Valiant (Jurassic War Universe Book 1)

by Kristoff Chimes

  “Presumably, without him being made aware of it?”

  “Precisely.”

  Doc Ransom savored his whiskey in small sips as he considered the implications.

  “You want me to inject him with a bloodstream tracker,” Doc said, “or even a mind bug?”

  “Can you do that?”

  “It’s been done before,” Doc said. “But Dax is an intelligence operative. A good one too, before he screwed up over Defiant.”

  “You heard about that one?”

  “Lieutenant Blok’s indiscretion,” Doc said.

  “How in hell did she find out?”

  “Trained for intelligence,” Doc said. “Just like your man Dax.”

  “Except Blok is loyal to the core.”

  “And not Dax?”

  “Not to me. Not to Valiant.”

  “Got an ax to grind, that one.”

  “Who? Dax?”

  “No, Blok. Watch her, Cap,” Doc said. “She’s burning with ambition.”

  “She’ll get over it,” Hannibal said. “So what’s your answer? Can you help me?”

  Doc availed himself of a crystal decanter of Hannibal’s finest twenty first century Scottish single malt, and poured them both another half glass.

  “Dax’s blood stream is probably spiked with nano-bot sniffers. Those creatures can spot and neutralize anything I can cook up. Maybe you should give the kid a break.”

  “I know what I’d like to break,” Hannibal said. “Admiralty broke that wild stallion. He’s their man now. Through and through.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Oh, come on,” Hannibal scoffed. “Do I have to spell it out?”

  “Apparently so.”

  “Finnean’s got Dax playing his cards so close to his chest, I’m being kept in the dark about the nature of the sabotage.”

  “I thought you said Dax suspects the Vanguards.”

  “But he’s not telling me why,” Hannibal said and felt his knuckles whiten around his glass. “And the reason why is key to knowing what to do next.”

  “You suspect Dax knows more than he’s saying?”

  “Wouldn’t you?” Hannibal said rolling his eyes and taking a deep slug. “In my position?”

  “Maybe,” Doc said and took another slow, measured sip.

  “Maybe?” Hannibal bellowed. “‘Maybe’ costs lives. I need certainty. Dax is a loose cannon. I need to rein him in, or...”

  “Or what?”

  “Throw Dax overboard.”

  “Finnean might disagree,” Doc said

  “Screw Finnean. Screw all those kiss ass politicians at Fleet HQ,” Hannibal said and lapsed into silent brooding. “So what do I do?”

  “There is one approach you might consider,” Doc said. “Maybe take Zen under your wing. Remold him how you need him. Build him back up to how you were at his age. “

  “At his age I’d seen more action than he’s had hot dinners,” Hannibal said and took another slug. “And Finnean wants me to treat him like a war hero.”

  “Oh?”

  Hannibal realized he was about to betray a confidence.

  “This goes no further, right, Doc?”

  “Do I need a mid-air refuel?”

  “Not at the speed you suckle your mother’s milk.”

  “Cross my heart, hope to die.”

  “Dax was operational on Mars during the Lupos occupation.”

  Their eyes met. They slipped into silence. Doc winced, stared at the bottom of his glass and finally took a deep, long slug of the whiskey. Finishing in one.

  “How long did Dax hold out for, Cap?”

  “Apparently a year or so,” Hannibal said. “You know Finnean. Always deliberately vague so nothing comes back to bite him in the ass.”

  “Vague, but no fool,” Doc said. “Your man held out on the Lupos, did he?”

  “He’s not my man,” Hannibal snapped. “And yes... Finnean has no complaints.”

  “Sounds like Finnean is giving your man a second chance,” Doc said.

  “Doc, will you stop calling Dax ‘your man’,” Hannibal said.

  “Your man is like the rest of us, Cap.”

  “How’d you figure that?”

  “We all need to think life owes us a second chance. The heroes amongst us, even more so.”

  Hannibal let another swig of whiskey drown out the thought that Dax is a hero.

  “But here’s the thing, Doc: Dax has no fleet command experience. He can’t possibly imagine what it means to be on the other side of the coin. For him it’s all ‘do this’, ‘do that’, and ‘to hell with the consequences’.”

