by David Bruns
Sam looked at her with narrowed eyes. “For what it’s worth, I was wrong about Laz. He made a mistake a long time ago, but without him neither of us would be standing here today. He was there when we needed him and that’s what counts.”
Thankfully, Admiral Kilgore’s aide stepped to the podium, ending the conversation. Addison scanned the audience one last time, then sat down.
***
“Commander Samantha Maria Avery, front and center.”
Sam left Addison’s side and marched to face Fleet Admiral Kilgore. Her friend’s face quivered with emotion as the admiral read the traditional change-of-command orders for Sam to report as captain of the Avenger, the newest Constitution-class starship set to come from space dock in a few days. After Kilgore placed the command pin on Sam’s left breast, she broke with tradition and hugged the younger woman.
“Commander Addison Martha Halsey, front and center.” Addison blushed at the use of her middle name.
Addison felt disembodied as she came to attention in front of Kilgore and snapped a salute. The admiral held her gaze for a long time before she returned the salute.
There was a long formal reading before they got to the part that Addison cared about: “By direction of the Commander in Chief, I hereby order you to report for duty as Commanding Officer of the ISS Invincible.”
The room erupted in applause and Addison watched the admiral place the command pin on her chest. She returned the salute and then marched back to Sam’s side.
And then it was over. There were no speeches by dignitaries or politicians; in fact, there were no speeches at all. The political–military bureaucracy was interested only in moving forward as fast as possible. Already the PR people were in full scrubbing mode to make sure what had actually happened on the Invincible never made it to the public. The Fleet hadn’t lost a ship to foreign agents in over five hundred years and no one was going to admit this one.
Sam hugged her hard. “I never wanted to get command this way, but I’m glad I’m here with you,” she said. “When we were just a couple of scared skinny plebes, did you ever think this day would come?”
Addison flashed back twenty years to when she and Sam, as first-year roommates at Fleet Academy, both confessed they wanted to be starship captains. The emotional detachment she’d felt all morning washed away and she hugged her friend as tightly as she could.
“Whoa, Addison,” Sam said, breaking free. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I just . . . I’m glad I’m here with you, Sam.”
“Excuse me, ladies. May I offer my congratulations?” Captain Preble’s arm was in a sling and he looked like he hadn’t slept in a week, but he was smiling all the same.
“Of course, sir,” Sam said, wiping her eyes. “Sorry, we’ve known each other forever and it’s a very emotional time for both of us.”
Preble took her hand in his. “As it should be, Captain. You’ve both earned it.” He grimaced. “Although your honeymoon period will be painfully short. Less than two months, if our intel is correct.” That was the best guess analysts gave until the new Swarm fleet arrived in their solar system.
“We’ll be ready, sir,” Addison said.
Preble extended his hand. “I have no doubt you will, Addison. And I want you to call me Noah, both of you.”
Addison smiled. “Alright then, Noah.”
Preble hesitated, glancing at Sam. “Could you excuse us, Sam? Just for a moment?”
As Sam stepped away, Preble put a hand on Addison’s shoulder. “I owe you my life.” Preble’s voice caught and he looked down. “More importantly, so does every man and woman on my ship. What you did out there . . . I’ve never seen anything like it, Addison. You’re a natural. I want you to know, if there’s anything you ever need from me—anything at all—you need only ask.”
Addison blushed. “Thank you, sir—I mean, Noah. I just did what I thought was right. I was lucky, I guess.”
“Luck had nothing to do with it, Addison.” He touched her arm. “Look at me hogging all your attention. Go and enjoy your day. You’ve earned it.” He turned away, then looked back. “By the way, thanks for sending Scollard my way. I think he’ll work out great as my new CAG.”
Addison tried not to show the shock on her face. “Pardon, sir?”
“Laz Scollard. The admiral reinstated his commission and he approached me about being my new CAG. I put him in the simulator and he blew away the test protocols. Said you would give him a good recommendation.” He frowned. “Is there a problem?”
Addison choked out a laugh. “Of course not, Noah. Laz is the best pilot I’ve ever worked with and he was with me every step of the way when we took back the Invincible.” She bent her lips into a smile.
“The best man I’ve ever known.”
Chapter 46
ISS Invincible – Flight Deck
Addison found him in the place she should have looked first. On her flight deck, onboard the Renegade.
Her flight deck. It still felt strange to realize that everything around her, every crewmember, every fighter, every deck plate, was her responsibility.
She paused at the bottom of the Renegade’s ramp. “Permission to come aboard?”
No answer.
She climbed the ramp. The cargo bay still had netting attached to the deck where the marines had strapped in for their landing on the Invincible. Addison picked her way across the bay to the open doorway into the rest of the ship. Her communicator buzzed.
“Proctor to Captain Halsey.”
“Go ahead, Zoe.” She smiled in spite of herself. Proctor had come out of the assault pretty well, considering she’d had a bomb strapped to her for about eight hours. Halsey had even heard that she was dating Marine Second Lieutenant Ojambe. Good for her.
“Captain, we’re not able to get the correct parts for the short-range sensor array. I can jury-rig something to get us underway, but I wanted to make sure that was okay with you.”
