No Safe Harbor: The Silver Liner

by Daniel Sullivan

  “Where are you?”

  “I’m caught! I’m stuck in the forward gunnery. Price got out, but I got pinned. I think my leg’s broken.”

  “Carol,” Jax said, not knowing who Carol was talking to. “Everything all right?”

  She had a split second to decide what to do. Jax could probably free the trapped woman and get her to the pods without breaking a sweat, but he was Gifford’s’ responsibility, just as Ms. Carlisle was. “Go on, Donavan. I’ll see to it.” With that, she closed the doors to the pod she was about to enter and hit the button, jettisoning it without her and hopefully saving the lives of those inside. Besides Tracht’s pod, there was still one empty pod left. She could get Ms. Carlisle, get to it and escape.

  “You sure?”

  “That’s an order, Commander!” With that, Carol turned and propelled herself down the corridor, leaving Jax to hopefully escape with the colonel. On her way, she hit the supply locker outside of the forward gunnery and found a space suit. Donning it quickly, as she was not sure how much longer they would have life support, she went to Ms. Carlisle. The woman was trapped between a piece of conduit and a bulkhead, both legs pinned, and her right leg most certainly broken. Carol grabbed a pry bar from the tool kit and began trying to free the trapped helmsman.

  “Thank you, Captain,” Carlisle said, almost sobbing. “It hurts!”

  “We’ll get you out,” she replied, hoping that she could make good on her words. Now, she was really wishing she had brought Jax along; this was proving to be a two-person job.

  “I don’t want to die …”

  The conduit suddenly broke free, rewarding the captain’s efforts. “Come on, Ms. Carlisle. We have an escape pod to catch!”

  Gifford’s knew that there was probably nobody left to rescue, but she had to make one final sweep. If Carlisle had been stuck, there might be others, others who were unconscious or otherwise unable to communicate. She would rather go down with the ship than live wondering if she had done all she could to save survivors.

  “Gravity’s gone. Can you float to the pods without my help?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” replied Ms. Carlisle, puzzled.

  “Then do it, now. And, Carlisle, it’s been an honor.”

  “Ma’am?”

  “You heard me. Now go!”

  Carlisle saluted and took off as ordered, doing her best to float now that the Liberty had lost gravity. Carol made her way back to the bridge, hoping the sensors could locate any survivors. There appeared to be none, though she knew that sensors were not fool proof. Of greater concern was that the reactor had been affected by the attack and was in the process of overloading. The Liberty would vaporize itself in a matter of minutes. She took a few moments to do something she had not done since she was a child; pray.

  Ms. Carlisle was thrilled to see Commander Jax waiting. She could hear the colonel’s voice, though she could not make out his words. He sounded angry that the commander had not launched the pod, but Jax seemed unperturbed. She used the hand rails to move as fast as she could, but he came to her and took her free hand.

  “I’ve got you,” he assured as he helped her to the pod. “Where’s Carol?”

  “I don’t know. She ordered me back to the pods and said she had to do something. She said it had been an honor.”

  “No!” Jax looked like he was about to go for the captain, but the blast doors fore and aft of the pods closed off the corridor.

  “Commander Jax, get to your pod,” came the captain’s voice over the speakers. “It’s been an honor, Donavan. Now get the Colonel and Ms. Carlisle to safety. I’ll never make it in time!”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “It’s been an honor … Carol.”

  Ms. Carlisle thought she would cry as Jax got her into the escape pod, placing himself between her and a very upset Colonel Tracht. She was glad to have the buffer, as Tracht was fuming, but for the first time since meeting the powerful commander, she saw tears in his eyes. She realized that her own cheeks were moist with tears as well.

  “’Bout damn time,” the colonel spat.

  “No one gets left behind, sir,” Jax replied respectfully as he closed the hatch. “You of all people should know that.” With that, the commander hit the release button and the pod rocketed from the ship.

