The Mutineer's Daughter

by Chris Kennedy

  Benno considered that for a moment. If Ortiz were executed, even if the CO was the one who signed the death warrant, it would be Benno’s fault. The thought neither made him run cold nor flushed him with the heat of anger or shame. If anything, he felt mildly surprised that the thought of his responsibility did not dismay him more.

  Did that mean Raoul had been right with his accusations? Had his elevation to the officer community truly changed him, made him something to be pitied and rejected, a traitor to the honorable people who had come up through the ranks with him? Was he just a token aristo, caring nothing for the plebs struggling with class aboard ship and back home?

  No. None of that. Benno rejected it outright. He was who he had always been: an honorable man. If Ortiz ended up with a noose around his neck, it was one the cowardly bastard had tied, himself, through his own actions. Benno stood by the principals of the ALS and the realities of his station, just as he always had. That was something to be lauded, not cast back at him under some twisted misinterpretation.

  Benno looked at Forrestal. “Yes, sir, I understand. I say we push the charges up for the CO to handle.”

  The Lieutenant Commander nodded, seemingly aware of how Benno’s history and background made this problematic, and dismissed him.

  Benno almost made it out of the wardroom to begin putting his people to work on repairs, but the COMMO burst back into the room. Evangeline Cramer grabbed Benno’s sleeve as she slipped by and locked gazes with him. “Wait, Warrant, you’re going to want to stay for this.”

  By the look on her face, it was anything but good news.

  She brushed by Forrestal, stopping her department head with a significant look, but she didn’t tell him what the issue was either. Instead, she bypassed everyone and stopped in front of the CO and XO. Benno turned and went back into the wardroom. The three of them engaged in a hushed, but frantic, conversation. Captain Palmer’s eyes narrowed, while the XO’s eyes grew as wide and round as saucers. Cramer held out a secure memory stick to the CO, which he took and inserted into his pad. He read the screen intently, while the XO leaned over and read over his shoulder. Her expression fanned through several distinct, conflicting emotions, but Benno couldn’t glean what the message might be about.

  All conversation in the wardroom ceased, all eyes on the COMMO, the XO, and the captain. Except for the ever-present hum of ventilation, absolute silence reigned. Finally, the CO and XO noticed and looked up from the tablet.

  Captain Palmer cleared his throat and spoke to the assembled officers. “I’m afraid I have disconcerting news to share with you. Details about conditions are…unavailable, but I’m afraid the timing of our assault and Operation Executive Amber was not completely unknown to our enemies. While they were unable to marshal sufficient strength to oppose our advance here against their front, they were able to muster enough forces to… raid some ALS worlds.”

  “What worlds?” several officers asked. Benno realized he had spoken as well.

  “None of the core worlds, I assure you!” Captain Palmer said hastily. “It appears they struck the smaller colonies along the rear of our space.”

  “What worlds!?” Benno asked again. This time his voice was the only one.

  “Warrant Officer Sanchez, please…” the XO pleaded, concern and warning in her eyes.

  Palmer scowled at Benno, the earlier magnanimity of his expression toward the formerly enlisted warrant officer lost. “The TU Navy executed decisive takeover raids against Putnam, Morgan’s Rock, New Kiev, Paradiso, Trinity…and Adelaide.”

  * * *

  Benno stood outside the captain’s office as the CO, XO, CMC, and department heads discussed matters. He wanted to be inside, to be part of whatever action plan they were working on, privy to whatever intel the fleet had passed along with the report, but he didn’t rank high enough. Even with all his experience, he was junior to the greenest ensign aboard the Puller. He was there to lead chiefs, to maintain systems, and to carry a flavor of enlisted sentiment into the wardroom, just as the Command Master Chief was there to bring the concerns of the crew directly to the CO and vice versa. Both the CMC and Benno were essential bridges to ensure harmony throughout the ship, but the decisions that mattered were made above their station.

  Thus, Benno was stuck outside the place he wanted and needed to be.