  “Well there’s your answer, Cap,” Doc said and waved the decanter in the air, spilling a drop. Much to Hannibal’s annoyance.

  “You lost me,” Hannibal said, and liberated his precious decanter from Doc.

  “Dax is a command greenhorn. Probably raw and vulnerable from Mars. Prime for the old war horse Firestorm to roast him into a new man. Besides...”

  “What?” Hannibal said and looked up over the rim of his glass at his half-cut best friend.

  “Never mind,” Doc said.

  Hannibal sighed.

  “Spit it out, Doc.”

  “How long we known each other, Cap?”

  “I’m not going to like what you got to say, am I?”

  “You and I aren’t getting any younger. Can you honestly say you’re as sharp under fire as you were seven years, even five years ago?”

  “I survived the first galactic war, didn’t I?”

  “Survived, yes...”

  “Well, I’m alive. We both are. What else is there to it, Doc?”

  “You call this surviving? But it ain’t living. God knows you need the help of someone of Dax’s caliber around here. A captain may win over his crew on past endeavors, but he only wins the next battle on his wits... and you’re slowing up.”

  “That’s a friend’s council? Or a medical opinion?”

  “Whatever gets you to listen.”

  “Who put this crap into your head anyway?”

  “Who’d you think?”

  Hannibal felt a jolt of anger and realized his glass was empty. The last thing he needed was to go down that particular memory lane. Another drink. Fast!

  “Top up, Doc?”

  “I’ve had enough. So have you.”

  Hannibal shook his head, “Hmm, I’ve got another idea.”

  He tapped his chest insignia and summoned Captain Argyle Valkyrie and Sergeant Van Cleef to his quarters.

  “What gives, Cap?”

  “You’ll see,” Hannibal said and smiled at his decisiveness.

  “Anyway, Cap, what makes you think Dax is here to inform on us to Admiralty?”

  “It’s not Admiralty that concerns me so much as any intelligence Dax passes onto the Vanguard.”

  “But that’s to suggest Finnean is complicit in treachery,” Doc said and took Hannibal’s glass, pouring the whiskey back into the decanter.

  “What in hell, Doc?”

  “Lower ranks don’t need to see their Captain inebriated,” Doc said. “You’ll thank me in the morning.”

  “What I don’t get is this, Doc: We’re no threat to Vanguard operations and yet they stick us with a spy. Why don’t they trust us?”

  “You’re a war hero. A legend to the younger ranks, Hannibal. That makes you a threat to everyone. Including Finnean.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s something they can’t take away from you,” Doc said. “Admiralty and Vanguard share one common denominator.”

  “Which is?”

  “Control. They need it like the air we breathe. If they can’t take something away from you, like your reputation, then they cannot control you. That which they cannot control. They fear.”

  “And you call me the paranoid one, Doc?”

  “You are. But a hero’s reputation is impermeable to his enemy’s attack. Only a hero can destroy his own reputation.”

  Hannibal nodded.
“Maybe they intend to kill the legend so they can sweep away the man?”

  “That’s the theory. But if its certainty you want, then all I offer is pure conjecture. Not an ounce of proof,” Doc said. “Worried they’ll decommission the lot of us?”

  Hannibal shrugged.

  “But why give you the flagship, Cap?”

  “Set me up to knock me down?”

  “The sabotage?” Doc said and shook his head. “Not even you are worth risking their flagship.”

  “Flagship? For now, sure,” said Hannibal. “But Invincible is due to come online any day. And she’s Valiant’s big sister. Our proton engines are nothing compared to their shared Vanguard technology. Instead of three days from Earth to Mars, they can make the voyage in three hours.”

  Doc glanced at family photographs of Hannibal.

  “Cap, heard from Nia?”

  “Not since her mother...” He hesitated. After all this time he found himself unable to say the word.

  “Long time, to be alone, Cap,” Doc said. “Thought about reaching out to Nia?”

  “Thought about nothing else,” Hannibal said. “Then I wake up, stop dreaming and live my life.”

  “Some life, this floating trillion dollar tin can.”

  “Nia made it clear if I can’t bring her mother back from the dead, then I remain dead to her. Why the sudden interest?”