  Chapter 17

  Moral Imperative

  Jax sat silently, brooding over the events that had culminated in the destruction of the Liberty and Carol’s heroic sacrifice. Wreckage from the ship surrounded them and they were fortunate that they had not been struck by any of it. They also faced the grim reality that Lorgen had shot all of the escape pods except their own; his waiting on Gifford’s had likely saved them from the same fate. Poor Ms. Carlisle, though; the ensign’s legs were a mess and she needed medical treatment badly. Ms. Henderson sat nervously with Marine Sergeant Gardner, the other soldier that he and Carol had rescued, who slept, snoring loudly. Carol … Jax would miss her. So many things left unsaid and unasked.

  “Sorry to interrupt your brooding there, Mister Jax,” Tracht said, pulling him from his contemplations. “I just wanted to tell you that I was wrong.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I was wrong,” Tracht repeated. “I snapped at you before we escaped. God, I’ve been running that goddam space station for so long, I’ve forgotten how to put my trust in my men; and women,” he added, looking at the very uncomfortable Ms. Carlisle.

  “Thanks, sir,” she said weakly.

  “For what it’s worth, Jax,” Tracht continued, “I know you and Gifford’s were close. Damn, that woman was one of the best. And a good friend too.”

  “What’ll happen to us now?” The question came from Ms. Henderson, the now destroyed Liberty’s communications officer.

  “We wait for pick up,” Jax said grimly. “And hope that our food, water and breathable air outlast the waiting period. If they don’t, and as far out as we are, that’s very likely, then we either starve to death or asphyxiate. The best we can … what’s that?” He looked out the porthole when a flash of light caught his eyes.

  “Another pod,” Tracht said. “And they’re messaging us! It’s Morse code!”

  Henderson looked at and followed the sequence of flashes, probably from a flashlight. “It’s just random letters and numbers,” she said finally.

  “They’re not random!” Jax’s face lit up and he eagerly removed his own flashlight and signaled back. The other pod signaled in return. “They’re command codes … codes only known by two people; myself and Captain Gifford’s! She’s alive!”

  The pods had radios and with Gifford’s’ identity established, Jax activated the transceiver and keyed up the mic. “Commander Jax reporting, Captain.”

  “Damn good to hear your voice, Donavan,” she replied informally. “Wasn’t sure I’d make it to that last pod, but I couldn’t leave until I was damn sure there wasn’t anyone still trapped!”

  “Nice work, Captain,” Tracht said, leaning in as Jax keyed up. “You’re a goddam hero, Gifford’s!”

  “Thank you, sir,” Gifford’s replied. “Let’s hope our luck holds; I’d hate to make a dramatic escape only to die in an escape pod. Too bad we can’t couple our pods together and double our air supply.”

  “Who says we can’t?” Jax replied.

  “What are you getting at,” Tracht asked.

  “The pods have an air lock; it’s small, but big enough for one person,” the commander explained. “I was trained for this and I have a space suit on too; I can attach a line to our pod, use the jets in the suit to get to the captain’s pod. Then we bring them together. It’ll keep us from drifting apart and make rescue easier. Plus, her pod has food, water and breathable air for six people. We’ve got five over here, so if I migrate to her pod, we can extend the time we can hold out.”

  “Damn, Commander,” Tracht exclaimed. “No wonder Gifford’s made sure to keep you around. The woman knows talent, that’s for damn sure. You’re the onl
y one who can actually do this and the only one with a space suit, so while protocol dictates that we send Henderson and Gardner, reality dictates that we send you.”

  “Come on over to my cabin, Commander,” Carol said in a low, husky voice.

  Jax smiled, shaking his head. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Kendrick retreated to his cabin for about an hour once he was certain that the Selene was well away from danger. He had not expected to get away in such an unlikely fashion, though Tracht had informed High Command of the arrangement, so Kendrick was still obligated. As he entered his cabin, he wondered if Tracht’s replacement would be as enthusiastic about the civilian captain and his ship; or the arrangement Tracht had made with them. As soon as the doors opened, Fiona greeted him with a hug and a kiss. It was getting to where this was more frequent than infrequent. I really like marriage, he thought, but why is she here?

  “Fiona, I thought you’d be in the Med Bay.”

