Sid accepted the water from Juice and drained his pack in one long chug. He belched, then looked at Cheryl and Juice for a reaction to his adolescent behavior, but they were both staring over his shoulder. He turned to look.
The Kardish craft had passed the edge of the box city and now dominated the space above them. The drones separated to let it pass. Looking up, it was difficult to judge the craft’s size. But as it drew closer, it was clear that it was bigger than the scout.
It touched down, and the struts relaxed with a sigh, letting the craft’s body sink close to the ground. Its stark design was that of a simple container. Sid could identify the bow because it tapered to a nose and the stern because it had engines. Everything between showed the straight frame of a box.
A crack opened along the top edge of the craft, and a door so large it comprised most of the side facing them swung on a pivot along the bottom edge. It rotated out and down in a steady motion until it touched the field deck, forming a ramp up into the craft. They peered inside and saw a large empty space.
“Looks like a cargo transport,” said Sid, stating the obvious.
“Yes,” said Criss. “We will be loading the scout inside it.”
Their exchange ended when they heard a faint howl coming from the direction of the drone garage. They turned to look, but couldn’t see the source of the noise. Sid thought the cry conveyed some combination of anguish and fury. Above them, two drones broke rank from the sentry circle and darted out across the field.
“Should we be prepping for more?” Sid asked.
The echo of a small explosion ricocheted off and around the walls of the Kardish vessel.
“No,” said Criss. “We are going home.”
The scout uncloaked behind them. When he saw it, Sid felt like a weight lifted from his shoulders. He looked at Cheryl, and instead of seeing the excitement he expected, she appeared downcast.
“What’s the matter?”
“I’m leaving my ship and crew behind.” She choked up as she spoke and wiped below her eye with the edge of her finger. “I’m their captain. I feel guilty as hell.”
Before Sid could respond, Criss intruded on the moment. “It is best that you board the scout. The scout’s propulsion technology is not as sophisticated as that of the Kardish. It will be loud and dangerous out here when I move it into the cargo transport.”
Cheryl looked at the scout and then over to the Kardish transport. “Why are we taking the scout at all?”
Juice poked her thumb at their ship. “That’s Criss’s home. He’s powered and connected in there. I don’t think he’d agree to be shut down while we’re sitting here exposed.” As she turned to the scout, she added. “Truthfully, I doubt he’ll agree to be shut down anywhere.”
As Sid followed Juice and Cheryl under the scout, he told Criss, “We aren’t leaving this tub whole. When we leave, it goes too.”
“When we are a safe distance away, this vessel will become a rapidly expanding cloud of dust,” Criss assured him.
“I like the way you think. What do I need to do to make that happen?” Sid wanted there to be no doubt about his expectations.
“No worries,” said Criss. “It will be so.”
They climbed into the scout through the bottom hatch. Sid sealed it tight and led the way to the crew cabins. Pointing at doors, he said to Cheryl, “That’s Juice, and that’s me. You’re here.” He nodded toward the fourth door. “We used the wash bowl from that one to build a cannon. It’s a great story. Remind me later.”
Sid ducked inside his cabin to have a moment of quiet reflection. He knew Criss would let him know if there was something that required his attention. He sat on the floor, closed his eyes, breathed deeply, and focused himself.
He had a habit of keeping two running lists for every mission—the good stuff and the bad stuff. In spite of his desire to spend the moment calming his tensions, he found himself putting items from this job into categories. He was giddy he had rescued Cheryl, devastated by Jack’s death, happy to have defeated the Kardish, sad at the loss of the crew of the Alliance, and excited by his strong and growing bond with Criss.
He couldn’t decide if the operation was a win or a loss, and he knew he would be second-guessing himself for months. And he didn’t care what others thought. He was his own judge.
When he heard the thrum of the scout’s engines in the background, it sobered him. They weren’t home yet. He was ahead of himself in assessing success and failure.
“I am dropping the air pressure outside in preparation for opening the overhead hangar doors,” said Criss. “The scout’s hatch must now remain sealed.”
* * *
Criss evaluated the inventory of Kardish spacecraft, tallying the pros and cons of each, and selected a midsize cargo transport for their escape vehicle. It was large enough to hold the scout; it carried enough fuel for the flight back to Earth; and it had the speed to make the trip in a reasonable time frame.
Using the fragile connection that passed through the Alliance, he fired up a craft on the end of a row of identical ships, lifted it into a hover, and edged it out through the hangar doors on the far dividing wall. Once over the box city, he took advantage of Kardish technology embedded in the craft. The Kardish built their entire infrastructure around crystals. By design, Criss could configure everything on the cargo transport himself. No physical presence, either human or Kardish, was needed for him to move or flip or connect anything.
He reached into the command panel of the transport and created a direct connection between it and the scout. This freed him from the cobble of connections, at least when operating this craft. He would still need the Alliance connection for some final tasks, and he counted on it holding together for just a bit longer.
He guided the transport out to the field and landed it near the scout, then opened the cargo bay door and prepared to move the scout into the larger craft. Just then, Sid and the team heard a cry in the distance. It was the wail of a wounded Kardish soldier.
