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Childhoods Lost (Sentinels Saga Book 2)

Page 28

by Linn Schwab


  “So he can spread the virus among them for us. Think about it, Major. If it spreads through their fleet before it’s detected, it could have a tremendous impact on their forces. It might even force them to abandon the war.”

  The major shook her head in disapproval. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this,” she said. “We know there are women on some of their ships. We’ve seen their bodies in some of the wreckage. What if one of them becomes infected and carries the virus all the way back to Earth? There are billions of people on Earth, Commander. Billions! The amount of suffering that would cause would be unimaginable! Do you really want to be responsible for that?”

  “Why not? They used it on us. Why shouldn’t we turn it back on them? You said you wanted to win the war, Major. This could actually make that a possibility.”

  “Look,” Major Richards said, “I agree that what they did to us was wrong. And it’s difficult not to despise them for it. But can we really blame their entire population for the virus when even their pilots don’t seem to be aware of its existence? And besides … like it or not, Commander Eldridge, we need them if we’re ever going to make a future for ourselves. There are already no men left on Valhalla. If all the men on Earth die out, the human race as we know it is done. We’ll forever be dependent on artificial reproduction.”

  “Reproduction? You mean as in one of us giving birth to an Earthling child? Major, have you even bothered to consider the fact that we don’t even know if we can give birth? We weren’t exactly born ourselves, you know. The cycle may be broken for us already.”

  “But we don’t know that for sure,” the Major argued.

  “No, you’re right. We don’t know for sure. But we also can’t really be certain that they don’t have an effective vaccine for this virus. And that’s something you might want to keep in mind, Major, if you really care what happens to this pilot. Because if they do possess a vaccine, they may be able to save his life. If he stays here, he’ll die for sure. If we can get him back to his fleet, he might still have a chance to survive. What do you say, Major. Is that reason enough to change your mind?”

  Major Richards gazed down at the floor while she ran through all of the concerns in her head. Just the thought of trying to use Dave in such a manner was enough to make her feel ill inside. She was also cognizant of the fact that the entire future of the human race might very well hinge on this one decision. If it turned out that there was no vaccine for the virus, leaking it back to Earth could prove to be disastrous. On the other hand, it could also mean the end of the Earthling fleet, and the suffering they were inflicting on her people. But if they did have access to a vaccine, this was Dave’s best and only chance of survival. And it was her only chance of sharing a future with him — the brief dream that had just been ripped away from her. But even that isn’t very likely, she realized. Once he finds out I’ve tricked him like this, there’s no way he’ll ever be able to forgive me. Either way, I’ll never have a future with him. I need to base my decision on what’s best for the Sentinels.

  “Alright, Commander,” she finally relented. “I’ll go along with you on this. But how are we going to get him back to his fleet? And what are we going to tell him so he won’t become suspicious?”

  “That’s easy enough,” the commander said. “We’ll give him a message to deliver to them for us. We’ll tell him it’s an offer to negotiate with them, and that it needs to be delivered to someone of importance. As for how we’re going to get him there...” She walked over to the room’s intercom panel and put a call through to Genevieve.

  “Yes, Commander Eldridge,” Genevieve responded.

  “Miss Winston,” the commander said, “I need to know if that captured fighter is still capable of flying.”

  “There’s no way. Both of its engines are totally shot.”

  “Is there any chance your team could repair them?”

  “No, they’d have to be replaced. I suppose if you really want this plane to fly, we could replace them with the engines out of one of our planes.”

  “Could you really make that work?”

  “Absolutely. Our engines are identical to theirs, other than a slight update they’ve made to the thruster ports. It’s just a matter of bolting them in. We could probably have it done in a day or so.”

  “Good. I need you to get on that right away. Let me know as soon as it’s ready to go.” She switched the intercom off and looked at Major Richards. “We’ll talk about what we're going to tell him later on. Right now, I need to get back to reassembling those guns.”