“Zoe, I want you to listen very carefully.”
“Yes, ma’am?”
“You do whatever you need to do to get us underway, just make sure you update the schematics with any system changes. I trust your judgment. You don’t need to ask me about every change. Got it?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Addison shut off her communicator. The rest of the ship could live without her for a half hour.
Her footsteps echoed in the empty corridor. The galley was empty, so she made her way to the bridge. A pair of feet, crossed at the ankles, were propped on the control panel.
“Want some company?” she called out.
The feet dropped abruptly and Laz’s face appeared around the side of the chair. He’d shaved and was wearing a Fleet uniform.
“Addie . . . how did you find me?”
She laughed. “Process of elimination. I looked in every freaking corner of the ship until I ended up here.”
He indicated the copilot seat. “Grab a chair.”
She slid into the worn leather, then hugged her knees to her chest.
“I was at your ceremony, you know. Congrats. I know you’ve always wanted command.” He grinned at her. “I’m proud of you, Addie.”
“Thanks.” She rested her chin on her knees, staring out over the flight deck. A row of shiny new fighters gleamed in the light. Her ship was almost back up to a full complement of eighty fighters. Pilots, on the other hand, were a different story. She reached out to touch his new uniform.
“Congrats yourself, Lieutenant.”
“I guess they figured they had to do something for me after I saved the world and all.” He laughed. “I asked for a billion credits but all they offered was a commission. All in all, a fair compromise, I think.”
“Yeah.” She let her eyes roam over the fighters again. “You could have stayed on the Invincible, you know.”
“Could I?” he answered, eyebrows raised. Slowly, he shook his head. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea, Captain.”
Addison let
a flash of anger show through. “You told Preble that I would give you a recommendation! Laz, you got expelled a long time ago for lying and you lied again to get your new job.”
Laz threw her a look of mock horror. “You’re not going to recommend me? After all we’ve been through?”
She laughed in spite of herself. “That’s not the point, dammit.”
“No, it’s not.” Laz’s tone got serious.
Addison tore her eyes away and went back to counting fighters. She got to thirty before she said, “We could try, you know.”
“That wouldn’t work, Addie, and you know it.”
Her vision went blurry. She swiped at her face. Laz put a hand on her shoulder. “It’s just not our time, Addie.” He sounded like he was choking.
“Captain Halsey, contact the bridge. Captain Halsey, contact the bridge.” The public address system echoed in the vast expanse of the flight deck.
Addison sighed and stood up.
“What about the Renegade?” she asked, looking around the bridge.
Laz looked up at her. “I’m giving it to Topper and Little Dick—and Mimi, of course. I’m sure they’ll lose it in a poker game within a few days, but they’ve earned it.”
The loudspeaker blared again, calling her name. He stood up and held out his hand. “I guess this is goodbye, Addison. I wish you the best, really I do.”
Addison stared at his hand, then stepped close to Laz and kissed him. His arm slid around her waist and the other hand cupped the back of her neck.
Twenty years slipped away in an instant. She tasted her past and her future on his tongue. The heat of his body recalled in her nights of joy and the pain of absence. Her chest swelled with love known and love lost until all she heard was the thunder of her own heartbeat.
She broke the kiss and stepped back.
“For good luck,” she said. “And I told you to call me Addie.”
Laz leaned back against the pilot’s chair, breathing hard. He started to say something but stopped himself. Instead he smiled at her and offered a lazy salute.
“Happy hunting, Captain.”
Chapter 47
An undisclosed location in Russian space
The airlock door rolled open, allowing Russian President Oleksiy Ivanov to walk stiffly down the ramp. He gritted his teeth at the soreness of his limbs. He hated space travel and the stress it put on his body. It would take him a week to recover from this trip.
“This way, sir.” The doctor was a slim, red-haired woman with a quick step and no humor. All business, that one.
“We still have him sedated,” she said over her shoulder as Oleksiy hobbled along behind her. She paused at a security station to allow the system to scan her biometrics. “He’s been placed in a completely sealed environment with limited staff access. If they are communicating with him, we’ll be able to determine how.”
“Trust me, doctor, they are communicating with their agents.”
She took him through three more security stations before they arrived at a room with a wall of solid glass. It was dark behind the glass and Oleksiy could see their reflections.
“Lights,” the doctor said.
Brilliant illumination revealed a naked man huddled in the corner.
“Balasz Soldova,” the doctor said, reading from a clipboard. “Believed to be forty-two years old, but since he is an orphan, there is no validated birth certificate. The first bona fide record we have is at twelve years old. Prior to capture, he was a colonel in the FSB.”
The man looked up. He had a hangdog expression. If the aliens wanted to hide their agents in ordinary-looking people, they were doing a good job with this one.
“I want to speak to him,” Oleksiy said.
The doctor nodded, waving her hand at the camera.
“Balasz, do you know who I am?” Oleksiy said.
The man nodded.
“I want to speak to your masters.”
Balasz’s eyes filled with tears. “I don’t know what you are talking about,” he said in a wailing tone.