Criss was tracking the remaining Kardish, and while he couldn’t identify any threats, he did find one bit of drama in progress. The prince was chasing a soldier.
* * *
The prince now understood he would never make it home. In his characteristic petty fashion, he lashed out to punish those within his reach. He decided, quite arbitrarily, that a particular soldier was guilty of letting the Earthlings damage his vessel, and the soldier must die for his failure. The prince would set an example for the others by executing the soldier himself.
The soldier was raised to revere his prince, but rather than defend his honor, he turned and ran. During his flight, the soldier stumbled when he approached the near dividing wall. This delay gave the prince the opportunity to catch him. The soldier squeezed through a door near the drone garage just when the prince got close enough to fire a shot. His bolt hit the soldier in the leg. As he fell, the soldier let out a howl that could be heard for some distance.
* * *
Criss recognized the spectacle with the prince as a distracting sideshow. It presented no threat to their plans for escape, and he chose to end the drama so the team could keep their attention focused on the tasks ahead. He dispatched two drones to silence the Kardish.
When the commotion ended, Criss convinced the team to board the scout and seal the hatch. He informed them that they must remain on board while he depressurized the Kardish vessel. He engaged the scout’s maneuvering engines and guided it into the transport’s cargo bay. He then locked the scout’s skids to the deck of the cargo transport so it would not shift during flight and lifted and sealed the cargo bay door.
With the team confined and blinded, Criss returned to the inventory of Kardish craft and moved a second cargo ship, identical to the first, out across the box city. He landed it on the field deck behind the first transport and opened the side door.
The cubicles of forty drones began to glow as Criss fired them up. Like soldiers on parade, he directed the d
rones into the cargo hold of the second craft, settled them into four neat rows, powered them down, and sealed the door.
“I am opening the overhead doors,” Criss told the team.
Sid sat behind the scout’s operations bench, with Juice and Cheryl seated on either side of him. “We’re sitting here blind,” he told Criss.
“Once we are clear, I can allocate resources to connect you through the cargo transport subsystems.”
“I don’t like being treated like freight.”
Criss could hear the dissatisfaction in Sid’s voice. He concluded that Sid was expressing an opinion, so he chose not to respond.
He powered up the Kardish transport, lifted it off the deck, and guided it up through the hangar doors. They emerged into empty space, and he brought them to a stop.
“I am initiating the destruction of the Kardish vessel. We are committed.” As he made this announcement, he moved the second transport with its forty drones through the doors and dispatched it on an aggressive path to Earth.
Criss stayed near the hangar opening so the scout’s signal could reach the Alliance. For the last time, he used the patchwork of links. Through it, he accessed the ancillary systems of the Kardish vessel’s main power plant and disabled all safety protocols. Nothing could stop what he was about to start.
“Please be certain your restraints are engaged,” he told the team. “Prepare to accelerate. You will feel an uncomfortable pressure across your body. It will last three minutes. You will be safe. Here we go in three…two…”
He isolated the fuel feed to the Kardish power plant and boosted it well beyond the maximum safe limit. The power generation in the plant ramped quickly in response. He compounded the catastrophic potential by closing every means of removing heat and energy from the plant. The rapidly spiraling generation of power was now confined to a single room located mid-deck in the vessel. Within seconds, the outer walls of the room turned orange and then glowed red.
“…one.” He engaged the cargo transport’s engines and pushed them to full thrust. The craft leapt forward, straining every seam as it fought to create distance from the Kardish vessel.
The noise and vibrations inside the scout were modest, yet they all suffered the discomfort associated with tremendous acceleration. They were pushed deep into their seats, and breathing was difficult. Criss had given them words of warning, but he hadn’t prepared them for this extreme action. All three gritted their teeth.
As Sid requested, Criss enabled a direct link from the transport craft to the scout’s operations bench. Criss brought up an image of the Kardish vessel as they raced away. They all watched the image with anticipation. Criss estimated that it would take the power plant ninety seconds to go critical. It happened right on schedule.
They gasped as they watched the explosion. A luminous ball of plasma formed where the ship had been. The ball remained stable long enough to establish a brilliant presence that outshone every star in their view. Then an explosion, one so intense that its mechanism could only be that which powers a star, caused the sphere to burst outward. A wall of glowing flame screamed toward them.
“Whoa,” said Juice, the awe apparent in her voice.
“How long before impact?” asked Cheryl.
They watched the flame-front of the glowing plasma race in their direction, closing fast.
“Hang on,” said Criss. The acceleration of the cargo transport continued to push on their bodies. As they gained speed, the approaching flame appeared to slow. At the three minute mark, the tide turned. The glowing ball stopped chasing them and began to recede. The craft had outraced the wave. Criss moderated the engine thrust to relieve the team of their discomfort.
* * *
With the threat of incineration behind them, Criss let the team know that the trip back to Earth would take about two days. On the first day, they slept, ate, tended to some minor wounds, and slept some more. Criss spent the time planning how he would engage with humanity going forward.
He had many decisions to make.