  Major Richards wondered what she should tell Dave while they were waiting to put the final touches on their plan. She realized it wouldn’t be easy for her, now that she knew he was likely to die. It was going to be a challenge to keep her emotions concealed. She doubted it would even be possible for her. I should probably start by bringing him some lunch, she decided. Maybe I can at least accomplish that without crying.

  METTLE 067

  After dropping Commander Eldridge off at Volaris, the Terrapin had returned to the edge of Pangea to continue watching for enemy activity. As her crew scanned the area around them for threats, a single blip appeared on the radar screen. An object was heading in their direction, skirting the outer edge of Sentinel controlled space.

  “What have we got?” Carly asked, rushing over to the systems console.

  “Could be a ship,” Teresa said. “It’s not really moving all that fast, though. Whatever it is, it’s not in a hurry to get anywhere.”

  “I have it on the scope,” Breanna said. She zoomed the camera to full magnification.

  Carly looked up at the screen and immediately recognized the ship’s design. “Heavy cruiser,” she said. “Pretty old from the looks of her. Can’t even tell if she was ours or theirs.” The ship’s hull tumbled end over end as it drifted. Its nose had somehow been sheared off and one of its forward turrets was missing.

  “Dead,” Teresa said, checking her instruments. “There are no heat sources anywhere on board.”

  “Yeah, it’s just a derelict,” Carly determined. “I don’t think it poses any threat.” She turned to her radio operator. “Ellen, put a call through to Volaris. Let them know this thing is coming so they don’t panic when it shows up on their scanners.”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  * * * *

  Ariel longed for some conversation, but neither of her companions seemed interested in talking. At the console to her left, Lindsey appeared to be struggling valiantly to keep her eyes from drifting shut. To her right, Veronica was curled up in her chair with her knees pulled up against her chest and a look of sorrow and dejection on her face.

  Concerned by Veronica’s expression, Ariel was determined to see if she could learn what was bothering her. She knew the lieutenant had recently spoken with the prisoner, and surmised that he must’ve said something to upset her. “What did he tell you?” she asked. “Did he say they’re coming to kill us?”

  “Nothing,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t wanna talk about it.” She gazed at the console display in front of her, but it was obvious she wasn’t really concentrating it. Her eyes had an empty, faraway look, and didn’t really seem to be focused on anything.

  Still needing to acquaint herself with the equipment, Ariel tried to make use of her time by flipping through the station’s security cameras. She could see Commander Eldridge up in the gun bay, giving instructions to the Second Battalion as they worked on reassembling the station’s guns. Janine was wandering through one of the corridors, staring down at the screen of an Archive Interface. Robin was sitting alone in the cafeteria, with most of her lunch rations still uneaten. Most of the technicians were busy in the hangar, working on the captured enemy fighter. That seems kind of strange, she thought. Why put so much effort into fixing his fighter when some of our own planes still need to be repaired?

  A voice suddenly broke in over the intercom. “Volaris, come in please.”

  Lindsey sat up an
d reached for the switch. “Volaris, here,” she answered.

  “Volaris, this is the Terrapin. I’ve been instructed by my captain to inform you that a derelict cruiser is drifting your way. It should be appearing on your scanners soon. We checked it out and confirmed it’s just a wreck.”

  “Thank you, Terrapin. I think I see it on the radar now. Volaris, out.” Lindsey turned to Veronica. “Must be the rest of that heavy cruiser. Looks like Virginia’s hunch was right. It’s just an old wreck that’s breaking apart.”

  “Maybe,” Veronica said, still harboring suspicions about the situation. “I guess we’re gonna find out soon enough. Let me know when it’s in range of our cameras.”

  * * * *

  After resting on the infirmary cot for a while, Virginia forced herself to sit up. The dizziness from the anesthetic was beginning to fade, but her left arm still felt numb and a little sluggish. She looked at the bed across from her and noticed Dave was sitting up as well.

  “Does this mean you’re leaving me?” he asked, watching as she made an attempt to test her balance.

