Starlight Cavalry (Sentinels Saga Book 4)

by Linn Schwab

  “Is there a reason you didn’t include ECHO 5?”

  “Yes there is. You’re essentially short a destroyer right now, since one of the Cricket’s engines is shot. You’ll need to send her to the Aries shipyard for repairs. Since ECHO 5 has already been to Aries once, it makes sense to have them fly the Cricket there and exchange it for a ship that’s in better condition.”

  “You’re very good at planning things out,” Suzanne said. “It’s easy to see why they made you a Commander.”

  “It’ll come to you as well,” Commander Eldridge assured her. “Just give it some time and everything will start to sink in.” She took a step toward the door then paused. “Oh, yes. There’s one last thing we should probably discuss. While it’s unfortunate that Mr. Elliot managed to escape before were able to question him, I don’t think it would be wise right now to authorize another capture attempt. I’m open to revisiting that idea in the future, but I suggest we set it aside for the time being and stay focused on repelling enemy incursions. Agreed?”

  “Agreed,” Suzanne replied, though she was clearly disappointed.

  Commander Eldridge took her leave and headed straight for the elevator. Janine joined her there as she was waiting for the lift.

  “Are we ready?” Janine asked.

  “There’s nothing more we can do here. Ready or not, I think it’s time for us to move on.”

  “To Solaris, then?”

  “That’s the plan.”

  They rode the lift down to the hangar level, then walked side by side toward the waiting shuttle. As she was crossing the hangar, Commander Eldridge noticed a figure peeking out from the shadows underneath a fighter. Someone had apparently come to see her off. When she slowed to a stop, Janine stopped as well.

  “Is there something wrong?” Janine asked.

  The commander shook her head. “You go on ahead. I’ll be there in a minute.” She then walked slowly toward the fighter until the figure reluctantly stepped into the open. With a nod she issued a nonverbal order directing Mindy to stand at attention. To her surprise she saw a tear roll down the girl’s cheek. Or perhaps it wasn’t much of a surprise after all.

  “Yes, Miss Mclean,” she softly confirmed. “I’m going to miss you as well.”

  With that behind her, she headed for the shuttle, pausing only once to look back from the top of the ramp.

  A door slid open behind Major Richards, but she was so caught up in her work she hardly noticed. On the table in front of her were nine tissue samples from various regions of Genevieve’s body. One by one she was running them through the analyzer, searching for the reason a perfectly healthy Sentinel was now lying in the cold storage room deceased.

  The door slid closed again but no one spoke, leaving the major to guess at who might have just entered. It was rare for anyone to visit the lab. Could it be that someone was looking for her?

  “Commander?” she asked glancing over her shoulder. At first it appeared that there was no one behind her, which was more than a little disconcerting. A tingling swept across the surface of her skin. She spun toward the door to get a better look, and was relieved to discover her silent visitor was just shorter in height than she’d been expecting.

  “Oh,” she said glancing down at Mindy. “You surprised me. People don’t normally come to see me in here. Is there something I can do for you?”

  Mindy stared at the specimen slides on the table. Most likely she had no idea what was on them.

  “I wanted to ask you something, Major.” Her manner suggested she felt somewhat uncertain.

  “Yes?” the major said, inviting her to speak.

  Mindy paused to get her courage up. “Do you think Commander Eldridge was a real person?”

  “Wh–‌what?” the major replied while trying to stifle a chuckle. “Why would you think she isn’t a real person?”

  She could see that Mindy was reluctant to answer, but it was obvious from the way she avoided eye contact that she had a definite reason for asking.

  The major decided to try a different approach. “I seem to recall that you flew to Centaurus on her shuttle. Would you say her shuttle was real enough?”

  “Yes,” Mindy said, though her expression didn’t change.

  “Well, if her shuttle was real, doesn’t that suggest to you that Commander Eldridge was real as well?”

  Though Mindy appeared to be considering the argument, she didn’t yet seem to be entirely convinced.

