Avalon Trilogy: Castle Federation Books 1-3: Includes Space Carrier Avalon, Stellar Fox, and Battle Group Avalon

by Glynn Stewart

  “They’re back on Castle?” Kyle asked politely.

  “Yeah, they’re in New Cardiff, just outside Joint Command,” Blair confirmed. “It was convenient when I was in Planning, but then Admiral Kane convinced me to take this command. What about your boy?”

  Kyle shifted uncomfortably.

  “His mother and I don’t speak,” he admitted. “I haven’t seen the boy in years.”

  He didn’t like to admit that he’d never seen his son. He wouldn’t pretend to himself that he hadn’t run away from Lisa and Jacob, but his Captain didn’t need to know the details.

  “I’m surprised,” Blair said quietly. “Your file has you paying the highest voluntary child support the Space Force will allow.”

  The Wing Commander twitched. He wasn’t aware that datum was in the file his Captain could see.

  “The Force takes care of most of my needs,” he said carefully. “My ex is still in school – she’s studying for a medical specialization in neural augmentation and neurosurgery. She lives with my mom, and I help make sure the boy is taken care of. It’s the least I owe them.”

  “Becoming a father was the happiest moment of my life,” Blair said quietly, his hand on the picture of his daughters. “I can’t imagine missing more than a decade of their lives.”

  Kyle was saved, thankfully, by the arrival of Lieutenant-Major Ahmed Khadem from having to respond to that comment. He gratefully accepted the opportunity to talk about safe topics like a rapist under his command, rather than his family situation.

  “Captain, Wing Commander,” Khadem greeted them as he entered the office. The Lieutenant-Major – roughly equivalent to one of Kyle’s Flight Commanders – was the senior member of the Federation Marines serving as Military Police aboard Avalon. Even once they embarked the short battalion of Marines they were taking on their tour with them, Khadem would still stand apart from those troops as the Ship’s Marshal.

  “I don’t know about you two, but I do actually sleep at night,” the MP, a dark-skinned man with jet-black eyes and hair, told them dryly. “I intended to stop by your office tomorrow to pay my respects, Commander Roberts, but I’m guessing something more urgent came up?”

  “Take a look at this,” Kyle told him, passing the chip Hammond had given him to the MP. “I’ve made sure there are copies of this in the system,” he continued. “It seems to have gone astray the last time it was handed over.”

  “There’s a reason Lieutenant-Major Khadem came aboard with me,” Blair said grimly as he brought up the executive summary of the report. Speed-reading it, the Captain cursed aloud. “And this went missing?”

  “I haven’t had a chance to pin down Stanford about it,” Kyle admitted. “I’d prefer to grill him over it myself before we get official – he drafted this report, after all, and that makes me willing to extend him some credit.”

  “Is there proof of these accusations?” Khadem asked, eyeing the terse text of the summary Blair’s computer was throwing on the wall.

  “The appendices include camera footage locating Randall, security tracker records, and the report of the ship’s doctor on Lieutenant Williams’ injuries,” Kyle said quietly. “All of them checked out as legitimate Navy records. And equivalent time stamps and index numbers are missing from Avalon’s records.”

  “That is almost as terrifying as the allegation that one of our senior officers raped an officer aboard this ship,” Blair said flatly. “Marshal – I want you to look into how this report vanished from our systems in detail, is that clear?”

  “As crystal, sir,” Khadem said flatly.

  “And Randall?” Kyle asked softly.

  “You have the authority to sign his arrest order yourself,” Blair pointed out.

  “He’s my second in command,” Kyle replied. “I want both of our authorizations on the order. Mine is already in the system,” he told Khadem.

  The Captain nodded, blinking rapidly as he accessed Avalon’s computer, clearly adding his approval before he turned to the ship’s senior Military Policeman.

  “Marshal Khadem, arrest Flight Commander James Randall,” the Captain ordered.

  The Marine grinned and bowed slightly.

  “Insha’Allah,” he said quietly. “With pleasure, sir.”

