
“Just task some of your remaining gunners,” Heskan suggested. “Kite is docked to a command orbital and the turrets are already cold.”
Truesworth turned from his station to face Spencer. “It’s not like they’re going to try anything anyway, Captain. They aren’t Hollarans.”
“Yeah,” Spencer conceded. “I guess that would work. Chief, can you set up a schedule?”
Brown grunted, “Yeah, will do, Capt’n.”
Heskan rose from his chair. “The order is entered, Captain. Kite is all yours.”
Spencer stood and reached out to shake Heskan’s hand. “Thank you, sir. Good luck.”
* * *
The newswoman’s portrait filled the enormous wall screen situated over the bar in “The Ruddy Kingfisher.” She wore a bright red blazer with a transmitter clipped to its lapel. “Brevic naval officials confirmed that the Hollaran warship orbiting Anthe Four was destroyed after, and I quote, ‘she had revealed all of her secrets.’ Personnel overseeing the ship’s destruction evacuated safely via lifeboat.”
The image centered on the reporter shifted slightly as she turned to an impeccably dressed man wearing an Anthe Council pin on his collar. “Councilman Drewey, why bother destroying the Hollaran ship since she was already under Brevic control?”
The camera focused on the man who smiled and answered, “I’m glad you asked, Shelly.” He pointed dramatically at the camera and spoke in a commanding demeanor. “Let this show of force be a demonstration to any Hollaran who thinks they can enter the Republic with destruction on their mind and murder in their heart…”
Heskan rolled his eyes as he looked away from the screen and sipped his beer. The drink was a full-bodied Maerzen. Across his table, Vernay sat casually studying a similar drink in her own hand. Both wore civilian clothing. The dark fabric of Heskan’s long-sleeved shirt felt wrong after so many years in uniform, but he had to admit it was comfortable. The material was lighter and breathed better than the more rugged construction of the standard duty uniform he spent most of his time wearing. Vernay had somehow found an Anthe Scrapper jersey and matched it to a dark pair of pants. The oversized jersey provided contrast to her form-fitting slacks. Her long hair was free from its customary single braid.
The incredible noise during the bar’s happy hour made it impossible to hear conversations farther than a meter away. Heskan smacked his lips after a deep pull from his beverage. “That really hits the spot. Where’s this beer from?”
Vernay took a swig and answered,
“Bavaria, originally, though I doubt this keg came from there.”
Heskan was enjoying the complex flavors when a man in a long, dark coat and wearing reflective glasses sauntered behind Vernay. He leaned close to Vernay and said in a mysterious, deep voice, “An old man walks alone in the moonlight.”
Vernay grinned immediately and looked up at Truesworth. Her expression became stone as she replied in a grave tone, “He is eating a chili-dog; I repeat, he is eating a chili-dog.”
The pair laughed while Heskan looked around the bar nervously. “I’m glad you two can make jokes when we’re fugitives.”
Truesworth pulled a stool out from under the table and sat next to Vernay. “Stacy, doesn’t someone have to be after you in order to be a fugitive?”
Vernay nodded and looked at Heskan. “He has a point, Captain. I don’t think we get to be fugitives until someone actually figures out that we warned Phoenix.”
Heskan looked quickly around the bar again at the mention of rank. “Stacy,” he asked earnestly, “why do you insist on calling me ‘Captain?’ I’m not a captain and I don’t have a command.”
“Details,” Vernay replied and gestured uncaringly as if waving away an insect. “It’s basically your first name by now.”
Truesworth grinned and bobbed his head. “She has a point, Captain.”
“Consider yourselves reprimanded,” Heskan growled.
“Stacy,” Truesworth asked, “don’t you have to actually be in good standing with some military before you can actually be repri—”
“Shut up!” Heskan howled. He quickly took a sip of beer to cover his smile. Afterwards, he reached for a cracker made from aridgrain and munched audibly while Vernay giggled. The two young officers’ jokes did not bother him but he had thought a lot about the future and the consequences of what they would be attempting. He had to be sure they understood the gravity of the situation. After another pull from his mug, Heskan said in a low voice, “You do realize the stakes here, right? They will find out about us, especially when we move forward.”