  “Alright,” the major said, “let me put it to you this way. Have you ever seen someone other than Commander Eldridge who you suspect may not have been a real person?”

  “No,” Mindy said. “But Christy has.”

  “Captain Allison?”

  “Yes.”

  “Alright, then. Who has Christy seen that may not have been real?”

  “I don’t know. I think she might have seen a dead Sentinel.”

  “Dead bodies are still very real, Mindy.”

  “I know. But it wasn’t a body she saw.”

  The major could feel her patience running thin. What Mindy was telling her made no sense at all.

  “And how can you be sure it wasn’t a body?”

  “Because I was standing right next to her.”

  All at once the major began to take her more seriously. Her thoughts shifted to what Miranda had told her about Catherine calling out to Commander Jeffries in the final seconds before her death. Though she had no doubt Commander Eldridge was every bit as real as herself, she was now very much interested in questioning Christy.

  “Mindy, do me a favor,” she said. “Go find Captain Allison, and tell her I’d like to speak with her.”

  She watched Mindy leave, then turned back to her tissue samples. There was evidence of cellular damage in the tissues caused by the forcible extraction of the virus. But only a tiny fraction of the cells were damaged, which was no where near enough that it should have proven fatal. It wasn’t the extraction that killed her, she concluded. She must have died because her body couldn’t function without the virus.

  “You wanted to see me?” Christy asked stepping into the room.

  Major Richards was forced to refocus her thoughts. “Yes,” she said. “I have a few questions for you regarding something it’s been suggested you may have seen. Do you know what I’m referring to?”

  Christy nodded. “Mindy told me what you were going to ask me about.”

  “And what exactly is it that you think you saw?”

  “I saw Wendy. Or something that looked like Wendy.”

  “Wendy Mathers?”

  Christy shrugged. “I didn’t know her full name. I only know she was part of Delia’s crew.”

  “Yes. That would be Wendy Mathers. And where did you see her?”

  “In the corridor outside our quarters.”

  “And no one else saw her?”

  “No. It was the middle of the night. All the other girls were asleep in their cots.”

  “What about Mindy?”

  “Except for Mindy,” Christy corrected herself. “But she said she didn’t see what I saw.”

  “Tell me something, Captain Allison. Do you have any idea why you think you saw Wendy Mathers? Can you think of a reason why you would be the only one to see her?”

  “Yes,” Christy said, lowering her gaze. “I couldn’t sleep. I was in a lot of pain. I think she came to me because I was suffering.”

  This came as a shock to Major Richards. “You were in pain? Why didn’t you say something to me about this?”

  “I tried, but you were too busy to listen to me. It was right after Commander Eldridge arrived.”

  The major thought back to the time in question and vaguely recalled Christy trying to flag her down in the corridor. “I’m very sorry,” she said. “That shouldn’t have happened. And I promise you I won’t let it happen again.

  “You mentioned not being able to sleep. I have to wonder if that may have been a factor in this. Do you think there’s a chance your ey
es were just playing tricks on you?”

  “Maybe,” Christy said. “Robin and I checked the security recordings. Whatever I saw didn’t show up on the camera.”

  “Hmm. That’s very interesting.”

  “Do you think I was just seeing things?”

  Major Richards crossed her arms and leaned back against the table. An idea was beginning to take shape in her mind. “You’re familiar with the virus we carry inside us?”

  “Yes,” Christy said, though she seemed to be puzzled.

  “It’s been with us for so long we don’t give it much thought. Wherever we go, whatever we do, it’s always there with us, just below the surface. It’s in our skin, it’s in our muscles, it’s in all of our organs. And the truth is, we’re still learning things about how it affects us. Since it’s present in our brains and our optic nerves, it’s not beyond the realm of possibility that it could cause us to see things which aren’t really there.”

  “Why would it make me see Wendy though?”

