by Trevor Wyatt
Once Jeryl found the ladder he was looking for, he climbed all the way up to the CNC level. He crawled for a few more minutes before he found a red door leading down. He opened it and gently dropped into his private office.
“Computer, lockdown this office,” Jeryl whispered the moment his feet touched the ground.
He could hear voices in the CNC—and he could hear one familiar voice.
So he’s here, after all?
“Complying…” the computer said aloud, oblivious to Jeryl’s need for stealth. Jeryl flinched.
Jeryl heard the voices cease for a moment. He was sure they’d heard the computer.
Then suddenly, the open access way above slammed shut and the door clicked locked. A metal barrier threw itself into place behind the door, blocking it from view.
“Office in lockdown,” the computer said.
“Establish emergency priority communication with the fleet,” Jeryl said. He ran to his seat and inserted the small disc into the workstation. “Send them all this information.”
“Complying…”
There was a loud explosion and a terrible trembling ahead that drew Jeryl’s attention. The metal door had been wrangled into a gnarled form. Jeryl ducked just as there was another explosion and the metal door cascaded into the office.
The door smashed into the desk, destroying it along with the disc. Smoke fogged the air.
Jeryl raised his hands up in surrender before beginning to rise to his feet. The desk had borne the brunt of the impact and stopped the metal door from crushing him to pieces.
Just as Kaine walked into the office, a handgun pointed at Jeryl.
“Information sent, receipt acknowledged,” the computer said.
Jeryl breathed a soft sigh of relief.
Kaine’s face was a terrifying mask of rage.
“You just killed your entire crew,” he breathed.
Chapter 28
Jeryl
Kaine stepped through the mangled doorway into Jeryl’s office, a sardonic grin painted across his face as he stared down Jeryl. “How does it feel knowing you just signed their death warrants?”
Jeryl stepped from around his desk, spreading his arms wide. “Like you would throw away your only bargaining chip. I think you know what I just sent out…” He walked over to a liquor cabinet and tapped in an access code. “You want anything to drink while we wait for the Armada task force?”
“They won’t be as much help as you think. When was the last time you looked outside?”
Jeryl tapped the display and pulled up one of the external monitors. It showed a hub of activity, not just of human pirates but of Tyreesian mercenaries quickly moving ill-gotten goods between ships.
“You think I wouldn’t have made some friends out here?” Kaine said.
Jeryl poured himself a small shot of whiskey and downed it. “So this is what you’ve been up to. Not only have you broken your oath, you’ve betrayed humanity. What did they offer you?”
A small part of his mind knew that taking the shot was one hell of a risk, but it had the desired effect. Kaine looked a little off foot, not knowing exactly what gave him the confidence to be drinking now, of all times.
They stared at each other for a time that seemed to stretch to eternity.
“That’s a long story. Though you know as well as I that I didn’t betray the Armada. You bastards betrayed me. What the hell was I supposed to do?”
He pulled out two hunting knives out of his jacket and tossed one to Jeryl. “It doesn’t matter now, does it? I guess all that’s left is for us to finish this.”
Jeryl looked at the blade. A number was inscribed in the hilt, and he quickly recognized that it was the year Kaine graduated from the Academy. A simple implement, common among men of a certain caliber. He held it up to the light and inspected the fine-honed edge. “You took care of this? If I were you, I wouldn’t keep anything from my old life.”
“Consider it a parting gift before I send you to your grave.” Kaine darted forwards, slashing madly in the hope of putting to grass the man standing in the way of his plans.
Jeryl blocked the blade and kicked, sending Kaine reeling backward into the wall. “Why are you so damned set on fighting? There’s nothing you can do—even with your thugs. The Tyreesians won’t risk a war over a bunch of pirates, and you know we’ll be coming down hard. Just give up.”
Kaine dropped the knife and chuckled. “You know, I was about to ask you to do the same thing.” He clenched his fist and a jolt of electricity shot out of the blade in Jeryl’s hand. “Now that I have your attention…”
Jeryl collapsed on the ground, immobilized by the dirty trick. His body froze, his muscles not obeying his desire to get up, to fight, to save himself and his ship. Kaine quickly dragged the captain to the desk, handcuffing him to one of the legs. Then, he holstered the blade he had given Jeryl and sat down next to him.
“I hope you don’t mind. I wouldn’t have lived as long as I have by playing fair. Now, I got a couple of questions. What resources will the Armada be bringing to this fight? How many ships? Which captains?”
Jeryl looked at Kaine silently, wishing that the old saying about looks being deadly wasn’t true. “Why the hell do you think I’d tell you that? It is not like you have much leverage.”
Kaine twisted the blade in his hands, causing a beam of reflected light to arc around the room like a lighthouse on a dark winter’s night. “Don’t I? My men have your crew surrounded, in custody. Your ship is mine and you’re not exactly free to move around.”
He slid the blade gently against Jeryl’s face, not deep enough to cut but just enough to leave a slender white line across his cheek and jaw. “I can do whatever I want with you. Think about it—I’ll finally be able to give you the fucking punishment you and the whole fucking Armada deserves.”