  The meeting inside broke up, and personnel began to stream out. The CMC made for the ladder leading down to the crew’s mess, where no doubt he would break the news to the rest of the crew, chief petty officers first. The Chief Engineer and Supply Officer took a different path down and aft. They looked determined, but they had looked that way ever since the battle ended. Their concern was likely less about the TU incursion into ALS space and more about completing repairs, though there was probably a greater sense of urgency with the latter.

  WEPS came out next, and he grabbed Benno’s arm and tried to draw him along, away from the CO’s doorway. “Warrant, this is neither the time nor the forum. We have to get on top of repairs to the combat systems. Okay? Come with me.”

  Benno pulled his arm out of Forrestal’s grasp and barely stopped himself from putting a fist into the man’s chest. “No! I need to know what we’re going to do. What’s the plan!?”

  Forrestal’s lips were tight over his teeth as he tried to maintain a smile over whatever expression lay beneath. “Benno, the plan isn’t finalized yet. It’s going to take a lot of brass aboard a lot of different ships in the fleet and back home to figure out the best way to respond. But the Puller can’t be part of that plan unless we’re battle-ready. So, we need to walk away—now—and get to work on repairs. You have jobs to write, remember?”

  “Forget the damn jobs! What do we know!? How devastating were the raids? When are we redeploying to kick their asses out of our systems!?”

  “What’s the commotion out there?” Captain Palmer came out of his office, scowling unhappily.

  The XO slid past him and got in between the CO, WEPS, and Benno. “I’ve got this, sir,” she said, then turned to the other two officers. “WEPS, please take Warrant Sanchez down to your office and get to work on the repair lists. Warrant Officer Sanchez, we will brief you and the other affected crew as soon as we know something solid. Until then, we have to make progress getting the Puller back online.”

  “Damn it, XO!” Benno yelled. “What do we know now? Nearly a third of the crew is from those worlds or worlds bordering them. ‘Carry on smartly’ isn’t going to work for them, and it sure isn’t gonna work for me!”

  CDR Ashton shook her head. “Please, Warrant. You’re a hero. We might well have been destroyed if you hadn’t led the combat direction system repairs—”

  “I don’t know about that…” OPS, the despised LCDR Johnson, said, smirking. He had come out of the captain’s office and was peeking over the CO’s shoulder.

  The XO glared at the interruption, then ignored OPS to continue with Benno. “There’s sure to be commendations for your efforts, but you have to get back to work. Now!”

  Benno looked at all those arrayed against him, from the concerned expressions of WEPS and the XO, to the haughty, anticipatory one from OPS, and the impatient one from the CO. None of them knew what it was like to have their home, their family, and their very lives suddenly behind enemy lines, with no idea if they had survived.

  His chest swelled in defiance. “No. I won’t. Not until someone gives me something. Bust me for insubordination if you must, Captain, but if it were your home, you’d demand to know too!”

  Johnson’s eyes narrowed, and his mouth twisted into an enraged sneer, while the XO and WEPS appeared shame-faced. Before anyone could dress Benno down, however, the captain raised a hand to halt them. “Fine. You want to know about Adelaide; here it is: two ships invaded the system and struck the Army and Navy training bases with orbital bombardment rounds. The last thing recorded before the skip drone made the transition to report was signs of dropships burning toward First Landing. The only forces on A
delaide were reserves outfitted with old, surplus gear. It’s unlikely they can hold out against a battle-ready force of Terran Marines. And the situation was much the same on the five other planets. I’m sorry, but the outlook for all of them is bleak. There, Chief Warrant Officer Sanchez. Is that what you wanted to know? Can you kindly return to your duties now?”

  WEPS nodded and tried to draw Benno back, but Benno shrugged Forrestal’s hands off. He stepped forward toward the CO, and both the XO and OPS moved to block him. “Captain, what about our response? How far out are the perimeter patrols? Are they heavy enough to interdict the invaders?”

  OPS shook his head, his red-faced anger replaced with something like bemusement. Captain Palmer cleared his throat and answered. “I’m afraid there are no perimeter patrols available. When the twin prongs of Executive Amber deployed, it left our core worlds exposed. There’s too much of the ALS’ infrastructure tied up there. So, the decision was made to…draw back and concentrate a decisive force at the center of the Alliance.”

