Sentinels: Children of Valhalla (Sentinels Saga Book 1)

by Linn Schwab

  Commander Jeffries started to respond, but was immediately interrupted by Lieutenant Marlowe.

  “Commander,” Veronica informed her, “your missiles are arriving.” She checked a readout on her display. “Four seconds to detonation,” she said. Looking out through the nearest window, she focused her attention in the direction of Pangea. The others in the room all followed her example just in time to see three brilliant flashes in the distance. She then laid her headset down on the console, and somberly announced, “Scratch one heavy cruiser.”

  Jenny pulled her eyes away from the window and screamed at the commander in shock and disbelief. “You called a nuclear strike in on Robin’s position? You were never even going to give her a chance!”

  Commander Jeffries shook her head in anguish and tried to offer an explanation. “She never really had a chance, Jenny, she—”

  “But you couldn’t have known that,” Jenny interrupted her. “She might have been able to outrun them!”

  “No,” the commander said with regret. “Robin’s key only allowed her to access fifteen percent of her main engines’ power.”

  Jenny was absolutely stunned by the disclosure. She shook her head in disbelief and voiced a scathing response in disapproval. “Is there any other way you could think of to slit their throats, Commander?”

  Major Richards immediately stepped in and reprimanded her for the remark. “Captain McNeil!” she insisted, warning Jenny to be more respectful.

  Realizing she had stepped out of bounds, Jenny offered an emotional apology. “I’m sorry,” she softly insisted. There was so much more that she wanted to say, but she couldn’t contain her feelings any longer and quickly fled the room with tears in her eyes.

  Commander Jeffries took a deep breath and tried to suppress the emotions she was feeling. It was hard enough on her to have had such a young squad killed, knowing she was at least partially responsible for it. But now she was going to have to face Robin’s battalion, and live with the consequences of her decisions. A task made even more difficult by Jenny’s confrontation with her.

  She knew the trainees were still standing behind her. They’d been listening to every last word of the exchange. How would they react to this situation? How would they perceive her precautions to protect them? Would they be appreciative of her efforts to keep them safe, or would they feel her actions merely expressed a lack of confidence in their abilities?

  She turned around to face the girls and tried to make sense of the look in their eyes. It wasn’t the look of abject betrayal, but more one of sadness mixed with confusion. She got the impression she could still work with them — that their sensibilities hadn’t been completely turned against her. She considered trying to make a brief statement to them, but Major Richards quickly intervened and instructed them to leave the room.

  As the young Sentinels quietly filed out through the exit, they realized their lives had just been altered forever. Not only were they saddened by the loss of their friends, but they were also deeply disturbed by the harsh glimpse into their own mortality. The christening flights they had so cherished just a day earlier appeared to them now in a completely different light. They no longer represented just a measure of competency; they had put the girls one step closer to combat, and all of the consequences that went along with it.

  Commander Jeffries approached Major Richards, but avoided making eye contact with her. “Maryanne,” she said, after the girls had all left, “take care of things here for me, will you. I’ll be in my office if you need me.” With that, she somberly walked out of the control room, hoping to escape from the endless heartaches it seemed determined to keep bringing her.

  VOICES 037

  Commander Jeffries eased into her chair once again and gazed down at the glowing display screen on her desktop. There was one final task she still needed to perform before she could attempt to let go of ECHO 5. “Computer,” she said, awakening the display, “access personnel records. Update status of ECHO 5, Second Battalion, Four Q Eleven.” A group photo of ECHO 5 appeared on the display. There they were for her to see once again — the last time she would ever look upon their faces. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, and closed the book on their short careers. “List all members as killed in action.” The computer responded with a faint compliance chirp, and the picture was promptly erased from the display.

  The commander leaned down over her desk again and laid the side of her head on its surface. She relaxed and waited for the voices to come to her — and it didn’t take long for them to respond. Who will it be first? she wondered. Will it be Stacey’s crew, or will it be Robin’s? It was Michelle who answered that question for her:

  “We are well–‌equipped to take out a heavy cruiser.”

