by J. J. Green
Jas and everyone else on the bridge held their breath as the tiny sparks representing the brave Camaradon pilots neared the Shadow ship. The enemy’s beam was still flickering over the battleship like electricity in a Van de Graff generator. Jas desperately hoped that the fighters would escape the beam, but as the sparks swooped nearer, forks of light split from the ray and took out the leading ships.
The remaining fighters took evasive action, diverting from a direct course toward the Shadow ship and splitting into different flight paths. But no matter what course the pilots took, the beam seemed to sense their presence, sending out long trails of light that split from the central ray.
All around the bridge something between a gasp and a groan sounded. It was a massacre. The pilots were going like lambs to the slaughter. They couldn’t evade the dreadful ray, and they couldn’t get close enough to the Shadow ship to employ their firepower.
There was nothing, nothing anyone could do to protect them or fight back.
Suddenly, the Shadow’s beam broke through the Camaradon’s force field and hit the hull around one of its starjump engines. Jas’ chest constricted. If the ray broke through the hull, the ship would be incapacitated, unable to jump. If it couldn’t escape, it would be destroyed, along with the two thousand or more lives aboard.
Jump, for krat’s sake. Jump. Yet she knew jumping was impossible for the Camaradon now. Jas’ hands were fists.
“What should we do, ma’am?” Trimborn asked. His tone caused Jas to turn to look at him. The man’s usually sanguine expression had turned to fear. He was reading the next steps of the battle the same as she was.
The Camaradon was halfway to being lost. Pacheco had been expending all the ship’s power on pulses and her force field. He couldn’t afford to drop what remained of the force field either, or it would mean immediate annihilation. It would take ages for the ship to build the power to jump, and meanwhile the Shadow’s beam was targeting the very engines that might save it.
Jas wouldn’t fire at the Shadow ship—that only seemed to help it. There was nothing they could do. Jas’ first responsibility was to her crew.
“Kennewell, prepare to jump.”
“Yes, Commander.”
“Jas,” Sayen exclaimed, her face stricken, but there was no time to explain.
It would take several minutes for the Thylacine to generate jump power. When the engines were at maximum capacity, they could remain in that state for several more minutes. At the current state of the battle, that should be long enough to do something to help if the opportunity arose. Though the longer they waited before expending the massive amounts of energy, the more danger they were in of simply exploding.
“Navigator,” Jas said, “plot a course for as far away from here as we can go.”
Sayen’s nodded, understanding that Jas was going to wait until the last possible second before they jumped, requiring the Thylacine’s engines to top out their power.
How long would it take before Pacheco realized the battle was already over?
“Open launch bay doors,” Jas said, then spoke into her comm. “Squadron Leader, maneuver all fighter ships to the back of the launch bay. Prepare to receive survivors.”
“Yes, ma’am.” The man’s tone was relieved.
Trimborn’s sharp intake of breath caused Jas to look up. Light flared blindingly from the holo of the Camaradon. The Shadows’ beam had broken through the hull of one of its jump engines and released the energy Pacheco had been building to jump.
That was it. He had to abandon ship now. Around the holo of the Shadow ship, UA vessels began to wink out of existence, their captains and commanders retreating before the dreadful ray was turned on them.
Come on, Pacheco. Save your crew.
If only the Shadow ship wasn’t scrambling their comms, Jas could have ordered the remaining Camaradon fighters to retreat to the Thylacine. Some were returning to their stricken ship, some were continuing to brave the terrifying ray. Jas wished they’d see sense and give up their hopeless attack.
Pacheco, come on.
“Ready to jump, Commander,” Kennewell said.
Jas’ gaze frantically searched the belly of the Camaradon. Any evacuees needed to leave immediately if they were to reach the Thylacine before she would have to jump. She exhaled. A few specks had appeared. Fighters that Pacheco must have told to turn around when they arrived. They headed in the direction of UA ships, but some were jumping before they could reach them.
