by Trevor Wyatt
“Permission granted. But work fast, Ensign Tira. The clock’s ticking.”
“I always work fast,” Tira said with a smile, and then sat back down on her chair, her fingers flying over her keyboard so fast that Jeryl could barely keep up. Usually, the Armada insisted on sending him green rookies, but it seemed they had finally listened to Jeryl’s pleas and had started sending him capable personnel.
“Thirty seconds!” Ferriero said, and Jeryl felt his mouth turn dry as he saw the red avalanche of Udenar ships on the viewscreen drawing closer. Soon enough, even The Seeker wouldn’t be able to jump out of the star system. There was no way Jeryl would attempt an FTL jump under heavy fire.
“Tira, give me something.”
“One second, sir, and I...got it!” She exclaimed, her face so close to the monitor that her nose almost touched it. “Their FTL drives seem to have been deactivated remotely!”
“So, you’re telling me that the Confederation fleet can’t make the jump?”
“That, well, huh...yes, sir.”
“Shit,” Jeryl muttered again. Why the hell had the Confederation deactivated the FTL drives on their own fleet? That didn’t make any sense. The only reason any Admiral worth his salt would deactivate the drives like that would be…
“POWER DOWN OUR FTL DRIVES!” Jeryl shouted, and every head in CNC turned to look at him. “Do it now,” he insisted, and Ferriero immediately went to work, no questions asked.
“What the hell’s going on?” Ashley asked, and Jeryl just gritted his teeth.
“FTL mines. They’re all around us,” Jeryl finally replied, watching as the Confederation fleet finally engaged their sub light engines and slowly started pulling back. That was the only way to escape a minefield like that; if a ship tried a jump into FTL with these mines around it, it was almost certain that the only place its crew would be jumping into would be the afterlife.
“Five seconds, sir!” Ferriero shouted, the urgency in his voice enough to make Jeryl stand up from his chair.
“Take us out of here, Ferriero, but do it carefully” he ordered, and the Lieutenant got to work right away. On the viewscreen, Jeryl could see the Udenar raiders showing in the distance, right behind the Confederation’s flagship. There were dozens of small raiders, all of them flying in close formation, and Jeryl could see the shape of a few old Tyreesian destroyers as well.
He had no idea how the Udenar had managed to get their hands on that much equipment. Even second-hand destroyers had to be expensive for a race that mostly lived out of piracy—but that didn’t matter much. If Jeryl was right, and if the space around them was littered with FTL mines, then that could only mean one thing: the Tyreesians were somehow involved in the situation.
Every officer inside CNC watched in horror as the Udenar started firing upon the slow-moving Confederation ships, the laser beams carving out large holes in their flagship hull. Long arms of fire escaped from those wounds on the fuselage, only to be choked out of existence by the vacuum of space.
“I’ve ran a scan of the area,” Tira announced. “You’re right, Captain, we’re surrounded by FTL mines. The previous fleet must have dropped them before they were destroyed.”
“Please tell me you have good news as well.” Jeryl asked Tira, not wanting to finish his sentence with ‘or else we’re fucked’.
“I do. Most of them are surrounding the Confederation fleet. One minute or so and we’ll be able to make the jump into FTL.”
“Good. I hope you’re as good at praying as you are at manning your workstation, Tira, because we’re gonna need some luck to get out of this alive.”
C’mon, c’mon, Jeryl repeated over and over again inside his head, counting each fraction of a second as The Seeker slowly moved out of the area covered by the FTL mines. They couldn’t take too long—soon enough, the Udenar would stop firing against the Confederation fleet and turn their attention toward The Seeker.
Thirty seconds passed, and then one minute...and that was enough for the Udenar to turn every single Confederation ship into a pile of floating junk, the metal from the ship’s hull charred and bent in different shapes as it suffered a non-stop barrage of enemy fire.
The Crimson flagship and its supporting ships tried to respond as hard as they could, downing a dozen of raiders, but they were no match for a fleet as huge as the one led by the Udenar.