  “No,” she pleaded, allowing the tears to flow from her eyes. Of all the things they could’ve said to her…

  “Captain … it’s our duty to attack that ship.”

  How could they have believed that? she wondered. Am I responsible for making them think that way?

  An image suddenly appeared in her thoughts — a single blinking line of text:

  CATASTROPHIC FAILURE

  That’s what I am, she told herself. The only commander ever to lose a training squad. “Take care of them for me, Stacey,” she whispered. “Take care of Robin and the others.”

  But Stacey Ennicado whispered something back to her, and the voices began to grow fainter and fainter. Through her tears, she imagined she could see Stacey, standing before her with outstretched arms and a comforting, pleasant smile on her face. She smiled back at the apparition of Stacey … and a few moments later, the voices were silenced.

  REQUIEM 038

  “Major Richards,” Veronica said, looking down at the control room floor in exhaustion. “May I be excused?”

  The major examined her closely and noted the fatigue that seemed apparent in her eyes. “Certainly, Lieutenant. You’ve done all that we could ask you to do. Go and get some rest now. Return to your duty schedule tomorrow.”

  “Thank you, Major.”

  Veronica wearily moved toward the exit.

  “Miranda,” the major called out, “call off the search for the Wallaby, and tell all of our patrol ships to resume their assigned duties.”

  “Yes, Major.”

  “I’ll be in my quarters if you need me,” she said. “Notify me if anything comes up. Give Commander Jeffries some time to recover.”

  “Yes, Major.”

  As Major Richards passed through the corridor, she noticed the commander’s office door was open. She stopped at the door and leaned inside. The commander appeared to be asleep at her desk. Deciding it was best not to disturb her, she reached for the switch to close the door. But her senses were telling her something was wrong. There was a stillness in the room that seemed unnatural — a stillness even sleep could not have produced.

  “Commander?” she whispered through the silence. There was no response to her call. She quickly moved to the commander’s side and placed a hand against her neck. There was no life left in the commander at all; just the empty, lingering shell of a once devoted Sentinel.

  “Not you, too,” the major said, laying her hand on the commander’s back. She closed her eyes and somberly whispered, “We’re all going to miss you, Commander.”

  Sitting on a bunk in her squadron’s sleeping quarters, Jenny reflected on her time spent with Robin. The rest of her pilots had retreated to the lounge, to give her a little time to herself. The first person who came by to see how she was doing was her fellow Hornet captain, Charlie Sinclair.

  “Hey,” Charlie said, slipping in through the doorway. “I thought I’d better check up on you. How are you feeling?”

  Jenny quietly shook her head.

  “Yeah,” Charlie said, “that’s what I thought. I know Captain Starling meant a lot to you.” She sat down beside Jenny on the edge of the bunk, offering a little support by her presence. “I feel the same way about Christy, you know. I
can’t imagine how I’d feel if something like this happened to her. We’ve spent so much time together over the past two weeks. It’s almost like she’s a part of me now.”

  Jenny nodded in understanding. “Yeah,” she said, “that’s just what it’s like. It’s like Robin was a part of me.”

  “I wish I could’ve gotten to know her better. She seemed like a very bright girl. And Christy spoke very highly of her. A lot of girls may idolize the Hornets, but I think Christy really idolized Robin. And I know the two of them were very close friends. She’s pretty broken up about it.”

  “Yeah,” Jenny said, pausing to wipe away a few tears, “Robin had that effect on people. I’ve never met anyone quite like her. She was just so warm and caring. It’s hard to even imagine her taking a warship into combat. That just seems so unlike her, you know?”

  “And yet we all saw it happen, didn’t we,” Charlie said. “Very convincingly so. And it’s not something any of us are likely to forget. She left her mark on all of us, Jenny.”

  Jenny forced a somber smile. “She left a pretty good dent in that cruiser, too.”