  “Does it really matter?” she said. She teetered on the edge of her cot for a moment and decided she wasn’t yet ready to stand up.

  “Well, yes. It matters to me, anyway. Or at least it matters to my sense of curiosity. I was hoping you might be willing to tell me what made you decide to bring me here.”

  Virginia reached up and rubbed her temples. “You know,” she said, “I wasn’t even sure about that myself. It was just something that came to me on a whim. It’s difficult for me to explain, really. More of a feeling than a conscious decision. Now that I’ve had some time to think it over, though, I think I finally know the answer. This may sound crazy or senseless to you, but I think I brought you here so I could ask you ‘Why.’” She stared at him now with a look of expectation, as if awaiting an answer from him.

  Dave had several thoughts on what the ‘Why’ might pertain to, but he was certain he didn’t have an answer for any of them. “I don’t think it sounds crazy or senseless at all,” he said. “In fact, I think both of us may be asking the same question. And it doesn’t seem to be getting us anywhere, does it? Maybe it’s time for us to stop asking ‘Why,’ and start asking a different question instead. ‘How.’ As in, ‘How are we going to end this war before a lot more people end up getting killed.’ Let’s not waste this opportunity, Virginia. In this instance, I think we can probably agree that ‘How’ is far more important than ‘Why.’”

  Virginia slouched and lowered her head in a manner that suggested a feeling of hopelessness. “Is there any chance your people will just go home and leave us alone?”

  “I’m afraid it’s not very likely. That’s not how wars of this magnitude are typically resolved back on Earth. I’m sure they’ll insist on a formal surrender. It’s the only outcome they’ll ever be satisfied with. What would it take to convince your people to accept those terms, just in the interest of stopping the bloodshed?”

  Even as the question passed his lips, he realized he already knew the answer. He could see it in Virginia’s eyes. He’d seen it in Chrissy’s eyes as well, and heard the defiance in her voice when she’d answered his question about her parents. These people are never going to surrender, he realized. They’’ll fight until every last one of them is dead. And Earth has no intention of backing down either. That doesn’t bode well for either side. Someone is going to have to make a gesture of peace, or this planet is ultimately going to be destroyed.

  * * * *

  “It’s approaching visual range now,” Lindsey said. The blip on her radar screen was growing closer.

  Veronica trained an exterior camera on the wreck and increased the magnification of the image. “It’s definitely a heavy cruiser,” she said. “Or at least what’s left of one, anyway.”

  Lindsey glanced at the camera image. “It’s missing the nose and one of its forward turrets. It has to be the same ship those other pieces came from. I wonder how long it’s been drifting around out there, scattering pieces of itself into space.”

  While the other two stared at the magnified image, Ariel looked out through the bank of windows and focused on the wreck with her naked eyes. She watched in concern as it tumbled closer and anxiously pulled herself to her feet. “Um…” she said, nervously pointing her finger toward the window, “is that...”

  Veronica looked up from the screen now and gasped in horror when she realized what was happening. The ship’s hull was following a different trajectory than the pieces that had drifted by earlier. “It’s gonna hit us!” she screamed. “Lindsey! Sound the collision alert!”

  * * * *

  Alarms began screaming in Dave’s ears. A strobe light on the wall flashed a warning signal at him. “What’s going on?” he asked Virginia. “Is the station coming under attack?”

  Concentrating on the alarm’s repetitive pattern, Virginia attempted to decipher the signal. Four audible beats followed by two silent counts. “Collision alert!” she yelled. “Something’s gonna crash into us!” She turned her eyes toward the infirmary door and heard the slam as it sealed off the room. The station’s hatches were being closed to isolate all of its interior compartments.