“We’re clear, sir!” Tira shouted, and Jeryl could swear he almost heard everyone in CNC hold their breath.
“Ferriero, take us out of here!”
“FTL drives up and running and...here we go!” Ferriero announced fast, his voice cracking, and Jeryl sat back down as The Seeker left Galea’s system, the stars on the windscreen leaving a bright trail of light as the ship made the jump into FTL.
For a long moment, nobody said a word.
“They’re...dead.” Ashley finally said, still looking at the windscreen as if she was replaying the scene from seconds ago. “Just like that.”
“Yes. But there was nothing we could have done. If we had tried to help, we’d have suffered the same fate.”
“I know…” With that, Ashley turned around and walked toward Jeryl, lowering her voice as she approached him. “But how the hell do the Udenar have access to FTL mines? I seriously doubt the Tyreesians are selling that kind of artillery. We know that they only sell what they have no use for, so this doesn’t make any—”
“That’s because the Tyreesians are in on this,” Jeryl replied, using the same hushed tone as Ashley. “I have no idea what’s going on, but this isn’t about the Udenar taking over a farming colony to extract ore. This is big, Ash. Really fucking big.”
Jeryl
Bobbing his head to the left, Jeryl sidestepped the incoming punch and drove his right fist into the other man’s stomach. He allowed himself a grin and then took a step back.
“Still not falling, huh?”
“Never, sir,” Ferriero responded through his mouthpiece, visibly shaken from Jeryl’s punch but still maintaining his stance. Whatever could be said of Ferriero, the man sure could take a punch.
“Good, man.”
Without allowing Ferriero a moment’s rest, Jeryl barraged him with a flurry of punches—jab, left hook, and then a straight right. The navigation officer tried to keep his guard up, but he was no match for Jeryl’s fury.
Eventually, one of Jeryl’s punch broke through Ferriero’s raised arms and connected with his chin. The officer took two steps back, lost his balance, and then fell back on his ass. He spat out his mouthpiece, then looked up at his captain.
“One of these days, Captain, I’ll be the one standing over you,” he laughed, slowly getting back up on his feet. Jeryl helped him up, and then patted Ferriero on the shoulder.
“The only day you’ll stand over me like this...would be the day you’ll have to bury me six feet under the ground,” Jeryl said with a wink. “Because there’s no way I’m going to let you win if I’m still breathing.”
“Seriously now,” Ferriero continued, taking off his boxing gloves. “Is everything okay, Captain? There was quite a fury behind those punches.”
“Fury? I call that strength and skill, my friend,” Jeryl simply responded, even though he knew exactly why he had given Ferriero such a fierce fight. His head was swarming with thoughts of the Udenar, and memories of how the Confederation fleet went down without a fight.
On top of that, he couldn’t stop thinking about the Tyreesians. He thought they had learned how to stay put, but now he realized he couldn’t have been more wrong. Even if they kept to themselves and lurked in the shadows, that only meant they were plotting something.
Cunning bastards.
But what could their interest be in a farming colony such as Galea? What had they found there that made them equip a race like Udenar with their tech? They had even handed out FTL mines, something they had always been protective about.
“I’m gonna take a shower,” Jeryl simply said, trying to push all these thoughts to t
he back of his mind. He climbed down from the boxing ring, and made his way out of The Seeker’s large gym facility.
The ring was a new addition to the facility (and there was some bureaucracy involved in setting the damn thing up), but Jeryl couldn’t be happier about it. There was no better way to let off some steam than a friendly fight. Jeryl wasn’t sure if every captain relaxed the way he did—by beating the shit out of his officers. But they seemed to like the challenge.
Especially Ferriero, who saw every sparring session with Jeryl as a personal challenge. The guy wanted to knock the captain flat on his ass, and he wouldn’t give up until he succeeded. But Ferriero always saw everything as a challenge. He rose through the ranks fast, and Jeryl knew that now Docherty was gone, Ferriero would be the one to take over as head of nav.