  “There could be any number of reasons for that. Maybe you were so distressed after seeing Wendy’s body, your subconscious was desperate to see her alive. I think there has to be a reason you saw someone who was dead. What do you think? Any ideas?”

  Christy closed her eyes and nodded. “It seemed like she didn’t want me to suffer. I think that’s why I saw her. She wanted me to join her.”

  The major was stunned. Could that really be the answer? Could it be that the virus is averse to suffering? When she considered what Miranda had told her about Catherine, it seemed to align perfectly with what Christy was suggesting. Catherine certainly would have been suffering at the time of her death. And Commander Jeffries would’ve been a comforting presence to her. It made sense, but at the same time it was deeply disturbing to think that a life could be surrendered in this way. Still, at this point it was only a hypothesis.

  “Christy, when you saw this vision of Wendy, just how much discomfort were you in at the time?”

  “It was bad,” Christy said. “I just wanted it to end. If Mindy hadn’t come along when she did, I think I would have ended up accepting Wendy’s offer.”

  COMMANDS 116

  When the Alabama pulled alongside the Melbourne, Commander Ingman noticed there was something wrong. He saw evidence of a powerful detonation which had left a blackened scar on the starboard side. The type of damage inflicted was easily recognizable. The admiral’s flagship had obviously been struck by a torpedo at some point after being swept away by the comet.

  Upon arriving at the rendezvous point, Admiral Sands wasted little time in joining Commander Ingman on the Melbourne. The two of them met up with each other in the hangar as the admiral disembarked from his shuttle.

  “I see Captain Hutchens snagged himself a prize,” the Admiral said, referring to the captured enemy destroyer. “I don’t suppose you managed to recover any survivors from that ship?”

  “Unfortunately, no. Her entire crew perished as a result of the collision. I could show you some images from inside the bridge, but I promise you won’t sleep well after you see them.”

  “Why? Were their deaths particularly gruesome?”

  “No, it’s not that. Let’s just say the crew was a little younger than we were expecting.”

  “I see. Did you have any of the bodies brought on board?”

  “No. To be honest, the very thought of doing that just doesn’t sit right with me. They died with their ship. It’s their final resting place. Like with sailors still entombed at the bottom of the ocean. And besides, they look perfectly human to me. I don’t see any point in dissecting them.”

  “Dissecting them? That’s a rather crude way to put it.”

  “Maybe so, but that’s exactly the way I see it.”

  “Alright,” the admiral said. “Let them rest in peace for now. But whether I decide to have them examined going forward is contingent upon us learning something useful from their ship. Have you been able to determine anything yet?”

  “I can’t speak to that, but I do have something to show you. If you’ll follow me, Admiral.”

  They entered a lift and descended to the lowest level of the ship.

  “We’ve brought a few of the enemy ship’s consoles on board. I have a team trying to piece them back together right now.”

  When they emerged from the lift, they were both surprised by what they saw.

  “You said a few consoles!” the admiral declared as his eyes scanned the setup from one side to the other. “It looks to me like you brought the whole bridge on board.”

  “As much as we could, sir,” Pogo said, immediately stepping forward to greet the senior officers. “We just have a few more wires to connect, and then we can try to power it up.”

  “All at once?” the admiral asked.

  “Yes, sir,” Pogo confirmed. “I’m hoping we can access their entire control system. That way even if we can’t crack the cipher, we might still be able to learn something useful.”

  “Well, that’s certainly ambitious,” the admiral said. “Do you really think you can make this work?”

  “We should find out in just a minute,” Pogo said. He looked around at the crew of technicians in the room. “Are we just about ready?” he called out to them.

  “Just a few more seconds,” one of them replied. The others all watched as he tightened a connecter. “Alright,” he said, flashing a thumbs up at Pogo.

  “Throw the switch, Nelson,” Pogo said.

  Nelson walked to a nearby bank of circuit breakers and pulled down on a large handle to engage the power.

  Nothing happened. The consoles remained dark. Commander Ingman let out a sigh of disappointment.

