No Safe Harbor: The Silver Liner

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No Safe Harbor: The Silver Liner Page 23

by Daniel Sullivan


  “She’s gone,” Fiona cried, collapsing on the love seat next to him. “She’s gone … I loved that girl and she’s gone!”

  The captain pulled his wife close, kissing her forehead. There was nothing he could say; a girl they had watched over and bonded with had been taken from them and replaced by someone else. He contemplated turning the ship around and leaving whoever was left from the Liberty in space, just in case it was Tracht. Clenching his fists, he hissed as he inhaled, knowing that as angry as he was, he still could not leave anyone to die in space, not even Colonel Tracht.

  It had been eight days since Jax had joined Gifford’s in her pod. He had made it without any complications after lashing the two pods together. She had greeted him with a hug, but after his giving her the sit-rep and the two discussing their predicament, they had spent the past eight days mostly making small talk and reminiscing about past missions.

  He was seated across from her, but on the eighth day, the captain motioned for him to sit next to her.

  “Sit with me,” was all she said.

  He took the offered seat with a polite, “Yes, ma’am,” but was not sure where this was going. He had never been this physically close to the captain before and when he was seated and buckled in, she shifted so that she could face him more easily.

  “Sitting across from you makes talking easier, Captain.”

  “I don’t need to see you to talk. We can even talk electronically without being in the same room,” she countered. “I wanted to be close to you.”

  “Captain?”

  “Without a ship, it’s a hollow rank,” she laughed. “Come on, Donavan; it’s just us. Call me Carol. For once, let’s just be two people. No rank, no responsibility … just regular people.”

  “We’re stuck in an escape pod with little hope of rescue,” he mused. “Okay, Carol; why not?” He had known Captain Gifford’s for over a decade and considered her a good friend, but had always maintained an air of professionalism with her; she was, after all, his commanding officer. As he pondered her increasingly familiar manner, Carol reached over and took his hand.

  “Thank you, Donavan. If we aren’t rescued, I want to know that I died with someone I care for.”

  “I always hoped that I would either die in battle or in the company of a friend,” he replied, somewhat nervously.

  “I am your friend, Donavan; and more, if you’re willing.”

  “Are you … flirting with me?”

  “Very badly, apparently,” she laughed. “Hope you don’t mind; I don’t … flirt very well … or often. But if I’m going to die in space, I’m not wasting the opportunity; not with you sitting right next to me, alone in an escape pod.”

  He had never thought much about relationships; soldiering and the marines was his life. Jax had hardly been chaste; he had, as many of his fellows, taken advantage of physical companionship while on shore leave and had even enjoyed casual sex with fellow soldiers. But Gifford’s had always been the captain to him. With their lives potentially ending in less than a month, he allowed himself to wonder just how deeply her feelings ran.

  She was not a ‘pretty girl,’ like Ms. Carlisle was; Gifford’s was tall, muscular, wore no makeup and kept her straight, red hair in a tight bun. She had what many considered masculine features and was often called Captain Man-jaw by the soldiers when they thought he wasn’t listening, some even speculating that Gifford’s had once been male. None of that mattered to him; Captain Gifford’s was a marine like himself and had fought at his side in some of the most harrowing battles of the Colonial Conflict. She had inspired him from the moment he met her; a natural leader, a brilliant tactician and a decorated officer, Carol Gifford’s was, in his opinion, the embodiment of the Corps. It was a bit of a shock to him to have a woman he viewed as one of his heroes flirting with him, though not an unpleasant shock.

  “So … you’re a friend and … more than a friend?”

  She sighed, deflating, then straightened up and gathered her courage as though she were heading into battle. “I’d like to be more than just friends … if we survive this. Oh, god, this is really hard for me, but if we survive, I’d really like to be more than just friends. If this is freaking you out, please just forget I said any of this and I’ll just shut up.”

  “I’d like that,” he said.

  “What? Me to shut up?” She looked a bit indignant and embarrassed.

  “No, Carol,” he replied, chuckling. “I’d like to have a deeper relationship with you. I’ve always admired you; you’re one of my heroes, you know?”

  “Really?”