  Kyle accompanied Khadem and his Military Police to Randall’s quarters. It was tradition that the MPs didn’t enter Flight Country without an escort of a senior Space Force officer, mostly to remind the MPs that in this section of the ship, even the Captain’s authority had to go through the CAG.

  Khadem had called ahead and had a team of three MPs, probably half of the police awake on the ship as it approached midnight, meet them at the entrance to section set aside for the senior Space Force officers aboard. All three were in full uniform, including black shell body armor and stunners.

  This was his territory, and Kyle led the way to Randall’s quarters without hesitation. One of the many advantages of the high-bandwidth neural interfaces used by starfighter flight crews was the ability to download and follow a map without anyone around you being able to tell.

  “Ready?” he asked the MPs as they halted outside the Flight Commander’s door. The Marshal and his men drew their stunners and nodded grimly, and Kyle flipped an override code from his implant to the door lock.

  The door slid quietly open and the MPs charged in. Kyle could fault neither Randall’s reflexes nor his paranoia. From the speed he was moving, he’d clearly had some kind of alarm programmed into his implants in case the door opened unexpectedly, and he had a gun to hand, readily reached from his bed.

  The pistol barked once in the humming quiet of a starship at midnight. One of the MPs stumbled backwards, breathing sharply, but it was the only shot Randall fired. Even as he pulled the trigger, the stunners opened up, sparking electron lasers that left the Flight Commander spasming in agony as electricity coursed through his body.

  “You okay Stef?” Khadem quickly asked the shot MP. She flashed him a thumbs up, rubbing a gloved hand over the visible dent in her body armor. The Marshal then turned to Randall, who had fallen from his bed and was now twitching on the floor.

  “Flight Commander James Randall,” he said formally, “you are under arrest. You have the right to remain silent – anything you say will be recorded by police implants and may be used in your court martial. You have the right to military counsel provided by the Federation. Do you understand these rights?”

  Randall’s only response was to whimper against the pain of the stunner blast.

  5

  New Amazon System, Castle Federation

  08:10 July 7, 2735 Earth Standard Meridian Date/Time

  DSC-001 Avalon – CAG’s Office

  His late night wearing on him, Kyle had settled a massive coffee and several donuts on his desk to work his way through before diving back into the records and paperwork of his new command. He’d only taken a single bite of the first donut, however, before Stanford barged into his office.

  “One generally knocks when entering their boss’s office, Commander,” Kyle observed calmly, as he put the donut back on the plate.

  “You arrested Randall,” Stanford said flatly. He had apparently barely thrown his shipsuit on, and the uniform outfit wasn’t sealed correctly. His blond hair was an uncombed mess, and he seemed unable to stand still.

  “Yes,” the Wing Commander confirmed. “Congratulations, you are now my senior squadron commander. Assuming,” he said sharply, leaning forward across his desk to capture the agitated officer’s gaze, “you have an acceptable explanation for how your report about Lieutenant Williams’ rape went missing.”

  He’d expected that dart to land home. Stanford’s reaction was not what he expected. The Flight Commander shook his head.

  “You couldn’t have asked me that before you loosed the bull in the china shop?” the pale-skinned officer demanded, his blue eyes even more watery than normal. “If I’d known you were willing to move this quickly, we could have acted to protect t
he Lieutenant, rather than putting her in danger.”

  “What do you mean?” Kyle demanded.

  “I was warned, yesterday, that if that history was dredged up there would be no witnesses to testify,” Stanford told him stiffly. “I needed time Commander – time to be sure I could trust you. Time to be sure we could protect Williams. Now…”

  “Who threatened you?” Kyle was on his feet now, but his voice was quiet – so quiet he worried for a moment that Stanford hadn’t heard him, as the man did not reply.

  “Who, Commander?” he repeated.

  “Vice Commodore Larson,” the older officer admitted in a quiet voice. “The first time, in this very office, after telling me that all copies of my report had been destroyed. He told me then that he would destroy what was left of my career and bury Williams.