The doctor leaned close to Oleksiy. “He’s telling the truth, at least as far as we can tell. Maybe the Swarm needs to switch him on somehow?”
Oleksiy rubbed his chin and shifted his weight to ease his aching knees. “How do we do that?”
The doctor cocked an eyebrow. “We have a test protocol, but it will be unpleasant. And it might not work.”
“What are the downsides to it?”
“It could kill him,” the doctor said.
“Do it.”
The “test protocol” involved suffocating the prisoner as they painstakingly opened each transmission band to search for any possible incoming signal. Even Oleksiy felt queasy as he watched the man’s contortions. The blood vessels in his eyes ruptured, and his mouth gaped open as he tried to breathe.
When they cycled through a tiny spectrum of the meta-space band, Balasz’s head snapped up and he glared at them through the glass.
“Stop!” the doctor shouted. “Leave that channel open and restore normal atmosphere to the test chamber.”
Balasz climbed to his feet, breathing deeply of the returning atmosphere. His bloodshot eyes were bright. “What do you want?” he growled at Oleksiy.
“Am I speaking to the Swarm?”
Balasz nodded.
Oleksiy grinned. “I have a proposal for you.”
Thanks for reading INVINCIBLE: The First Swarm War - Book One. If you enjoyed our time together, I’d truly appreciate your review on Amazon. It only takes a few minutes and every customer voice helps the next reader make a good buying decision.
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And now for a real treat. Flip the page to read Chapter One of the next book in the First Swarm War series, AVENGER by Chris Pourteau.
AVENGER:
The First Swarm War - Book Two
By Chris Pourteau
Chapter 1
Crater Joe’s
Lunar Base, Sol System
The music was too loud for his liking. It was some goddamned random-rhythm synth crap without a beat to tap your toes to. And the air smelled like someone had blast-tested thruster engines through dirty underwear.
The man in the corner motioned to the waitress, putting two fingers in the air. The drink he’d ordered before sat as-yet untouched on the table—but two more couldn’t hurt. Maybe he could drink his senses dull.
“Same thing, sir?” she shouted as she walked up. He nodded and received her customer-tip-me smile in return before she retreated to fill his order.
That must be the guy now, he thought, leaning back in his chair. The man just entering the bar was nearly as wide as he was tall. He stood looking from side to side, searching, until he found the dark figure eyeing him from across the crowded room.
Approaching the corner table, the fat man yelled over the music, “Name’s Barstow!” and stretched out his hand. It hung in the air a few seconds, then dropped. “So, one of those, eh? All stink and no suave.”
Good call, Fats. Goddamn, that synth crap was grating on his nerves.
“Mind if I sit down?” asked Barstow. “My lower back’s killing me.”
I’ll bet it is, thought the man in shadow as he stared at the fat man’s belly. He tossed his hand toward a chair and Barstow sat down.
“Am I addressing the famous—or should I say infamous—Codeine?” Barstow’s bushy eyebrows danced with drama. “Why do they call you that anyway?”
Codeine inhaled slowly, then leaned in so he didn’t have to shout over the shrieking that passed for music. He smelled the fat man’s cheap cologne. Sweat seemed to be the main ingredient. “Because I take away the pain.”
“What…like the drug?”
Codeine stared for a moment. “Yeah, like the drug.”
The folds in the fat man’s neck ballooned as he dropped his head. “Wait—I get it! A bounty hunter named Code
ine. I get it!”
“Keep your fucking voice down,” the hunter hissed. He drew in another breath. Let’s get this business over with. “You have something for me?”
The waitress was approaching with the drinks. Codeine sat back to allow her room.
“Hey, thanks!” said Barstow, grabbing the second shot before it hit the table. A quick flick of his wrist and the glass was empty. “How about another, honey?” He slapped her on the ass, making her jump. “You hear me?”
Her face took on that look—the one that debates the merits of keeping your job versus the virtues of teaching someone manners.
Codeine saved her the decision. He leaned forward again, placing a hand on the fat man’s arm. “She heard you,” he said. Barstow tried to withdraw, but Codeine’s grip held him like iron.
“Sir,” she said, addressing the hunter, “would you like something else?” Her smile was one hundred percent for her hero.
Codeine nodded. “Bring him whatever he wants. And me another one of these.” He finally downed the whiskey in front of him. Before the fat man could commandeer it, he reached out to claim the remaining shot the waitress had just set on the table.
She looked to Barstow. “And what would you like, sir?” The question was standard. The tone wasn’t.
“Give me an Armstrong A-hole. Extra bitters.”
She made a note and walked away. The jerky synth-jazz seemed to score her movements.
“Gonna give me my arm back?”
Admiring the waitress’s swinging hips, Codeine let go and sat back. “You got my package or not?”
Barstow nodded, smiling with his teeth on parade. “I like to get to know my partners a little before I do business.”
“I don’t.”
The fat man drew himself up. “You hunters are all alike. No manners.”
“Hand it over or I walk.”
Barstow blew out spit with his disdain. “You can’t. You were specifically requested. And you don’t say no to these people—”