Both Truesworth and Vernay nodded. Their expressions became somber.
“Good,” Heskan said. “Have you thought about your families? I don’t know if we can just disappear inside the Republic after this.”
Truesworth gestured nonchalantly. “I’m from Sao. My parents favored reunification with the Federation. They’ll probably be proud of me.”
The Brevic Sao star system, along with others along the Republic’s eastern border with the Federation, underwent a change of heart thirty years ago over which Terran government most aligned with its beliefs. The same rigid efficiency of the Republic that looked so promising one hundred years ago had grown wearisome after two generations. When several border systems threatened reunification with the Federation, the Republic did what was necessary to preserve unity.
In contrast to Truesworth’s indifference, the first real look of concern shaded Vernay’s face. “Thalassans are pretty patriotic,” she conceded. “I can only hope my mom and dad understand. I will get word to them somehow and they will know my side of the story.”
“I’m glad you two have thought about this because even if we’re successful, it will be tough on them,” Heskan said. Heskan’s last remaining family member, his father, had died ten years earlier. Jacob Heskan had served Bree for sixteen years before being medically retired and given a job on Dione’s primary planet.
“Selvaggio’s folks will understand too, Captain,” Truesworth said. “They are strong supporters of the Republic but family always comes first for them and I think they’d rather see Diane shamed but free than imprisoned on bogus charges.” He grabbed a cracker. “Same thing goes for Gables.”
“Well,” Heskan replied, “you know the Hollarans will want out.”
“We’re still going to try to get them back to the Commonwealth, Captain?” Truesworth asked. “You know, it’s going to be hard enough freeing the seventeen on Kite.” He shrugged timidly and added, “Just saying…”
“I’m keeping my promise to Isabella,” Heskan insisted. “You don’t have to help. I’ll understand.”
“We’re all with you, sir,” Vernay promised. “To the end.” Breaking her eye contact, she absentmindedly rotated her mug with a hand as she asked, “Sir, do you even know if Komandor Lombardi made it off of Phoenix?”
“No, Stacy, I don’t.” He drained his mug and brought it down firmly on the table. “It doesn’t matter. I’m keeping this promise for myself as much as for her.”
Vernay nodded and raised her glass and downed the final third of her beer in one tilt. Banging the mug on the table, she tapped rapidly onto a datapad to order a second round.
“Pretty fast and loose with my datapad, aren’t you?” Truesworth joked. “Remember, I’m only making jay-gee pay and something tells me I’m going to get a lot of unpaid vacation soon.”
“The datapad is staying with me anyway, Jack,” Heskan said while grabbing more crackers. “Speaking of vacation, Stacy, how much time do you have until you’ve missed your ‘report no later than’ date?” He popped the crackers into his mouth and crunched loudly.
“I was supposed to ship out on the Onyx Expanse this afternoon. It will dive into Carme in nine days but I don’t have to report in for two more weeks after that.” She looked upward and rolled her eyes. “It figures, I booked a nice room. What a waste of credits.”
Heskan looked to Truesworth, who was still laboring through the first third of his drink. “I’m still assigned to Kite,” Truesworth said. “I think I’m, like, the second officer after Captain Spencer and Lieutenant Welch from Engineering.”
Heskan tapped his chest. “I’m good for three weeks. I think we’re going to need that time to find a ship.”
A server drew near the table with three mugs. She placed them onto the surface and picked up the two empties. Truesworth looked at his half-full mug and sighed. After the server left, he asked, “Why, sir? If we actually do free the Hollarans, can’t we just steal Kite? It’s a ghost ship.”