  Charlie smiled and laughed a little. “She certainly did.”

  “So,” Jenny said, trying to push her sorrow aside, “tell me about Christy. How would you describe your little prodigy?”

  “Well,” Charlie said, “…feisty, I think is how I’d describe her. There’s just no other way to put it. She has the spirit of a tiger, that girl. And she’s not the type to let anything stand in her way. When we told her she’d have thirty–‌six torpedoes to work with, the first thing she said was, ‘Why can’t I have fifty?’ She’s gonna be a real handful, for sure. If the commander allows her to, anyway.”

  Jenny took a deep breath and sighed. “The commander,” she said, shaking her head in regret. “I can’t believe I blew up at her like that. It was really thoughtless of me. I was just so…”

  “I know,” Charlie said, “I know. But I’m sure she understands, Jenny. The commander knows what she’s doing. There’s a reason she was given that position. She knows how to read people really well.”

  “She did,” Nancy softly interrupted, leaning into the room through the doorway. “She was very good at that.” She continued with a tone of sadness in her voice, “But Commander Jeffries is gone now.”

  “Gone?” Jenny said, looking somewhat confused. “Gone where?”

  Nancy stepped closer and placed her hands on Jenny’s shoulders. “She’s gone from this life now, Jenny,” she said. “Major Richards just informed me a few minutes ago. I thought I should be the one to tell you.”

  As she made her way to Commander Jeffries’ office, Jenny’s thoughts were focused on what she was going to say to Major Richards. She was certain she would find the major there, since she was officially second–‌in–‌command on Volaris. Her hunch turned out to be correct. The major was sitting quietly on Commander Jeffries’ desk, staring out into space through a small round window. Jenny stopped at the entrance and gently knocked on the door. “May I come in?” she asked.

  The major gestured for her to enter. “Please do,” she said.

  Jenny took a few steps forward. “I just wanted to say how sorry I am about Commander Jeffries. I’m sure the two of you were very close. She really did seem like a wonderful person.”

  “She was indeed,” the major said. “And she was a great officer as well.” She waited to see how Jenny would react.

  Jenny swallowed uncomfortably. The next question was going to be difficult for her. “Any idea … what happened to her?”

  The major shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe she just lost the will to live.”

  Jenny looked down at the floor in silence, with traces of guilt showing through in her expression. “Look,” she said, “…about what I said to her earlier. I didn’t mean to … um …”

  “It’s alright, Captain,” the major assured her. “I know what you’re thinking. But you’re not to blame for Commander Jeffries’ death. The truth is, she had issues long before you arrived on Volaris. In fact, part of my responsibilities here included trying to keep her afloat.”

  Jenny looked at her in confusion. The major took a deep breath and continued.

  “A few years ago,” she explained, “there was another incident here. A young training crew‌ … DELTA 9, I think was their tag. Anyway, they were out on their third training flight when an electrical fire broke out on their ship. Before they had a chance to contain it, it spread to the magazine and touched off a torpedo. There were no survivors.”

  “Oh my god,” Jenny said in realization.

  The major continued, “In the wake of that incident, Commander Jeffries concluded that sending training squads out with torpedoes on board was an unacceptable risk to their safety. I just wanted to make you aware of that, Jenny, so you might have a little better understanding of her motives. Whatever you may think of Commander Jeffries, she was just doing what she thought was best. And at the time, I have to admit, it was a decision I also fully agreed with.”

  Jenny nodded in acceptance. “And what about now?” she asked.

  “Obviously, after what we witnessed earlier, I’m going to have to reconsider that position. It seems we may be selling these girls short. Robin’s attack was perfectly executed. You did a real fine job with her.”

  “Thank you,” Jenny said. “And, if it helps you in making your decision, there’s something I’d like to share with you as well.” She took a deep breath and gathered her thoughts. “It’s not just the fact that Robin was killed that hurts me,” she said. “That’s a risk all Sentinels have to take. But she might have at least enjoyed a brief taste of glory … and even that was stolen from her. I think you should send these flights out fully armed, Major. Even if none of them ever see any combat, you’re doing these girls a disservice if you don’t. Their whole lives are dedicated to this one purpose. It’s the only reason they even exist.”