  “I may have some news.”

  “I’m drunk enough to hit you, Doc.”

  “I’m drunk enough to say it anyway.”

  Hannibal looked at his trembling hands and grabbed at the decanter.

  “Spit it out while my hands are occupied...”

  Doc took a deep breath.

  “Nia’s on the Fleet science ship, Nexis. Some kind of hush-hush Admiralty mission near Mars...”

  Hannibal felt his glass slip through his fingers and smash on the floor.

  “Impossible, Doc. Nexis vanished more than a year ago. The President’s son, Alex with it. Rage’s boy as well. I attended the funerals.”

  Doc shook his head. “I know Admiralty supposedly found their bodies in wreckage on Mars. But always raised my suspicions the way Admiralty found enough DNA to identity them, but not enough to hand over to the relatives for an independent autopsy.”

  “How do you know all this?” demanded Hannibal.

  “An old friend from medical school works out of Finnean’s special investigations division.”

  “Doesn’t change the fact that Nexis is a crater on Mars.”

  “That’s what they want you to think, Hannibal. But Nexis is right now in Mars orbit and your daughter is on it.”

  “No, I mean, how do you know this?”

  Doc avoided Hannibal’s gaze.

  “Doc, I can have you thrown in the brig.”

  “For what? Being a damn good friend when everyone else deserted you”

  “I don’t know, but if I let Colonel Rage sniff around your sick-bay, I bet he can find something on you.”

  Doc sighed. “Nia may have sent a Holo-mail.”

  “To you?”

  “Yes me, damn it,” Doc said. “I am her damn God Father. Talked about a visit. Mars is not that far from here... and you need something to look forward to, Cap.”

  “Doesn’t change the immutable fact Mars is strictly out of bounds. Penalty for incursion remains death. No appeals.”

  “At the speeds Valiant can attain, we’d be back almost before we left.”

  “Get this straight, Doc. I take Valiant sniffing around to within a hundred thousand miles of Mars and Admiralty unleashes Invincible on our heels. And that’s not forgetting the Ursu and Lupos warships patrolling the outer perimeter. And say by some miracle we get by them, then we deal with the Vanguard Nightwing fleet. Forget, it.”

  “She’s your only child, damn it, Han,” Doc spat and put his fist into the drinks table, toppling the decanter onto the floor.

  “I’ve heard some mealy mouthed excuses in my time,” Doc shouted, “but never cowardice like this.”

  Hannibal watched the decanter leak his prize vintage spirit into a puddle across the floor. It felt like watching the life’s blood of an old friend oozing away.

  “Cowardice against a Vanguard warship is just plain old good sense, Doc.”

  “To hell with Vanguard Peace Proclamations, Cap. It’s not like you’re going to colonize Mars. We’re talking about a day trip.”

  “Doc, please. I don’t want to discuss this.”

  Doc’s eyes widened and he snorted through flared nostrils like an incensed stallion.

  “Clearly, what I should be discussing is your pathological fear of sending a simple Holo-mail to your only child,” Doc shouted.

  Hannibal resisted the temptation to punch his best friend out of the nearest airlock. “Doc, it’s all too little, too late.”

  “Han, have you considered Nia might be able to forgive you if you can forgive yourself?”

  “Forget it, Doc. The Vanguard and Lupos burned that bridge between Nia and I.”

  Doc nodded. “A toast?”

  Hannibal looked at the floor.

  “Got a straw?” Doc asked.

  “The last great twenty first century contribution to society,” Hannibal said. “I’m taking it out of your pay.”

  “There goes my pension,” Doc said. “Worth every cent if it wakes you up.”

  Hannibal poured a decent rum into two fresh glasses.

  Doc looked at the puddle. “Can’t you get a clean-bot to suck it up and filter it? Good as new.”

  “I’d still know,” Hannibal said solemnly. “Anyway, Rage’s got every last bot reprogrammed and searching for unexploded devices.”

  “Tin Hat’s finally got an army to be proud of,” Doc said and they both laughed.

  “I’ll drink to that,” Hannibal said. “To Tin Hat, the finest marine this side of Saturn.”