Finally standing under the hot running water, Jeryl allowed his body to relax. Every single muscle on his body was sore, and there were a few bruises on his chest, right on the spots where Ferriero had hit him. Jeryl had to give it to him—the guy was improving fast. If Jeryl wasn’t careful, the nav officer would soon knock him on his ass.
Eventually, Jeryl’s mind circled back to Galea. That damn colony’s name seemed to have been engraved on his brain with a scorching hot iron, and above the planet’s name was a monstrous question mark.
Jeryl simply couldn’t figure out what the Udenar (or the Tyreesians) had seen in a farming planet. It had to do with the extraction of something, since the Udenar were running a mining operation, after all.
But what could be so important that they had to protect the planet with massive fleets while keeping up appearances with a puppet governor?
“What are you looking for in there?” He whispered to himself, throwing his head back and allowing the water to fall straight onto his face. Around him, a mist of vapor was slowly settling, covering the room as it rose.
He didn’t believe the Tyreesians would go to such lengths to mine some precious mineral—he wasn’t even sure if they saw gold or silver as currency. That left only one option: whatever it was they needed to extract in Galea, it had to do with some kind of technology. Maybe they had developed a new alloy that needed a specific metal, and they were upgrading their fleet.
No, it can’t be that, Jeryl thought. If they needed to upgrade their fleet, they’d need massive amounts of whatever it is they’re mining. If they’re risking invading a Confederation colony this close to the Union border...it has be something extremely scarce.
But then, why use the Udenar? Plausible deniability? It could be, but something told Jeryl that it ran deeper than that. The Tyreesians were probably using the Udenar so that if anyone found out what was going on, they wouldn’t make the connection between what was being mined and what the Tyreesians were using it for.
There was no way around it—Jeryl would have to speak to the Admiral and tell him about his suspicions. What seemed like a simple problem was turning into a riddle...and that was a problem, because Jeryl couldn’t stand back when there was a riddle with his name stamped on it.
If the long years of the war hadn’t taught him the value of being cautious and respecting the hierarchy, he’d already be plotting some kind of rogue operation to figure out the whole thing by now.
His priority was to let Flynn know.
As if someone had read his thoughts, Jeryl heard his comm chirp. He glanced at it quickly and read the message on the small screen.
Admiral Flynn had reached out and wanted to talk with him.
“Quite the timing, Admiral,” he muttered.
Jeryl stepped out from the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. He stood there for a moment, beads of water still trickling down his naked skin, and just stared at his folded uniform.
Being a captain wasn’t easy...but he wouldn’t trade that for anything in the world.
Admiral Flynn
Blindsided by a right hook, Flynn once again wondered why he loved boxing so much. He spit out a glob of blood and returned with an uppercut.
I’m getting too old for this shit, he thought as pain seared through his left cheek.
He visited the same back alley gym three times a week since he was a kid, when he wasn’t stationed elsewhere. This morning, he needed a good workout to clear his head.
A notification from his tablet had awakened him before dawn. An encrypted message with an Armada seal blinked at him, and for a moment, all he could do was blink back while his eyes adjusted.
The only time he got an encrypted message was when it was an Armada Intelligence matter. He opened the message with his name, security clearance, and password. A rock formed in the pit of his stomach as he read.
Send The Seeker to gather intel. We’re now sure there is a threat to the Terran Union and the Galactic Council. We will contact you. Do not attempt to contact us.
Jeryl disobeyed a direct order and barely got out by the skin of his teeth. Now, they wanted him to go back in, and it had to be Flynn’s idea.
There was so much wrong with that and he didn’t know where to start. Jeryl was like a son to him—hell, Jeryl had even taken up boxing because of Flynn. Such an order was likely to get him killed, and Flynn would like nothing more than pretend he didn’t see it.
Once again, he had to remind himself that he couldn’t let personal feelings cloud his professional judgement. Of course Armada Intelligence would want more information after what happened. It was only logical to send Jeryl’s ship back in to get it.