He stood and walked behind the desk. Tapping the terminal, he accessed the inbox and smiled. “Wow. They’re not holding back…Of course, that just means that I’ll have to make sure they learn not to mess with The Ghost or my men.”
He tapped his collar. “Attention fleet. We’re expecting company; defensive crews, get into position.”
Kaine looked at his prisoner and smiled. “I’ll finish you off in a second. Don’t you fucking dare move now.”
He exited the room, leaving Jeryl stuck by the desk.
As the man’s footsteps receded, Jeryl looked around him for anything that could be used to break the chain. A small piece of metal from the door was barely within reach from his feet. It took nearly every ounce of strength, but he eventually managed to get his foot on it and drag it close enough.
It took some time, but he was able to grab the piece and wedge it into the simple lock. The handcuffs, like most restraints throughout the galaxy, were meant to just hinder, not permanently restrain, so the mechanism simply needed something in the hole to unhook.
As he stood up, the terminal beeped—the Armada was approaching the system.
Well, it looks like I have some work to do, Jeryl thought, reaching into the desk drawer and looking for a pistol. He swore and went to the doorway after realizing that the weapon wasn’t there.
The bridge was a buzz of activity, as pirates struggled to gain control over all the systems while preparing for an imminent attack. Kaine himself was sitting in the captain’s chair, looking over the systems with a vaguely amused expression.
Two of the pirates, an older man and a young woman, spotted him and pulled their guns. “No need to shoot—it’s not like I’d be able to do much,” he said, holding his hands up and walking towards Kaine.
“How’d you fucking get out of those cuffs?” Kaine asked, pulling his own gun.
“Oh, you know…spend enough time as a married man, and you’ll pick up a few tricks,” the woman with her gun pointed at him laughed, and Kaine glared at her.
Jeryl walked over to the guest booth and sat down. “I just figured you guys would like to know that the Armada task force is
about to enter the system. This would be a good time to prepare to surrender—or you’ll be pretty much dust in the stellar wind by the end of the day.”
Kaine walked over, pressing the gun against Jeryl’s head. “So will you and your crew, unless they do what I say.”
Jeryl laughed, swatting away the barrel. “You know the procedure—it’s either you submit or die. They’re not going to be that concerned about us. After all, we failed by not bringing you in first.” He stretched his arms. “So it’s your choice—fight and die...or surrender and have the possibility of a normal life after spending a stint of it in a Union prison.”
Alarms started blaring throughout the bridge. The pirate in front of the tracking station looked up. “Shit! Montgomery isn’t lying. There have to be dozens of ships coming in. No way we can beat them all, boss!”
Kaine’s response was as swift as it was merciless. He took one knife out of one his jacket's pockets and threw it hard. The man dropped dead on the ground.
“I take it you don’t like pessimism by your subordinates? Or it is common sense?” Jeryl asked with a faint smile.
“Jeryl...when will you learn?” Kaine asked him softly.
Then, a barrel connected with Jeryl's head, turning the world to black as ships flooded the area surrounding the pirate’s space station.
Before he passed out, he felt his body being dragged towards the bridge’s hatch.
“I’m taking this bastard back to the station,” Jeryl barely heard Kaine saying. “We should be able to hold off the Armada there. Order all forces to take defense postures and make sure I get back safely!”
Chapter 29
Ashley
Ashley strode into the CNC of the TUS The Manila, and headed straight for the captain’s chair. Not to sit in it of course, but to be right where the orders come from.
The CNC was a scene of controlled chaos, as all CNCs are just before a big battle. A big battle Ashley was pretty damn sure they wouldn’t win. And to think her fucking moron of a husband was in harm’s way just made her heart ache all the more.
Can we keep doing this?
“Lieutenant, how many minutes ‘til we come out of FTL?” the captain asked.
The navigations officer was scrunched over his console. His shoulders were hunched as if it had somewhat caved in on itself. Ashley wasn’t sure if it was the strain of their impending space battle, or if this was the officer’s natural physique.
Why the fuck do I even care about that? Ashley thought to herself, her face contorting in a frown.
“Less than two minutes, Captain,” the officer replied.
“Relay that information to all ships,” the captain commanded, turning his head toward the communications officer.
“Aye, Captain,” the short lady said, focusing her attention on her work station.
“Weapons hot,” the captain said. “Battle stations, everyone. And bring our alert level to red.”
“Roger that, sir,” the tactical officer replied.
There was an instant change in the CNC. The lights turned a shade of red and battle coordinates popped up on the screen, which itself was outlined in a hue of red.
“Report!” Ashley said out of turn. She was too damn antsy to follow protocol. Also, being married to Jeryl, the leader of the attack fleet, had its perks.
The Manila’s captain glanced at her. He looked a bit surprised to see Ashley on the CNC. He looked around for help, but there was no one ranking high enough to talk to Ashley the way she needed to be spoken to.
“Ma’am, should you be here?” he asked, a little stutter in his voice.
Ashley rolled her eyes. “Did he put you up to this?”