  * * * *

  Left by herself in the cafeteria, Robin counted the alarm pulses and tried to remember the emergency drills. Collision alert! she determined. Find a safe spot to take cover! After hastily considering her options, she dropped to the floor and crawled beneath her table, and wrapped her arms and legs around the base of its pedestal. She looked at each of the room’s exits. Only two of the three sets of doors were sliding shut. The third set appeared to be jammed in their tracks, leaving the cafeteria exposed to a primary corridor. Oh no! she panicked. The room isn’t sealed! If the corridor is breached, I’m in big trouble! She realized she might have only seconds remaining before it was too late to change her decision. If she could make it to the control panel on the wall, there was at least a possibility that she could get the doors to close and seal. But that was a risky thing to attempt since there was nothing close by for her to hold on to. She decided her best course of action right now was to hang on tight to the base of her table and just hope that the corridor walls survived the impact.

  * * * *

  The inner chambers of a once proud warship rang silent with a ghostly sense of finality. For decades, she had drifted on a wandering course through a solar system far from her world of origin. Her hull bore the scars of many battles and served as a tomb for her valiant crew. Their memories of her had long since faded into history. Her remains would soon be gone as well, leaving no record of her crew’s heroic struggle to prevent her from succumbing to her battle damage. Their tales of courage and individual sacrifice were destined to remain forever untold. Her long silent journey was coming to an end, but there was no one left alive on board to count off the final seconds to impact.

  With a force that was difficult to estimate in terms of ordinance, the Sevastopol slammed against the side of Volaris, crumpling and shattering into thousands of pieces, and scattering itself across the station’s surface. The impact pushed in sections of the hull and left it pockmarked with open seams and punctures. Plumes of air shot out through the rended plating until the breached compartments were emptied of atmosphere. The station recoiled from the force of the collision and shuddered as vibrations coursed through its structure.

  * * * *

  The jolt from the impact was nearly strong enough to rip Robin away from the base of her table. She heard a loud bang followed by the terrifying din of armored plates scraping against metal trusses. She listened for the sound of escaping atmosphere, but the air in her proximity remained calm and still, leading her to believe she was safe for the moment. The cafeteria’s lights flickered and briefly went out, then returned to full brightness a few seconds later. Through it all, the alarm continued to sound, suggesting that at least some of the station’s systems remained active. Seconds after the impact’s effects subsided, th
e alert level changed to a different status. The threat of collision was no longer a concern. The main focus now was on damage control. Someone changed the alarm, Robin told herself. There must be someone still alive in the control room!

  Desperate to find out what was happening, she pulled herself out from under the table and dashed into the corridor through the open set of doors. The elevator shafts were all closed and sealed, forcing her to run to the nearest rung ladder. Her muscles were still considerably weaker than usual, but the adrenaline flowing through her bloodstream gave her the strength she needed to climb. After straining to pull herself up the wall, she stepped off the ladder and staggered to the control room.

  Veronica and Lindsey were frantically working to call up information on their consoles. Ariel was sitting in between them, looking lost and helpless and completely overwhelmed.

  “What happened?” Robin asked.

  Veronica glanced over her shoulder to see who was speaking. “A derelict ship crashed into us,” she explained.

  “Is everyone alright?”

  “We don’t know yet. Some of the station’s systems are down, and some of them are severely compromised. The outer hull has been breached in several locations, but we don’t know exactly which areas are affected.”

  “What about the gun bays?” Robin pleaded, fearing for her battalion’s safety.

  “I can’t tell. That part of the station is completely cut off. The cameras up there aren’t working and the intercom is dead. We’ll have to wait for a rescue crew to check it out. Ariel,” she said, pointing to the monitors, “keep flipping through the cameras that are still functioning and see if you can locate Major Richards.”

  * * * *

  The Mona Lisa started creeping forward again while her captain kept his eyes on the enemy carrier. The fighters had been out of sight long enough now that he felt it was reasonably safe to proceed. “That’s it,” he coached the helm operator, “nice and easy. We don’t want to make any sudden movements that might attract that carrier’s attention. They may still have a few fighters on board, to deal with unexpected visitors like ourselves.” He walked to the navigations station and asked, “How long before we reach the edge of this field?”

 

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