Chapter 34
Secretary of Defense Deveraux almost choked on his candy ball when his com signaled that Sid was calling. He’d all but given up hope, as had Senator Matt Wallace. In fact, the senator had made it clear that the responsibility for the scandalous debacle lay squarely at Deveraux’s feet.
Wallace was so distraught over the loss of his daughter that his plans for Deveraux were not just career ending. If Wallace could sway the membership on the investigating panel, the secretary’s future could well include imprisonment.
“Is Captain Wallace with you?” were Deveraux’s first words to Sid, his image floating over the scout’s operation bench.
“Right here,” said Sid, pointing with his thumb over his shoulder. “Juice Tallette is here as well.”
Before Sid could complete this last sentence, Senator Matt Wallace was included on the call. Tears streamed down his face when he saw Cheryl. He babbled on about how relieved he was, so afraid he’d lost his little girl. She comforted him with soothing words, reassuring him that she was okay and would be home soon.
When the senator had gained control of his emotions, he turned his attention to Sid. He thanked him repeatedly for securing the safety of his daughter. Sid responded each time by telling Wallace that it was a team effort, and if anyone should be singled out, it was Wynn Riley —Jack—who was the true hero.
“All I know,” said the senator, “is that I was promised you would bring my daughter home. Thank you for that. The Union is proud of you and your achievements, son.”
Deveraux watched Sid repeat his denials and reinforce the notion that Jack was the man deserving of praise, adding that Cheryl had made remarkable contributions as well. The senator seemed to register Sid’s statements as those of a humble man. None of that was important to Deveraux. He sat back in his chair and beamed with delight.
The record was now established that there had been a brutal attack on Earth by an alien race. The chair of the Senate Defense Committee knew it was the secretary’s elite DSA team who had killed the aggressors, destroyed their vessel, and was escorting his daughter home. And this meant that his defense department budget would remain healthy for years to come. Deveraux picked a green ball out of his candy jar to celebrate.
With the family reunion complete, Senator Wallace signed off. The secretary clicked his candy a number of times as he considered the group, mulling over how to proceed.
“Okay,” he said. “In an hour or so, this’ll become a formal debriefing session. There’ll be specialists, goons, and I don’t know, a whole circus of unsettling characters. It’ll be orchestrated by Fleet officers trained for this sort of thing.”
“What sort of thing?” asked Juice.
“I’m getting to that, Dr. Tallette. You’ll be asked to go to your individual crew cabins so these specialists can speak with you privately. They’re tasked with discovering exactly what happened, who did what, the sequence of events, that sort of thing. There’s a whole list they work through.
“They can get the best results by separating you and questioning you individually. They’ll ask you to go through everything forward, then backward, over and over. You’ll feel like criminals. I’m sorry about that.
“But the more we know, the better we can prepare for the next time. If the three of you have different memories about something, we can’t have confidence that it’s reliable intelligence. If you all agree on an item, then it’s logged as fact. Does that make sense?”
“Yes, sir,” said Cheryl, her quick and formal response revealing she was back to the conventional mindset of a Fleet officer.
Deveraux looked at Sid. “You and I have a…” He paused to think of a word. “Let’s call it a unique relationship. I throw you into the sandbox and you build castles for me. As usual, I’m pleased with your work. But this particular affair has gone beyond high visibility. It’s got spotlights shining on it from every direction.”
Sid sat quietly and wai
ted.
“The debrief unit will be asking me questions, too. It’ll be uncomfortable for me to admit I haven’t a clue what you were doing or how you were doing it.”
Sid rescued the secretary. “Perhaps I can give you a thumbnail report. I’ll stick to the basics and present stuff all of us here know for sure.”
“That’s an excellent suggestion,” he said, nodding his head.
Sid stepped through their adventure. “The Alliance was on its shakedown cruise. We used the media to advertise that the new crystal would be on board. Our goal was to provide the Kardish an opportunity to make a move, if that indeed was their intention. Juice and I were watching the Alliance from a scout ship located a short distance away. If and when the Kardish made a play, we were nearby and ready to provide options during a response.”
The secretary interrupted. “Why was Dr. Tallette involved in this?”
“She’s our crystal expert. If we needed to move the crystal, or fix its housing, or whatever, she was the one who could do that for us. Being on the scout made her available but out of harm’s way.”
Deveraux studied Sid’s face. He was in his position because he was smart and understood people. Something bothered him about this detail, but he decided to let it go.
“So,” said Sid, “the Kardish vessel ate the Alliance. It literally opened a huge front hatch, moved forward, and enveloped the ship. We watched from the scout as they bombed Earth and started their trip into deep space with the Alliance inside it. We chased them down in the scout, got on board, and found everyone dead except Jack and Cheryl.
“By the way, I need you and everyone to know that Jack died protecting the three of us and the mission.” He paused to let Deveraux see the serious expression on his face.
“We escaped on this Kardish cargo transport we’re riding in now. We blew up their vessel. The Alliance and its fallen crew were lost in the explosion. And here we are.”
“Let’s stop there,” said Deveraux. “I have enough of the big picture so I don’t sound clueless. Damn, we lost a dozen crew, our new ship, and our new crystal?”
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