  They clinked glasses,

  “Another toast,” Doc said. “To love ones. Lost, but not forgotten.”

  They clinked glasses once more and drank.

  “Itchy feet, Cap? Still searching for that one last crusade to sail off into a supernova?”

  “Better than winking out like a dead star.”

  “I don’t know,” Doc said. “Once you’ve treated the first twenty thousand space sickness cases, the next hundred thousand don’t somehow have the same appeal.”

  They both laughed.

  “You’re getting old, doctor. Thinking of your pension?”

  “What pension?” Doc said glancing at the puddle.

  “Maybe, if you stop gambling... I could put in a good word for a ship transfer to Moon base when it’s rebuilt...”

  “And maybe if you stop drinking, Cap, like I ordered on your last six annual check-ups, and stop shooting your mouth off to every admiral in the seven fleets, then someone might actually listen to you...”

  They both laughed.

  The PEC chimed in. “Captain Argyle Valkyrie and Marine Sergeant Van Cleef, Captain,” it said.

  “Show them in,” Hannibal said and took Doc’s glass. Hiding them both in the drinks cabinet.

  Argyle entered and glanced at the puddle. Hannibal swallowed hard.

  “Captain, sir, you wanted to see me?”

  Van Cleef stood to attention next to Argyle.

  “Yes, Argyle,” Hannibal said. “I’ll come to the point. The new XO. Word is he likes to wonder off the reservation. Your job is to stick to him like Grav-boots. Got it?

  “Sir, yes, sir.”

  “Report to me on everything he does, says and thinks.”

  “Captain, if you don’t mind me asking: why don’t you trust Commander Dax?”

  Hannibal glanced at Doc. He didn’t see any harm in spreading gossip that was probably spreading like wildfire already.

  “Commander Dax is responsible for the deaths of the two thousand five hundred strong crew of Defiant. I’ll not allow him to do the same to Valiant.”

  “And what if Commander
Dax’s actions endanger Valiant, Captain?”

  “Then my standing order is to be executed.”

  “Your standing order, Captain?”

  “Put down Dax like the ship rat he is.”

  Argyle’s eyes widened, but she said nothing.

  “Understood Argyle?”

  “Understood, Captain.”

  Hannibal glanced at the cyborg sergeant. It was hard to read a man who was more metal than flesh. But still all marine, and that’s all that counts. “Van Cleef?”

  “Loud and clear, Captain.”

  Hannibal avoided Doc’s glare.

  “Dismissed,” he said.

  When Argyle and Van Cleef had left, Doc let out a whistle.

  “I got you all wrong, Captain Grint,” Doc said.

  “Come again?”

  “When Rachel died, I stood by you all this time,” Doc said. “Nia was right. You’re not just a coward. You’re dead inside.”

  Hannibal turned away from Doc. “Doc, leave now before I say something we’ll both regret.”

  Hannibal heard his doors slide open with a swish that felt like the only certainty in his life.

  “I’ve forwarded Nia’s Holo-mail address to you,” Doc said. “Use it while you still have someone who cares.”

  The doors closed with a sound that convinced Hannibal he had never felt so alone as now.

  CHAPTER 19 - THE THINGS WE LEAVE UNSAID

  Hannibal sat in the dark. The only light came from the porthole. Five hundred miles below, Earth glowed a soft blue and green as the continental United States came into view. A deep black and burnt red scar slit the continent in half. An indelible mark left over from the galactic war.

  He watched a lightning storm batter the west coast as dawn came around for them. He looked across the horizon to the faint red dot that was Mars. He held out his thumb and rubbed it out.

  He felt it was now or never. “PEC Holo-mail. Record.”

  “Recording,” PEC said softly as a gentle light settled on the room.

  He cleared his throat. “Nia, hi, it’s um, your father.” Obviously! She can see that! Cretin!

  He cleared his throat again. “I’m sure you’re busy, but when you get a chance to pick up this message. I just wanted to say that I--”

  An image flickered in the center of his room. A crackle of white noise whirred around the corner speakers. A young woman materialized before him. Her hair was longer than he remembered. She was still too thin. If anything, a little more gaunt than when he had last seen her at her mother’s funeral.