  “To me, you were the Corps. After we transitioned to the fleet, you were the embodiment of Navy,” he continued. “All that corporate nonsense that I know Tracht is neck deep in is enough to make me want to puke, but serving with you? I can look past that stuff. I can serve with honor.”

  “Funny,” she laughed. “I think of you the same way. There’s a reason I bent over backwards to keep you at my side, you know. They even accused me of having an affair with you; and I’d wished they had been correct. I hoped you would have seen it, but …”

  “Sorry, Carol. When it comes to relationships, the direct approach always works best with me.”

  “Me too.”

  “This very much against regs, you know?”

  Her eyes twinkled as she smiled. “If we survive this, we’re entitled to break a few regs, don’t you think?” With that, she craned her neck and leaned over to kiss him.

  Jax leaned towards her, savoring the moment, when they were suddenly bathed in light. A ship had come upon them, search lights glaring. Someone had found them. But were they friend or foe?

  The Selene decelerated to sub-supersonic speeds, coming upon the debris field left by the Phantasm. The ship had been blown into many pieces, with large chunks of the hull floating, some still burning. Charred and ruptured escape pods told of a grim fate for those who had escaped and the bodies of people who could not get to escape pods had been blown into space, now floating amid the debris. Amid the field was the source of the signal; two intact escape pods.

  “Looks legit,” said Kendrick.

  “For whoever these poor bastards are,” said Kang, “it’s a good thing we came back.”

  “Hale them, Ms. Keyes,” Kendrick ordered.

  “Yes, sir,” said Amanda, keying up the mic. “Liberty escape pods, this is the star liner Selene. Do you copy?”

  “We copy, star liner Selene,” replied a woman’s voice. “This is Captain Carol Gifford’s of the U.S.S. Liberty. Our ship has been destroyed.”

  “Stand by for extraction,” Amanda advised. “Transfer everyone to one pod. We’ll bring you into our cargo bay once we receive confirmation. Keyes out.”

  They watched as two people transferred from one pod to the other, making Kendrick glad that escape pods had air locks. While the Liberty’s survivors prepared for extraction, Kendrick sent Cyrus a message asking him to suit up and go to the cargo bay air lock and await the captain’s arrival. It was not long before Gifford’s signaled their readiness. At the touch of a button, the outer cargo bay door opened and Kendrick began maneuvering the ship so as to bring the escape pod in by having the Selene essentially swallow it.

  “Don’t you want to space walk and attach tow lines and bring it in?” asked Amanda. “You’ll damage the ship if you mess it up!”

  “Nope,” he replied.

  “Even without the computer?” she pled. “The Ai is down, so there’s no computer backup?”

  “I brought you in the same way,” he revealed. “Coulda used the Ai, but I prefer to fly my ship, not just input commands.” As he spoke, Kendrick deftly positioned the opening of the outer bay to receive the pod, then pulsed the maneuvering rockets until the pod was safely inside and closed the door.

  “Pod secure, Captain,” came Cyrus’ voice over the intercom. “Pressurizing the outer cargo bay.”

  “All right, Cyrus,” replied the captain, “I’m on my way.”
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  “That,” said Amanda with admiration, “was impressive! Especially with a ship this large. You didn’t even scuff the pod! You must be a master at Operation.”

  “Undefeated,” he laughed, as he floated from his chair. “Kang, come with me. Amanda, you have the bridge.”

  “Does that make me … Commander Keyes?” Amanda asked.

  “Maybe,” Kendrick said. “Just keep your halo on.”

  Kendrick, Kang, and Father O’Carmody met Fiona in the Nexus and made their way to the cargo bay, where they met Cyrus. The inner bay was still closed, allowing them to jettison the pod if things went south. Cyrus was in a full space suit with mag boots. Kendrick went to the locker and grabbed his own suit, Mun, the priest and Fiona following suit.

  “Mag boots, everyone,” said Kendrick. “And tethers.”

  “Why tethers and mag boots?” asked Kang.

  “So Keyes can blow the airlock and our guests can be blown out into space should they prove hostile,” explained Cyrus.

  “While we remain safely attached,” finished Ronan. “Good call, Captain.”