Heskan grabbed his new mug. “No,” he said pointedly. “First, that would pit us against some of our own friends. Think of Chief Brown, for one. Second, running in a Brevic Navy destroyer seems just a touch conspicuous. It would be out of place wherever we go. Finally, I’m not taking the Brevic Navy’s cutting-edge escort destroyer design and delivering it to the Commonwealth.” He looked at his friends. “I know we have problems with the Republic but that would be playing with consequences that make my head spin.”
He returned his mug to the tabletop. “On that topic, and I cannot emphasize this enough.” Heskan looked soberly at each officer and stated unequivocally, “There will be no killing.” His hard stare threatened to bore through his companions as he continued, “I mean it. We aren’t stealing ships from the Navy. We aren’t killing loyal Brevic citizens.”
Both nodded happily in agreement. “Then how, Captain?” Vernay asked.
Heskan smiled darkly and looked into Vernay’s eyes. “Ever been to Erriapius, Stacy? I’ve booked a private sloop to take you there. It leaves late tomorrow night. Before then, you have a lot of reading ahead of you; and you, Jack, have a lot of writing to do.” Heskan pulled out a folded sheet of paper and slid it toward Truesworth.
“Wow, Captain Heskan going old school,” Truesworth jested. He unfolded the paper and began reading.
Vernay’s face twisted in confusion. “A private charter? Isn’t that a bit excessive for us, Captain?”
“It only carries twenty-five passengers, though I’m not going to be one of them,” Heskan answered. “Nonetheless, most of the cabins will be filled.”
Truesworth looked at Heskan from behind the paper with a furrowed brow. “Uh, Captain, I thought you said ‘no killing?’”
Chapter 27
Sitting in his room on the Anthe orbital, Heskan leaned back and exhaled slowly to ease his nerves. “Your comm call is going through, Commander,” the assistant displayed on Heskan’s datapa
d said as she smiled at him. “One moment and I’ll forward the channel to Secretary Brewer.”
His datapad screen flashed and Brewer’s face appeared. “Mr. Secretary, I just wanted to say that I’m taking that vacation you suggested.” Heskan said. “I’m headed down to Pallene tonight. I’ll be staying in Dryas, seeing the sights. I might even rent a one-man sailboat and sail on real water for a change. You’ll still be able to contact me if I’m needed.”
“Excellent, Garrett,” Brewer approved. “Time away from this incident will do you good.” His dark eyes narrowed and he grumbled, “It’s going to take a few weeks to get things sorted out and the Hollarans safely transferred to Titan. I’m going to break that bitch in the interrogation room and find out how she escaped our gift in the hangar.”
Upon hearing news of Lombardi’s survival, Heskan strained to avoid smiling. “Uh, I’m sure you will, Mr. Secretary.” He was grinning now. Stop it, Heskan! “Well,” he rushed, “I just wanted you to know I was still in pocket over the next few weeks, sir.” He bit hard into his lower lip, trying to remove his smile.
Brewer nodded and reached up to tap his datapad. Heskan’s own flashed to its cover screen.
“What are you grinning at?” Vernay asked from the opposite side of the room.
“Lombardi made it,” Heskan said with a wide smile. “He didn’t call her out by name but it could only be her.”
“Well, isn’t that grand.” She checked a wall clock. “We should get going.”
“We still have lots of time,” Heskan protested. “We don’t want to be too early.”
“Really?” Vernay asked as she arched an eyebrow. “Captain If-You’re-Late-You’re-Unacceptable is complaining about being early?”
* * *
Jack Truesworth walked down the empty corridors of Kite. The hallway’s illumination was at its nighttime setting although still bright enough to reflect in his well-shined, black shoes. Despite working his entire day shift and having been off-duty for several hours now, he still wore the Brevic blue service uniform. He took a deserted elevator down to Deck Five and unconsciously began to hum a tune he had not thought of since his childhood. Absentmindedly, he tossed the thick roll of Grizzly Grip tape into the air and caught it. The elevator doors silently opened to a desolate hallway.