Thankfully, some were heading for the Thylacine.
Larger specks appeared. The evac ships. These held one hundred. Some of the crew were getting away, but Jas thought it would take longer than the Camaradon had to launch them all.
As an evac flew from the Camaradon’s belly, it attracted the notice of the Shadow’s beam. A lick of lightning, and one hundred lives were lost. Somewhere on the bridge, a voice cried out.
“Ma’am,” Kennewell said, “the jump engines are becoming unstable.”
Jas didn’t reply. She was biting the edge of her thumb. Blood was running down her hand to her wrist.
“Commander,” Kennewell said.
Jas opened her mouth to answer, but at that moment another evac ship appeared and began to streak toward the Thylacine, one of the few UA ships remaining in the vicinity.
“Squadron Leader,” Jas said into her comm. “An evac’s on its way to us. Tell me the second it arrives.”
Everyone on the bridge was frozen, transfixed as the evac drew swiftly closer.
“Ma’am,” Kennewell said, a note of desperation in her voice.
Jas ignored her.
“Commander,” Trimborn exclaimed, “the Camaradon’s going to blow.”
Jas ignored him too.
The Squadron Leader’s voice sounded from her comm. “Evac ship’s aboard, ma’am. Launch bay doors closed.”
“Jump.”
Chapter Fifteen
Sayen was helping with the survivors from the Camaradon. Most were in shock, but very few were injured. The first evac ship had been filled with the injured. The evac ship that the Shadows’ beam had destroyed.
Twelve fighter pilots had made it to the safety of the Thylacine’s launch bay. Along with the hundred of the Camaradon’s crew who had made it to the evac ship that made one hundred and twelve. One hundred and twelve out of two thousand. Sayen hoped that other evac ships had reached UA vessels before they jumped. Jas had said they would return to the battle scene in an hour to look for survivors. Fighter ships had twenty-hour hours of life support. There was a slim chance that some pilots were still out there, or even an evac ship or two that had escaped the Shadows’ notice.
It was a slim hope, but Sayen clung to it as she walked among the survivors, who were sitting and standing in groups in the launch bay: technicians, engineers, troops, and general maintenance staff. Sayen handed out blankets and energy drinks, which were accepted with shaking hands. Most of the survivors were silent, others were crying.
She didn’t see Pacheco until she was nearly upon him. He was sitting by himself, looking the most shocked of all.
“Admiral,” Sayen said, holding out a drink she’d opened. “Are you okay, sir?”
He looked from the drink to her face for a moment as if not hearing or understanding what she’d said, then recognition dawned in his eyes.
“Navigator Lee,” he replied, his voice choked. “Thank you.” He took the drink. “Is Commander Harrington on the bridge?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Thanks.” He stood up unsteadily and walked away, his hand drooping, spilling his drink in a trail along the floor. Sayen went after him, concerned about his state. He stopped and turned to her. “She made me leave, you know.”
“Sir?” Sayen asked.
“The Fleet Admiral. I wanted to stay. A captain should go down with his ship. I was going to stay. But she made me leave. She told me there was nothing I could have done. It was false intelligence. A trap to take out our best ship
. The Shadows will make their move now. They’ve begun to push back. I have to help coordinate our response.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You do understand? I had to leave. I didn’t want to abandon my ship.”
“Yes, sir. I understand completely.”
The admiral nodded to himself. “Don’t worry. I know the way.” He left the launch bay.
Others of the Thylacine’s crew had also come to the bay to help with the survivors, and to search for family members and loved ones. These latter went from group to group asking for news. Sometimes the news wasn’t what they wanted to hear, such as that the person they were looking for had been injured and on the first evac ship. Crew members were hugging and crying.
Sayen recognized a ginger-haired woman, and she went over to see her.
“Toirien,” she said. “Jas told me you were aboard.”
“Umm...,” Toirien replied, her freckled face turning pink.
“I’m Sayen Lee. From the Galathea.”