  “Not to mention that it’s weightless in this part of the ship,” Royce added. “We’ll go in through the personnel entrance. It serves as its own airlock. Once we’re in and I close the door, it will depressurize. Then, we’ll enter the cargo bay, attach the tethers and crack open that pod. I don’t need to remind you to ready your weapons and make sure you have your weapons secured so that if they come out of your hand, they won’t float away. Remember, Martins could have killed the Liberty survivors and planted his own men. We don’t lower our weapons until we’re damn sure it ain’t a trap. Any questions?”

  Kang shook his head in disbelief. “Do you really think this could still be a trap?”

  “Unlikely, but I ain’t takin’ no chances, Kang,” the captain replied.

  With that, they all put on their helmets and followed Kendrick’s orders to the letter. Once their tethers were attached, Kendrick pressurized the airlock and they made their way slowly to the escape pod and knocked on the door, indicating the occupants to exit. Then, they stood back, weapons readied. The door opened and a lady in a U.S. Starfleet uniform bearing lieutenant’s bars floated out, raising her hands upon seeing weapons pointed at her. Kang politely relieved her of her sidearm. She was followed by a marine, an older man whose uniform bore the insignia of a sergeant major, who grudgingly gave up his sidearm to the gunner.

  Finally, a tall man in a Marine Corps officer’s uniform bearing the insignia of a colonel emerged from the pod, a broad smile on his face. Kendrick immediately recognized Tracht and lowered his weapon, indicating to the others to do the same, then removed his helmet. He nodded to Fiona, who began examining the marines for injury.

  “Captain Royce,” Colonel Tracht said amiably. “This is above and beyond the call of duty, my friend and I will make damn sure that High Command gets a full report on the bravery and honor of you and your crew. Agreement or no, most men in your shoes would have left us to die. But not you! Damn good to see you, Royce!”

  “Welcome aboard the Selene, Colonel,” Kendrick replied coolly.

  “We have a wounded soldier still in the pod,” the colonel informed him. “She’s got leg injuries; bad ones.”

  “Fiona, see to her, please,” Kendrick ordered. “Ronan, Cyrus, give the doctor any assistance you can.”

  As Cyrus and Ronan entered the pod with Fiona to see to the injured soldier, a man and a woman, both wearing space suits, floated out. Royce assumed that they were the ones who had transferred from the other pod. Removing her helmet, revealing red hair bordering on orange, pulled back in a tight bun, the woman breathed in the Selene’s air deeply. Unlike the others, Kendrick did not even bother to take their weapons. The man was easily as big as Cyrus and looked muscular even in a space suit. The woman was not petite either and was nearly as tall as Kendrick. The captain estimated her to be just one or two-centimeters shy of his own One-hundred-eighty-five-centimeter height. Her face had robust features and her jaw was very strong, stronger than that of most men he knew, himself included.

  “Captain Royce,” the woman said in a contralto voice. “Captain Carol Gifford’s of lost U.S.S. Liberty. Pleasure to meet you; and a big thank you for the assist.”

  Kendrick could not place her accent, but she spoke very formally, sounding almost English, though her U.S. Naval insignia indicated that she was American. He shook her offered hand.

  “Captain Ken Royce, S.S. Selene,” Royce replied, shaking her hand. “That beacon of yours still transmitting?”

  “It is,” she replied.

  “Good,” said Kendrick. “We’ll jettison the pod into space and leave it; hopefully, if our nemesis returns, they’ll either take the time to examine them, or simply shoot them and assume you’re all dead. Now, Mister Mun, please return their weapons.”

  “Are you sure about that?” asked Kang.

  “Consider it an olive branch,” said Kendrick. “Besides, they have no reason for hostility; I’ve agreed to the Colonel’s terms, so killing us is counterproductive.”

  The big soldier removed his helmet. “Commander Donavan Jax.” As soon as his helmet was off, Kendrick took a few steps back. The man looked puzzled, then looked at Gifford’s and back at Kendrick. “Have we met?”

  “Not you … but others like you,” Kendrick said warily. He looked at Tracht. “I know what he is, Colonel. Explain yourself.”