  “Then yesterday,” he repeated. “Sir, please – we have to do something.”

  Kyle was already in the system, slamming an override code into the communications center to give him a direct line to the New Amazon Reserve Flotilla Station.

  “Get me Major Neilson,” he said sharply into the empty air, his implant turning on his computer and linking him through to the commander of the Station’s MPs.

  Part of his wall turned into a video screen, the image of the Major’s shaven-headed face appearing on it.

  “Wing Commander Roberts,” he said calmly. “I wasn’t expecting to see an emergency override code from you.

  “Major Neilson,” Kyle greeted him. “This is urgent. I need you to take Flight Lieutenant Michelle Williams into immediate protective custody.” He glanced over at Stanford, the smaller man starting to sag in relief. “I have reasonable grounds to believe her life is danger.”

  He paused.

  “I need the station locked down, Major,” he said finally. “I’ll get you the authorization from Captain Blair as senior Navy officer in the system as soon as I can, but you need to make sure no one leaves the Station until he confirms otherwise.”

  The Major blinked.

  “I’ll have Williams taken in immediately,” he confirmed. “I can’t lock the station without Blair’s order, though, and I’ll need reinforcements,” he said. Kyle met his gaze calmly, and the Major shrugged. “Hell, I knew your father, Commander. Get me Blair’s order ASAP – I’ll make sure nobody leaves. You damn well better get me reinforcements,” he concluded, “I’m not sure how many of my own men I can trust if the rocket is going up.”

  The video cut, and Kyle turned to Stanford.

  “I’m going to need you to tell the Marshal everything you told me,” he said quietly. “If Larson tried to cover for Randall, then by the Honor of the Space Force, he will burn right next to him.”

  New Amazon System, Castle Federation

  08:30 July 6, 2735 ESMDT

  New Amazon Reserve Flotilla Station

  Flight Lieutenant Michelle Williams had problems. Jumping at loud noises. Flashbacks. Nightmares. Worst of all, a doctor who refused to admit these existed, since diagnosing her with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder would require him to admit what had happened.

  She knew she looked like crap as she half-stumbled towards her quarters from yet another waste of time medical appointment. Her black hair was far past regulation length, matted and unkempt from a lack of brushing. Her eyes were bloodshot and her shipsuit wasn’t properly sealed. Her superiors in Flight Control kept threatening to write her up, but they didn’t get it.

  Michelle Williams was a pilot, equipped with neural implants ninety-eight percent of humans couldn’t even handle. Flying had been her escape from home, only to turn to ashes in her mouth – and then be stolen from her to protect her attacker.

  Between modern therapy, drugs and nanites, even PTSD could be treated. In the aftermath of the attack, even as she had been panicking, terrified and hurt, she’d known the Space Force would take care of her. The thought that a senior officer could bury that she’d been attacked – could in many ways bury her – hadn’t even occurred to her.

  A year of neglect and betrayal left her wandering half-lost through the corridors of the Flotilla Station, lost, unkempt, and jumping at every tiny noise.

  The grinding noise of an improperly maintained door sliding open had her skittering away from the door like a terrified rabbit. Shaking herself and feeling silly, Michelle turned to face the door to see who had entered the hallway.

  Her attempt at finding calm shuddered and she swallowed hard at the sight of Senior Chief Kawika Liago, Vice Commodore Larson’s right hand man. Only one man at Rio Grande had the power, if not the authority, to force her doctor to ignore her issues – and that man was Larson.

  “Ms. Williams,” the massive shaven-headed petty officer rumbled. “I am truly sorry about this.”

  “About wh–” Williams began, and then she saw the weapon Liago was drawing. She didn’t wait to see what it was before she turned to run.

  She triggered an emergency alert in her implant as she began to run, but that was all she did before the dart-gun barked twice. Her shipsuit was unarmoured, unable to prevent the darts from delivering their load of nanites into her system.

  Her run continued for about a dozen more steps and then every muscle in her body froze and her implants shut down as the various nanites took effect.