“Oh, right. Hi,” Toirien replied, in a tone that said she still didn’t know who this strange woman was.
“Navigator Lee. Do you remember?”
“Oh,” exclaimed Toirien. “I remember. You were the one in stasis in the sick bay while we were trapped on the Shadow planet.”
“Yes, that was me. But I was also the ship’s navigator for the mission.”
Toirien shook her head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t really take any notice of who was who aboard the ship. I mostly kept my head down and got on with my job then. I was fighting my demons.”
“Demons?”
“Never mind.” Toirien held out a hand and they shook. “It’s good to meet you finally. I just wish it was in better circumstances. I came here to look for my daughter. She was an engineer aboard the Camaradon, but someone just told me she was transferred to another ship before the battle. Now I don’t know where she is.”
“I’m sorry,” Sayen said, “I hope she’s okay. I hate to ask you this, but could you help me with something if you have time? I want to find berths for these people.”
“It’d be my pleasure. The engines are ready to roll, and I was starting to feel a little useless. I don’t know how to help these people.”
Sayen found Trimborn, who was inputting the survivors’ details into the ship’s system, and explained what she wanted to do.
“Be my guest,” Trimborn said, handing her an interface. “That was next on my list. While you’re doing that, I can organize people to help the doctor with triage and dispensing sedatives.”
Sayen and Toirien searched the Thylacine’s system for spare berths or other potential sleeping accommodation and assigned the survivors to bunks. They would need somewhere to sleep after the doctor’s sedatives began to take effect. A period of recovery was needed, though what would happen after, Sayen didn’t know.
“Toirien,” she said, “you got to know the commander quite well while you were on the Shadow planet, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, pretty well. I like her, though she’s got a tough side to her.”
“Would you say she’s changed a lot?”
“Krat, yes,” Toirien exclaimed. “I don’t know how she’s still standing, to be honest. Never seen someone look so bad who wasn’t sick in bed. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she was on something.”
“Really?” Sayen asked. “You think the commander might be on drugs?”
“No, that’s not what I said. From the way she acted toward me on the Galathea...Sayen, I have to confess, I used to have a bad drug and alcohol habit, so I know what I’m talking about. What I said was, if I didn’t know better. Jas Harrington hates drugs, and, anyway, she isn’t the type to take them. She’s no thrill seeker. But she looks just as exhausted and ill as if she were on something strong and had been for a long time. I should know. I used to mix with those people. I was one of those people.”
“I think she looks bad too,” Sayen said. “I’m worried about her, Toirien.”
“It must be the stress of command that’s wearing her out.”
“No, I don’t think it’s that. Or at least, that isn’t all of it. Jas used to be a strong person. All that’s gone now. It’s like she’s only just holding on.”
“Well, I don’t want to add to our commander’s troubles...” Toirien looked around and took Sayen’s upper arm, pulling her into a quiet spot in the corridor outside the launch bay. “Talking of drugs, I think we may have a problem aboard this ship.”
“Seriously?”
“As I said, I used to be in that scene, and I see all the signs. There’s myth or something similar doing the rounds.”
“Myth? But it’s so expensive. How could ordinary Unity crew afford it?”
“I’ve no idea, but I swear there’s some intense dealing going on. I think one of my engineers might be an addict, but I’m not sure. I don’t want to formally accuse her. If I’m wrong, that kind of mud sticks.”
Sayen ran a hand through her hair. Myth was the scourge of the galaxy. “Have you said anything to the commander?”
“I didn’t want to burden her when I don’t have any proof.”
“Yeah, she has enough on her plate. Thanks for telling me. I’ll mention it to her if I find the right moment.”
“Okay.” Toirien scanned the interface. “Hey, there’s an empty bunk in this cabin.”
Sayen filed away Toirien’s tip about drugs aboard the ship. It was definitely not a good time to give Jas more to deal with. In an ironic kind of way, Sayen realized, it was good for Jas that the war wasn’t over. She had a suspicion that it was the only thing keeping her friend going right then.