  ECHOES 039

  Starlight trickled through the Wallaby’s windows and shimmered in the silence of her once noisy bridge. It filtered through the darkness that now prevailed there, and reflected off the surfaces of Robin Starling’s eyes. Somewhere buried deep behind those reflections were the synapses that had recorded the events of her life. Eventually those memories would decay and be lost, never to exist in the universe again. But for the moment, everything was still inside there, and still accessible to one extent or another: sounds, images, voices, words … struggling to come to the surface once more:

  hello little one your name is Robin are you hungry

  can you say honeybee you’re leaving the nursery today

  can you put your arm in here all be addressed as Sentinels

  second battalion last day on Valhalla think she understands

  HornetsarehereyoungestaceinSentinelkeystotheCongoclass…

  …Make us proud, little sisters!

  “TRY IT AGAIN!” Michelle’s voice called out, echoing up from below the bridge.

  Robin suddenly blinked and flinched. She peered through the darkness toward Katrina and gave her a silent nod of approval. “Go ahead,” she said.

  Katrina flipped a switch on Sheri’s console and the bridge was immediately flooded with light.

  Robin turned to Caroline. “Get the engines back on!” she ordered, shivering from the lack of heat on the bridge. As Caroline attempted to fire up the engines, Robin dropped to the floor to check on Sheri.

  Phoebe was kneeling there beside her, cradling Sheri’s bandaged head in her arms. They’d patched her up as well as they could in the darkness, but had not been able to see the full extent of her injuries.

  “How is she?” Robin asked. “It looks like she’s lost a lot of blood.”

  “She’s still breathing,” Phoebe said. “I think the bleeding has stopped for now.”

  The Wallaby’s engines roared to life. Warm air began to circulate through the bridge. “Try to keep her warm,” Robin said. “Let’s try to make her as comfortable as w
e can.”

  Michelle ran onto the bridge seconds later, with a flashlight in one hand and a welding mask in the other. “Is everyone alright?” she asked. She then noticed the blood soaked bandages covering the upper half of Sheri’s head. “Oh no!” she said, “what happened to her?”

  “It looks like something hit her in the face,” Robin said. “She was closest to where that first shell hit us.” She looked around and tried to assess the situation. The Wallaby was floating behind a large asteroid, where Caroline had positioned it before passing out. All of the girls had lost consciousness for a while. But since the ship had lost all of its power, they had no way of knowing how long they’d been out. “Katrina,” she ordered, “try the surveillance scope. See if that enemy ship is still out there.”

  “What are we gonna do, Robin?” Michelle asked. “We don’t have any torpedoes.”

  “I don’t know. We’ll figure something out. What happened down below?”

  “Something must’ve severed the main battery cable. I welded a patch in. I think it’s gonna hold.”

  “The ship is gone,” Katrina announced as she panned the surveillance camera around. “I don’t see it anywhere.”

  “Maybe they withdrew to make repairs,” Mindy suggested. “It looked like we hit ‘em pretty hard.”

  Robin nodded and said, “We need to get out of here before they come back.”

  “Where are we gonna go?” Caroline asked. “I think we’re in enemy space.”

  “Michelle,” Robin insisted, “see if you can find out where we are. Maybe we can get a reading now that we’re outside the asteroid field.”

  Michelle ran to her station and made a quick check of her instruments. “Caroline’s right,” she said. “We’re definitely in enemy space.”

  “Okay,” Mindy said, “so how do we get back to friendly space?”

  “It looks like we have three choices,” Michelle said. She scrolled through the image of a map on her screen. “We can try to go back through the debris field, or we can try to go over the top. Or, we are pretty close to one end of the field, so we could try to go around it that way.”