  Benno felt confused until the captain’s words worked themselves out in his head. “Central command pulled the naval patrols out from the colonies and put them around the aristo enclaves?”

  Palmer bristled. “No, we put in necessary defenses around the core worlds. To defend Alliance infrastructure.”

  Heat bloomed in Benno’s face. “And you knew about this? Before the attacks?”

  OPS nodded. “Of course.” That earned him a glare from Commander Ashton.

  Benno clenched his fists to keep from using them to bash Johnson’s nose in. “You left the newer colonies exposed and neglected to tell anyone in the crew who might be affected!”

  The XO spoke up. “Warrant, that’s a matter of interpretation. And ethically right or wrong, it was strategically necessary if we were going to mass a big enough punch to halt Terran encroachment on ALS space. If it affected any world other than Adelaide, you would be objective enough to recognize that. Given what this decision led to, we understand your feelings. That’s why we’ve allowed you this degree of latitude. That ends now, though. Return to work, or I’ll be forced to have WEPS write you up for insubordination.”

  Benno took a deep breath and stepped back. “Insubordination? What the hell does that matter? Sorry, but I’m not done yet. When will the ships that moved to the core worlds redeploy to strike back at the invaders? With supply lines that long, I doubt the Turds could hold a siege against even a small task force.”

  No one said anything. Eventually, Captain Palmer gave him a tight, uncomfortable smile and shook his head. “There will be no redeployment. The core world infrastructure remains our greatest strategic vulnerability. We cannot send any ships from there.”

  Hope blossomed within Benno. “So, you’re redeploying from here? Captain, please, permit me to transfer to one of the ships going back! Everything I’ve done in the Navy has been for my daughter, to give her a life beyond what I, or anyone in my family, ever had. But because of that, I haven’t truly been there for her in years. I have to be allowed to help her now!”

  Another uncomfortably long silence stretched out before Palmer answered, his voice tight and controlled, but colored by rage and frustration. “No, Sanchez, there will be no redeployment from here, either. Nor will there be one from the other prong of the attack, the other Executive Amber fleet. We cannot give up our momentum now, when we’ve got them on their heels. There will be no counterattack. Central command has decided to abandon the assaulted colony worlds temporarily. I understand your personal feelings about those worlds, but in the grand scheme of things, they simply don’t matter. They constitute acceptable collateral damage. More than that, abandoning them to the TUN ties up critical resources the Terrans cannot spare, in both assault combatants and long supply lines. Their whole operation, striking at our rear as we drive through their front, is designed to make us pause, to pull back when we have a clear path to victory. But we won’t give in. This move by the TUN reeks of desperation! If we maintain our current op-plan, there’s no reason we can’t be pulling into the Sol system and Earth in just a few months! When the Terrans capitulate and no longer threaten our core worlds or the worlds along the front, then and only then can we consider re-taking our lost worlds.”

  Rage blotted out everything. Benno surged forward, but WEPS and two Masters at Arms grabbed him and held him back. When had they arrived? Who had called them to the CO’s passageway?

  No matter.

  “Damn you! That’s not acceptable!” Benno yelled. “We can’t let them just wither away, waiting for us to maybe come back, someday!”

  OPS chuckled. “It worked well enough for MacArthur when he pulled out of the Philippines in World War II.”

  Benno struggled against the three people holding him back. He glared at Johnson. “MacArthur!? What!?” Shaking his head, Benno turned back to the CO. “Damn it, sir, I’ve been loyal. I’ve served honorably and beyond the call for years. I’ve given my life to the ALS without asking for anything in return. I’m asking now! I’m demanding!! Grant me leave! Send me back with the wounded aboard the supply vessels. I can get to Adelaide from the core worlds. We can’t abandon my daughter and my people!”

  “You goddamn coward!” OPS accused.

  Benno snarled at Johnson and lashed out with his foot. The kick struck the man right between the legs, and the Operations department head dropped to the floor, rolling around in agony. “I’m not running! I want to go and fight, cabrón!” Benno yelled.