  “I take breaks too, you know,” his wife chided. “We’ll only have about a half an hour before we’re both expected back at our respective posts. Come on; get me out of this contraption and we’ll make the most of it.”

  “I like the way you think, Mrs. Royce.”

  Time seemed to stand still and the still newlyweds retreated from reality. The disasters, the trials and the tribulations all vanished as Fiona loved him. He realized that it did not matter that they were stuck working on the United States’ pet project; they would be together and that was all that mattered now. The two of them drifted off to sleep, Kendrick dreaming of his wife as he held her close. He was just entering deep sleep when the intercom’s loud buzz startled the two of them to wakefulness.

  Fiona merely laughed and kissed him. “We can pick this up tonight, Ken. We both have posts to return to.”

  “You better believe we will,” he agreed. Then he responded to the intercom. “Royce here.”

  “Captain, you’d better get up here,” said Amanda’s voice.

  “On my way,” he said, wondering what was going on now. “Middle of nothing and they still find something that needs my attention,” he said aloud as he retrieved their clothing from the pile at the foot of the bed and got dressed, then helped Fiona dress and don the exoskeleton. He wondered if she would ever recover the full use of her limbs, or if she would need the exoskeleton for the rest of her life.

  “Good luck,” a now dressed and ambulatory Fiona said, kissing him before dashing out the door and down the hall to the Med Bay.

  Kendrick stole a few moments of quiet in the lift, savoring the feeling of diminishing gravity as the car neared the central hub. His feet slowly left the floor and finally, the car stopped and the doors opened. He then enjoyed ‘flying’ down the central corridor like Superman, on his way to the bridge. Small things, he thought. Find joy in the small things. The bridge doors opened at his approach and Kendrick announced himself upon entry.

  “So lay it on me,” he said as he floated into the bridge, deftly catching the arm of his chair and sitting down in one smooth motion.

  Keyes raised an eyebrow. “Looks like someone got some.” Kendrick shot her a disapproving look and she made an ‘ahem’ noise, then said, “Distress beacon, sir.”

  “Spaceway’s jammed with broken heroes,” he chuckled. “So how far out are they?”

  “Actually, sir, it’s behind us.”

  “Behind us? That’s impossible; we’d have come upon them already.”

  “Normally, you’d be right,” she explained, “but the signal originates from where we were stuck talking to Tracht.”

  “That ain’t good,” he noted. “So, the question is whether or not it’s a trap. That what you’re saying?”

  “Yes, sir,” Keyes replied. “Also, you should know that I’ve intercepted transmissions between the Phantasm and the Icarus. It seems that our good friend General Martins took control of the Phantasm electronically and ventilated the ship. Martins is now aboard the Phantasm with a skeleton crew and a platoon of marines, and the Icarus is headed back to base.”

  “Great,” Kendrick groaned. “So we could be heading straight into a trap.”

  “Captain, we can neither detect, nor outgun the Phantasm,” Kang reminded him.

  The captain nodded, acutely aware of just how correct his gunner was. “If we turn around and go check out this beacon, we’ll still have enough fuel to make it to Earth, but it would eliminate any further course deviations.” He chuckled. “Not that I planned any, but then, I hadn’t planned the ones we’ve made, or on having to bug out at maximum burn after our run-in with Tracht. Whose transponder is the signal reading as?”

  “United States frigate; Liberty,” said Keyes.

  “Tracht’s ship,” Kendrick noted. “Probably escape pods, given what the Liberty looked like when we bugged out.”

  “That would be my guess,” Keyes agreed.

  “That means they don’t have a lot of time,” observed Kang. “But we aren’t seriously considering …”

  Kendrick pondered it for a few moments, weighing the options. The longer he took to decide, the more fuel it would take to go back. He knew that it was probably not someone he would consider a friendly, but that did not matter.

  “Yes, we are, Kang,” said Kendrick. “I don’t leave people to die in space.”

  “But sir, what if it’s a trap?” Kang turned to Keyes. “Come on, Amanda; you tell him.”

  “I’m not the captain, Mister Mun,” replied Amanda. “Besides, Alliance starship protocol demands that any distress call be answered. Though, I personally feel like it’s a bad idea, we cannot leave them.”