Chapter Sixteen
Pacheco was familiar with the layout of the Thylacine, but he’d gotten lost on his way to the bridge. He suddenly noticed that he was wandering the corridors on the lower decks, which were empty and quiet.
Ever since abandoning the Camaradon, he’d felt light-headed. Everything around him seemed surreal. Images of the battle flashed constantly through his mind, making it hard for him to concentrate on his surroundings and what people said to him. They sounded like they were speaking to him through cotton wool or from a far distance.
He’d never lost a ship before.
He recalled the Camaradon’s jump into the remaining Shadow-controlled sector of the galaxy and the discovery of the gigantic Shadow ship. It sheer size had been impossible to grasp. Pacheco’s first officer had checked and rechecked the scanner readings.
A ship that large had never been built before in the history of the galaxy. Pacheco hadn’t even thought it was possible to build a ship so big.
Pacheco had barely had time to register that it was real and the scanners weren’t lying before it unleashed its onslaught. The Shadow’s terrible ray had tested the strength of the Camaradon’s force field from the very moment it struck.
Pacheco stumbled over his own feet and fell against the corridor wall. He gripped it for support, shaking his head. But he couldn’t shake the memory of the behemoth dominating the holo on the Camaradon’s bridge, or of the fearful faces of his officers when they’d realized what they were up against.
The Unity Alliance had been too confident; too sure of its intelligence. Reports had said that the Shadow flagship was in the vicinity, and the reports had been correct. But they had completely underestimated the size of the craft. It had all been a ruse to trap the Unity Alliance into committing its best ship to an unwinnable battle.
Their final, decisive blow against the Shadows had turned into a crushing defeat.
Pacheco told himself that he’d fought the best he could, but the words sounded empty in his head. His view of the Thylacine’s corridor disappeared and was replaced by the sight of the Camaradon firing pulse after pulse at the Shadow ship, and the awful ray wiping them up as if they were mere annoyances, all the while pouring its dreadful energy at the Camaradon’s force field.
In his mind, the rest of the fleet appeared after their battles once mor
e, called to the Camaradon’s aid. But their pulses were also useless against the enemy. The Shadow ship had never seemed to even weaken. From where the ship derived its power, Pacheco couldn’t understand. He wasn’t a scientist, but he was sure that such amounts of energy were impossible to generate and expend so rapidly.
His legs shook and he dropped to his knees. He slumped against the corridor, his eyes closed, reliving the memory of the last, desperate measures before their inevitable defeat. He’d sent out the fighter ships in an all-but-doomed attempt to break through the Shadow ship’s defenses. He relived the realization that the Camaradon would never generate the energy to jump unless its force field were turned off, and that it would mean a quick, fiery death for everyone aboard.
Yet if they couldn’t jump, the Camaradon was lost.
The Camaradon was lost. Pacheco drew his hand down his face. It came away wet.
The Fleet Admiral had been the one who had given the command to abandon ship. Should it have been him? Had he insisted on fighting too long, when it was clearly hopeless? Had lives been lost needlessly because of him? He would never know. He also didn’t know if it had been his false optimism that had made him keep the Camaradon fighting, thinking that, somehow, the battle would turn in their favor, or if it had been pure arrogance and stubbornness—an unwillingness to believe that he could ever lose.
The flashing emergency lights and klaxon of the final minutes echoed in his mind. He saw the fighter pilots seeking refuge in other UA ships before they jumped. He recalled giving the order to evacuate the sick and injured first, and the horror as the Shadow ship annihilated their vessels. He relived the last desperate, hopeless rush to the evac ships, choosing probable over certain death.
His final memory was of the fleet admiral’s insistence that he leave, telling him that the UA needed him if they were to fight back. Then came the sole moment of peaceful, dreamlike wonder as the fleet admiral had knelt down, and bowed her head. It had dissolved into hundreds of pieces, which floated gently in her helmet.