  Michelle went down face first, able to feel her nose break as she smashed into the metal decking, but unable to move or respond in any way, even through her implants.

  Liago picked her up with ease, slinging her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Part of her mind was wondering when she’d lost so much weight, even as the rest of her was panicking and trying to access her implants.

  Her eyes were paralyzed open. She couldn’t even not watch at Liago carried her away from her quarters, in the direction of the flight decks. It wasn’t until they turned off from the main corridors, into a maintenance section that Michelle knew linked to a set of airlocks, that she realized what was going to happen.

  She was going to die. They were going to make it look like a suicide, and that would be all too believable to everyone around her. The doctor might have refused to acknowledge her condition, but everyone around her knew something was wrong. If she appeared to commit suicide by airlock, everyone would believe it.

  Whatever else may have happened since, Michelle Williams had joined the Federation Space Force because she was a fighter. She tried to struggle, tried to get even a tiny amount of motion, even enough control back to retrigger her implant’s emergency signal.

  Her body betrayed her. The nanites were blocking nerve signals throughout her body and had disabled her implants. There was nothing she could do as Liago calmly carried her towards the outside of the ship.

  Slung backwards over Liago’s shoulder, though, she saw the MPs arrive before he did, and realized her emergency signal had got out before her implants had been disabled. Even if she could have warned Liago, she wouldn’t have.

  Four Military Policemen, in body armor and carrying stunners, came around the corner behind them at a trot. At the sight of her and Liago, they broke into a run. They closed half of the distance to Liago before the Chief heard them, and turned back to face them.

  “Chief Liago, please put Lieutenant Williams down,” the lead MP asked politely. Michelle could no longer see what was going on, as Liago’s broad back was between her and the MPs.

  “She seems to have broken into the liquor early,” Liago rumbled. “I found her near the airlocks, I was going to take her back to her quarters.”

  It sounded reasonable to Michelle. Liago was senior to the four men who’d intercepted her – and was known to have the ear of the Vice Commodore. She was doomed.

  “Chief Liago, put her down,” the MP ordered flatly. “We will take care of her.”

  It might have been Michelle’s imagination, but she was sure she heard the distinctive humming of stunners being charged.

  “I’ve got her, Corporal,” Liago replied, his voice grumpy. “There’s no
need for concern.”

  “Lieutenant Williams is to be placed in protective custody and transferred to Avalon for her protection,” the MP told him flatly. “You will put her down and step away from her or we will fire.”

  Liago dropped Williams roughly, her limp body crumpling to the metal floor and her head thumping against the wall. Despite the pain, she was unable to even blink through the paralyzing nanites, and could see the entire scene with the big Chief and the four armored MPs.

  She saw him pull the gun out from his shipsuit pocket before the MPs did, and tried to shout a warning. The nanites still kept her frozen, and she watched in horror as Liago spun, far faster than she ever expected the big man to move, and fired.

  The body armor of the lead cop exploded into two red splotches as the big pistol barked loudly.

  The MPs responded instantly. The sparking noise of stunners answered the pistol’s crash as invisible beams slashed across the corridor. Liago jerked as the first beams struck home, but remained standing.

  Whatever body armor or inhuman endurance the Senior Chief had, however, didn’t help him when the MPs overcharged the stunners and fired again.

  Michelle had always been vaguely aware that the electron laser of a Navy stunner could be turned up far past the ‘shock’ setting, but watching it happen was an entirely different experience. The air smelled vaguely burnt as three visible lightning bolts blasted across the hallway.

  Kawika Liago stood frozen for a moment as a new smell of burnt meat filled the hallway, and then, slowly, collapsed.

  New Amazon System, Castle Federation

  09:20 July 6, 2735 ESMDT

  Shuttle Avalon-Delta, en route to New Amazon Reserve Flotilla Station

  “I thought I told you to be debriefed by Marshal Khadem,” Wing Commander Roberts’ voice came over Stanford’s in-head link. “I don’t recall ordering you to assign yourself to fly Major Neilson’s reinforcements over to the Station.”