  Kendrick was impressed with Amanda’s integrity. “Ms. Keyes, what’s the status of the Phantasm?”

  “No signal for the Phantasm,” she replied. “But as an Enigma class ship, there wouldn’t be.”

  “Next question,” Kendrick asked. “How much food and air are in an escape pod?”

  “U.S. military grade pods will keep occupants alive for a maximum of two months,” Keyes replied. “With no other ships in range, they’ll die if we don’t render aid.”

  Kendrick laughed, shaking his head. “Sometimes being true to who I am is highly inconvenient.” He laid in a course for the Liberty’s distress beacon. “All right, let’s go rescue us some U.S. space marines.”

  Kendrick and Kang entered the Med Bay, Fiona’s message indicating that she needed to see the captain about Heather urgently. He thought perhaps she was dying, so he brought Kang just in case it was the last time the gunner might see her. The young engineer was awake, though still restrained, Fiona seeing to her, Cyrus present standing by. In that moment, he felt as though a weight had just been lifted from his shoulder. Kang ran to her side, taking her hand.

  “Heather, I thought we’d lost you!” He then turned to Fiona. “You think she’s good to be released?”

  “Captain,” Cyrus warned. “She’s healthy, but … she’s not as she was. This is the woman who sabotaged the ship and who disabled Lena.”

  “But it’s not your fault,” Kang exclaimed, trying to reassure Heather. “You were like … hijacked! You’re not to blame.”

  “Don’t be naïve, Mun,” Heather admonished. “Heather, at least as you know her, isn’t even real.”

  “You’re very real,” the gunner protested. “And you are you again.”

  “Heather was never me,” the engineer sneered. “She was a programmed cover, deleted after it served her purpose, so you can stop doting.”

  Kendrick’s heart sank. He had held out hope that she might have awakened with a headache and no memory of the past days, but it was not to be. Heather, at least the Heather they had come to know and love, was gone.

  “She’s healthy,” announced Fiona as she lowered her stethoscope to hang at her neck. “But she’s exactly as Tracht had said; different than we remember.”

  “Remove these restraints,” Heather demanded. “If I’m awake, then you took the deal and that means you’re working with us.�
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  “If you think I’m letting you get up after what you’ve done …” Fiona began, but Kendrick shook his head.

  “Release her,” he ordered.

  “But, Captain,” Kang protested, “She’s a huge security risk, and …”

  “We don’t have a choice, Mister Mun,” Kendrick finished. “She’s part of the deal; no sense putting off the inevitable.”

  “Ken?” Fiona looked dubiously at him.

  “Do it, Fi,” he said softly. “I don’t have the energy to fight over this.”

  Cyrus was silent, a look of deep sadness in his eyes. Cyrus had become protective of the young lady who had served as Selene’s engineer. Even though the pieces were put into place before any of them had even met Heather, somehow, Kendrick felt as though they had failed the girl and the look on Cyrus’ face told him that the big merc felt the same.

  “Thank you, Captain Royce,” Heather said as Fiona removed the restraints. “I’m not your enemy, you know? We can work together, perhaps even become friends.”

  “We already did,” Kendrick replied, wiping a tear from his eye. “We already did.” He was going to say more, but he could not stomach being in the room any longer. “Mister Mun, please escort Heather to engineering, then return to your post.”

  “But Captain,” Mun protested, “What if she …”

  “There’s nothing more she can do,” Kendrick reminded him. “She’s accomplished her mission; now it’s in her best interest to keep the ship running at optimal capacity and get us home safely.” Then, he looked at Heather. “Are you even called Heather?”

  “I’m an agent; my name is unimportant,” Heather replied. “As far as all of you are concerned, Heather will do.”

  Kendrick nodded, then exited the Med Bay, Fiona right behind him, and headed straight to his cabin. He needed to rest, if only for a short while, or he would be no good to his crew. He sent a message to Amanda, informing her that she had the con for the next hour, before slipping into his cabin and pouring a glass of bourbon. As he sat on the love seat, Fiona joined him, her eyes filled with tears.