  “No luck?” the admiral said.

  “Just a minute,” Pogo insisted. “I think we may have overlooked a crucial step in the procedure.” He walked to what appeared to be the captain’s station, and removed a white plastic card from a slot on the console. “Let’s see if this does anything,” he said, then slid the plastic card back into its slot.

  A whirring sound rose up from somewhere in the room, followed quickly by a cascade of beeps and chirping noises. The consoles lit up in spectacular fashion, and a pleasant female voice announced, “CVS Impala, Congo–‌class destroyer, Captain Missy Ferris commanding.”

  The technicians let out a resounding cheer and rushed to hoist Pogo up onto their shoulders. Commander Ingman slapped both of his hands together and thrust a triumphant fist in the air.

  “Nice work, everyone!” the commander said. “This could finally be our ticket to ending the war!”

  Admiral Sands stepped closer to the replicated bridge and studied the layout and design of the consoles. “Lieutenant Amarelli,” he said to Pogo, “congratulations on a truly momentous achievement. Do you feel confident enough to proceed as the head of this project?”

  “Yes, sir, absolutely,” Pogo insisted. “I should have the basics of their command system figured out in no time.”

  The admiral signified his approval with a nod. “Very well, Lieutenant. The bridge is yours.”

  Still upset over Genevieve’s death, Robin wandered into the lounge to share in the misery of her sister squadron. The Hornets were all there, but the room was deathly silent. Their usual banter was noticeably absent. Even Nancy was helpless to lift their spirits. And that was something she normally excelled at. But Nancy was taking it just as hard as the others. The loss of Zoe had left all of them devastated.

  When Jenny saw Robin approaching her, she stood up and led her back out to the corridor. “How about we go for a walk,” she suggested. “It’s too quiet in the lounge right now to have a conversation.”

  The two of them meandered through the corridors together, both struggling to work up the resolve to say something. It was Robin who finally spoke up first.

  “Is your squadron going to be alright?” she asked.

  “It’s always tough to get over a loss,” Jenny said. “But it happens. And it always takes time
to recover.”

  “Is it worse sometimes than others?” Robin asked.

  Jenny bit her lip and nodded. “Zoe was special. Everyone loved her. She and Nancy were the inspirational pillars of my squadron. Now one of them is gone. Everything feels out of balance. And even though my squadron is short two pilots right now, this could keep me from drafting replacements for a while.”

  “I don’t understand,” Robin said. “Why would this keep you from drafting replacements?”

  “Because the squadron needs time to heal. When I bring a new pilot in, I want her to feel welcome right from the start. I think that’s an important part of establishing her relationship with the unit. And when there’s still a lot of grief hanging over from a recent loss, that can make for an awkward situation. A new pilot who isn’t yet familiar with the squadron’s personalities might mistakenly interpret those feelings as resentment, or start to worry that the others aren’t willing to accept her. That wouldn’t be good at all for her morale, and might affect her ability to stay focused in combat.”

  Robin realized Jenny was using this opportunity to pass a little advice on to her. As a captain, she would one day have a squadron of her own, and she would have to deal with much more than just being a pilot. Right now the focus was on learning technical details, which had minimal impact on leadership skills. But at some point she would need to develop a deeper understanding of psychology, and use that knowledge to help make her squadron more cohesive.

  “Did you learn this from someone?” Robin asked.

  “Not exactly,” Jenny explained. “I tend to pick things up from personal experience and observation. I’m sure you will too, when the time comes. You’ll learn how to read and understand your pilots, and nudge things along toward your ultimate goal of making your squadron as strong as it can be.”

  Robin wondered how a squadron could be stronger with fewer pilots, but she decided not to question Jenny’s methods. “I hope it’s as easy as you make it sound,” she said. “Because it sure seems complicated to me.”

  Jenny started to say something, but the station’s intercom cut her off.

  “Second Battalion, report to the spur.”