  Tracht and Gifford’s exchanged glances as Cyrus and Fiona finished removing the injured Ms. Carlisle from the pod. Fiona gasped and held her hands to her mouth when she saw Jax’s face and Cyrus raised his weapon upon seeing Kendrick and Fiona’s reactions. Kendrick motioned for Cyrus to lower his weapon, which the merc did, but he kept a wary eye on Commander Jax.

  “Someone mind telling me what’s going on?” The commander looked at Gifford’s, then Tracht and back at Kendrick.

  Kendrick shook his head, and then looked at Gifford’s. “He doesn’t know, does he?”

  “No, and neither do I,” she replied. All of them looked at Tracht, whose expression said that he clearly did know.

  “Captain Royce,” Tracht said cheerfully, “that information is on a need to know basis and much as I like you, you don’t. And neither does anyone else aboard.”

  Kendrick looked at Fiona, then back at Jax. “I pity you, Commander. Heather didn’t know either.”

  Jax looked at Gifford’s, who shrugged. The Liberty’s skipper glared at Tracht, but the colonel remained unfazed by her obvious anger as Kendrick brought them into the ship from the cargo hold. Once the Liberty survivors were in the Selene’s Nexus, Kendrick dumped the pod, hoping that it would throw off any pursuers. The captain was good at reading body language and what he saw of Gifford’s and Jax told him that they were close. He felt sorry for Gifford’s, knowing that her friend could be turned into someone else at the whim of men like Tracht and he wept.

  Chapter 18

  Fiona’s Legacy

  “That’s classified, Commander,” Colonel Tracht admonished. “Even if I wanted to tell you, I couldn’t, not without authorization!” The colonel hated being on the defensive, and their rescue by Captain Royce had placed him in a position with Gifford’s and Jax that he had never anticipated.

  “Royce can,” Gifford’s interjected, standing with her arms folded, leaning against the door frame. “Apparently, so can Doctor Keane. So how about it, Colonel? Are you going to tell my first officer why a civilian captain looked at him like he’s some kind of monster, and then said he pitied him?”

  “No,” Tracht replied without hesitation or remorse. “I like both of you; hell, we’ve bled together, but there are some things that I can’t reveal, even to you, without authorization.”

  Jax shook his head, then looked back at Tracht, an angry, defiant look in his eyes and his jaw set. For a moment, the colonel thought that Jax was about to pulverize him and he had no doubt that the commander could easily accomplish that. Thankfu
lly, the commander contained his anger.

  “Am I dismissed, Colonel?” Jax asked with frustration.

  “Yes, soldier,” Tracht replied, breathing a sigh of relief. He had once seen the commander pry apart magnetically sealed blast doors with nothing but his bare hands. With lifelong martial training and over a decade of military experience, fighting in some of the deadliest warzones in history, Jax was like a god of war. Tracht had no desire to face the two-meter tall, One-hundred-twelve-kilo Donovan Jax.

  Jax saluted him and left, discretion being the better part of valor. Gifford’s, however, did not. She deftly stepped into the room after Jax had left, the door closing behind her.

  “We’ve trusted you, sir,” she said coldly. “I lost most of my crew and my ship to that monster, Lorgen … a monster you created and turned loose. I’ve bled for you, Colonel. And through it all, Commander Jax has bled with me. If I find out you’ve fucked with him in some way, I’ll make you answer for it.”

  “We’re friends, Carol,” he warned, “but I’m still your commanding officer, so have a care.”

  “Don’t you go pulling rank on me, Colonel,” she spat. “I don’t know what game you’re playing, but we’re people, not chess pieces and I won’t watch one of mine used in that way. And after what you did with Heather Dalrymple, I don’t even know what to think, Colonel. I would have never thought you capable of doing that with another human being. I’ve known you for almost two decades and only now do I realize that … I never knew you.”

  Cyrus had accompanied Kendrick and Fiona in showing Tracht and his soldiers to their rooms. With that task completed, he stepped into the lift with the captain and the doctor. It was time for some answers about Jax.

  “Now that Tracht and his associates are bottled up,” Cyrus began, “tell me what this Jax is.”

  “The best way to show you is to just show you,” the captain said as he manually dialed up the Nexus. Normally, the captain would have simply spoken his destination to the Ai, but the Ai had never come back on. Cyrus feared that the Ai was lost permanently.

 

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