“No,” the captain replied, immediately getting her meaning. “I’m just concerned. Captain Montgomery’s orders were implicit in the action he took in disabling your shuttle. I don’t think he’d want—”
“Your duty is not to anticipate my husband,” Ashley cut the captain off. Even as she did it, she cringed in her skin. She shouldn’t be talking to a higher ranking officer like this, especially not in front of his junior staff. But she was past protocol.
What she couldn’t get past through was the nagging feeling in the edges of her consciousness that she was a hair’s breadth away from being a widow.
The captain sighed. “Ma’am, please…”
This was when Ashley knew she’d have to pull rank. She knew just what to do.
“Captain,” Ashley said, cutting the man off again. In the corner of her eyes, she could see some of the officers stop what they were doing to stare.
“Jeryl and I personally put this attack fleet together,” Ashley began. “I selected you and your crew. Captain Montgomery is the commander of this attack fleet, and I, as his First Officer, am second in command. Battle field promotion according to the Armada’s by-laws…”
Ashley could see the anger brimming in the Captain’s eyes. But she was didn’t care about that.
“Commander,” the captain said firmly. “You don’t need to quote Armada by-laws for me. I read them far before you were even in the Academy.”
The insult hung in the air for a few moments. Ashley blinked, not sure why her tongue had somehow clung to the roof of her mouth.
The captain’s eyes softened. “I’m sorry, Commander Gavin. I understand that Jeryl is in harm’s way. But so is the commando team he’s with. Putting yourself in a situation where Jeryl would have to worry about you is dangerous—both for him and us.”
“I never said I wanted to go out there,” Ashley observed.
The captain eyed her. “As if that’s not in the works.”
Ashley smiled. “True.”
Then she became serious. “I can’t sit idly by while my husband’s fate is determined by others. I’m pregnant, not disabled. I can help”
The captain was about to protest, but Ashley continued speaking.
“And perhaps, I’m not so far along,” she said. “Heck, I don’t think the baby has developed legs or hands yet, in fact.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” the man asked, his right eyebrow arched.
“It’s supposed to make you see my desperation,” Ashley said. “My resolve. It’s supposed to make you see that I’m ready to do whatever is necessary for Jeryl.”
“Is there supposed to be a threat in there somewhere?”
Ashley appreciated the fact that the captain had made that statement with a smile on his face.
“I wouldn’t dare,” was all she said in reply.
The captain heaved a sigh. “The attack fleet is in formation. Jeryl sent us the coordinates about half an hour ago, while we were receiving you from The Revenge.”
“And we’re headed there now?” Ashley said, her eyes jumping to the screen.
Overlaid on the view of FTL space—a continuously collapsing vortex of dark matter and streaks of electricity—was the battle screen, showing how many vessels were in the attack fleet. It also showed the estimated strength of The Ghost fleet, which Ashley thought was a little bit too conservative.
She could also see the positions of the different starships in the attack fleet, as well as the position of the Syndicate space station in relation to major Armada bases nearby.
“Have we informed Flynn of our progress?” Ashley asked.
“Is he sending backup?”
“Yes and maybe,” the captain replied.
“Why ‘maybe’?” Ashley asked.
“We’re trying to keep this as secret as possible,” the captain said.
Ashley immediately remembered that not too many officers knew of Kaine. It would be a public spectacle if details of their current mission got out. This was bound to happen if they reached out to uncleared Armada bases for help.
“So Admiral Flynn isn’t sure if he’s going to be ordering those star bases to send in reinforcements— aside from the ones that are already coming,” the captain said.
That gave Ashley a little bit of hope. She had seen the
way The Ghost fleet had all but decimated the Armada attack fleet. If they stood a fighting chance this time, they needed more firepower.
“Coming into the system now, sir,” the navigation officer said.
The Armada attack fleet dropped out of FTL. They were about a hundred kilometers away from the space station—a distance they could cover in less than ten minutes at sub light drive.
They were too far to see The Ghost fleet on their view screen, but their scanners could pick up each and every ship in the fleet quite easily. Ashley saw that The Seeker and The Ghost were both docked on the orbiting space station.
“Attack formation,” the captain commanded.
“All ships, attack formation,” the communications officer relayed.
At about the same time, the tactical officer said, “Attack formation, aye sir!”
The fleet spread out from behind The Manila, forming into the shape of a boomerang on the view screen.
“Eight minutes to target,” the tactical officer said.
“Get the Hunters ready,” the captain added to the chorus of voices. “I want them swarming that installation the moment we get within range.”
“Aye Captain,” the communications officer replied. “Relaying to the Squadron Leader.”
“Who’s going to lead the Hunters?” Ashley asked. “You’ll need someone really experienced to make a difference in this fight.”
“We have someone, Commander,” the captain said halfheartedly. “Thanks. Now, if you would find yourself a place to sit and strap in, things are going to get a bit rough here.”
“I need a Hunter,” Ashley said abruptly.
She saw the man flinch in his chair as she said that.
“Commander…”
“Look, we can stand here and argue about this, which by the way I’ll win and you’d have wasted ten minutes of your time—or you could take advantage of my skills and put me in a Hunter.”