  The people holding Benno wrestled him to the floor. Pain lanced through his shoulders as they forced his arms behind his back and snapped a thick zip-tie around his wrists.

  Even tied, he was able to struggle around to face Palmer. “Please, Captain, my daughter needs me more than the Puller does. And there’s aristos on Adelaide. What about them!?”

  Palmer regarded him with naked disgust. “I always knew you weren’t officer material, Sanchez. I always knew your pleb heart would betray you and all of us someday. The aristocratic class on Adelaide? They know the sacrifices that must be made. They will face their fate with grace and calm, the exact opposite of how you’re acting. And as for your spawn and the rest of the cows and sheep you call ‘family?’ They’ll either live or die as fate and Terran mercy will it. And it’s all the better if the Earthers winnow their numbers before we re-integrate them into the ALS. Have him taken to the brig, XO.”

  CDR Ashton appeared grim. “Charges, sir?”

  “His offenses aren’t obvious? Insubordination is too minor. Charge him with failure to obey a lawful order, cowardice before the enemy, and desertion during a time of war. Oh, and assaulting an officer as well. I’ll take care of him when I finish up with that other one, ‘Ortiz.’”

  The XO closed her eyes and shook her head, but when she opened them, she gestured for the Masters at Arms to pick Benno up. The captain returned to his office without another look. Both the XO and WEPS knelt down to check on Johnson. Neither would meet Benno’s frantic gaze.

  The MAAs hauled him through officer country to the ladder well leading down and aft. Benno struggled and screamed, but to no avail. In the lower passageways, as they climbed down the ladders and carried him aft to the brig, Benno yelled that they had hidden the truth from him—and everyone—for far too long.

  “The ALS abandoned those worlds to protect aristo enclaves!”

  “They aren’t even going to try to strike back!”

  “They let the Turds in! This operation is more important to them than our families!”

  “We have to stop them before more fall! We have to go back while there’s still a chance!”

  Nothing. No one moved to help him, but Benno was pleased to see the MAAs go from chagrined, to uncertain, to concerned. By the time they finally reached the brig, Benno’s voice had grown hoarse with his cries, and he no longer struggled against his captors. Instead, he trudged along between them, limp and quiet.

  In the brig’s first compartment, they strippe
d him, bagged his personal items, and dressed him in an orange shipsuit. Carefully, as if he was a pumpkin-hued bomb ready to explode, the MAAs led him to the small block of cells. They locked Benno inside one unit and left the block.

  He slumped. Nothing made sense. Emotion seemed beyond his ability to understand and experience. His world was a gray void, with the barest silhouette of Mio to keep him sane. She was still alive. She had to be!

  A whistle sounded, drawing his attention to the next cell over.

  Raoul Ortiz watched him, a grin across half his face. “This is just… Too. Damned. Funny. BENNO!! How ya doin’!? How’s life as Mr. Loyal Trooper Extraordinaire? Ha ha ha ha ha!”

  Ortiz laughed like a maniac, for so long and so enthusiastically, Benno thought he might never stop.

  * * * * *

  Chapter Four: Mio

  Most of her body ached. The parts that didn’t ache hurt worse. Most of her joints screamed in agony, and she was cold…so very cold. Where were her blankets?

  As her senses returned, Mio realized she was lying on the floor. She must have fallen out of bed. It had all been a bad dream caused by lying on the cold floor. As she became more aware, Mio realized the floor was harder than it should have been, and it felt like there was a knife in her right kidney. Without opening her eyes, she reached down with her right hand. It wasn’t a knife, just a rock. She pulled it out and felt the smallest bit better.

  A rock? Why was there a rock on her bedroom floor and not the nice soft rug she sometimes fell asleep on? She shivered in the cold, and fire ignited across her body.

  Opening her eyes, all she could see was rock in the dim light, and for a moment she was terrified; she had no idea where she was or how she’d gotten there.

  Then memory returned, rushing in like an unwelcome flood. Terrans arriving, seemingly riding the flames of hell. The Rogers, dead. All of them, for no real reason. The slide down the mountain after she lost control, and the torture that ensued.