A pounding always helped him think, so he threw on his clothes and headed straight for the gym. He regretted it now, as his cheek swelled and throbbed. The uppercut knocked the other man to the mat, affording him some satisfaction. It didn’t last long. Every part of his body was sore, making him cringe as he washed up and threw on his uniform.
The guard that normally waved him through held the gate when he saw the bruise.
“You okay, sir?” he asked with a frown.
“Fine. Just a rough workout,” Flynn smiled at the man’s concern.
The guard ran his eyes over the aircar, looking for signs of trouble. It wouldn’t be the first time an officer was kidnapped and forced to clear the security gate. He finally nodded and opened the gate, waving Flynn through.
Dangerous missions were Jeryl’s bread and butter. Flynn himself thought his talents were better served in Armada Intelligence, and now was as good as any to test that theory. He immediately felt guilty for that thought and mentally kicked himself, then acknowledged that it was true.
As selfish as it was, Jeryl’s success would inflate Flynn’s ego.
Flynn sat at his desk, chewing his nails. He reached for the power button on the slipstream and pulled his hand back several times. Straightening his shoulders, he let the nail-bitten hand rest on the desk and fired up the slipstream. He put on his sternest face as he waited.
Jeryl flinched in shock as he came into full view. “Whoa, what happened?”
“I know, Jeryl. I’ve seen myself in the mirror earlier, thanks.”
“Back to boxing these days?” Jeryl replied as his mouth curved into a slight smile.
“Yeah, I mean it’s the perfect way to let off some steam. And don’t be fooled by this bruise—I can assure you that I knocked out the other guy.”
Jeryl chuckled and shook his head. “I’m sure you did, sir.”
“Of course. Now, Jeryl…” Flynn started, his tone growing serious. “Was it really so difficult to obey my order? You’re lucky we both haven’t been court-martialed.”
Jeryl’s smile slowly faded, and he momentarily looked away from Flynn. “We didn’t have a choice, sir. And I’m fairly certain that the Tyreesians have something to do with this. They have to be mining for—”
“I believe you,” Flynn muttered. “There’s something happening that could spill over onto our territory.”
That was an understatement. The conflict had already spilled over, with improbable Udenar coming out in full battle mode to chase down a woman and h
er baby. Maybe his age jaded him, but he smelled a conspiracy.
Jeryl looked at him with wide eyes, clearly surprised that Flynn was finally seeing his side on the matter. “We can’t just walk away and pretend like everything’s fine, sir. There’s clearly something off here.”
“I agree. This stays between us. Go find us some intel we can use.”
“Wait—what?” Jeryl certainly expected to be ordered to get out of that sector and let the Human Confederation self-destruct on their own.
“This is strictly black ops. If there’s a threat to us, I want to know about it.”
“Admiral, I’m glad that we’re finally taking a step into this. But...this is too risky. Maybe there’s another way to—”
“There could be, but it will take a lot of time. And we certainly want to know what’s happening here as soon as we can. Now, come up with a plan and brief me before you go.”
“Sir, I—”
Flynn powered down the slipstream before Jeryl could continue his sentence and stood. He had preparations of his own to make. He picked up his tablet and composed an encrypted message.
Orders given, was all it read.
Tapping the send button, he hoped that he hadn’t just sent his best friend to his death on orders he didn’t agree with. If a war started or Jeryl died, Flynn would only be allowed to blame himself. Armada Intelligence would see to that.
He knew that Jeryl was apprehensive about them as well. Who could blame him? He might as well refuse this order like he did the last one, but Flynn didn’t think so. Flynn knew the order was ignored for a valid reason—Jeryl never did anything for the hell of it. Above all else, that man was too curious for his own good. That alone would drive him to sneak across the border. He would succeed.
Now he had to get his affairs in order in case anything went wrong. With any luck, he would only be reprimanded. More likely, he would be court-martialed and sentenced to prison.