“Ladies and Gentlemen,” announced Alice over the speaker. “Please put your tray tables and seatbacks in their full upright positions. We will be touching down on the Confederacy carrier, Baal, in less than a minute. Please make sure you collect all of your belongings and take small children and fighter pilots by the hand when exiting the shuttle. Thank you.”
The group chuckled to themselves and several tossed glances down towards Lee. He smiled and waved off the embarrassment. The next few minutes would be stressful enough without trying to stop the nervous laughter. Lee checked his pistol and stun baton one last time and helped the man next to him check his own rifle.
Lee looked back out the window just in time to see the doors to the Baal’s hangar bay pass by. The interior of the bay was a dark gray metal without the pleasant coloring of the Princess’ civilian themed decoration. He noticed a row of Crowned Eagles sitting on the deck as the shuttle began to set down on the landing pad.
The lights in the cabin flickered and then turned off with only a single red light over the door remaining lit. Lee felt the ship shudder as the landing bay doors closed and the engines powered down. As the hangar pressurized, the hissing of air filling the deck slowly increased in volume. The light over the door switched from red to green and the door opened. The usual puff of cold air washed over Lee as he released his restraints.
Moore had already unstrapped himself and walked past Lee and the others to the door, rifle upraised. As the team stood and collected their respective weapons, Moore and one of the other security guards stepped out the door and surveyed the hangar. As Lee stepped to the door with his pistol in hand, he looked at the fighter ships parked along the hangar walls. They were all painted the same golden brown as his own, but had a painted face of a demon with wings on the port wing. Other than the ships, there was no sign of life in the landing bay.
Lee and the security men ushered the team off of the shuttle and assembled the men in two lines. Each man was ordered to take out their stun batons and hold them ready. In the event of alien attack, they were to abandon the sticks and switch to the more deadly weapons. They were then divided into two teams. One would go with Moore and the other with Pearce. Both teams would try to make it to the bridge. Each team synchronized their radios with the other.
Moore’s team marched off towards a door on the port side of the hangar, while Lee and his team approached the closer door to starboard. There was almost two kilometers of space between the hangar and the bridge so both groups needed to move quickly. As they neared the door, Lee recognized a standard airlock control pad on the wall. He signaled for his team to spread out on either side of the hatchway as he pressed the panel to open the door.
Both inner and outer airlock doors opened simultaneously. The corridor outside appeared darkened. Lee motioned for one of the security men to enter the corridor. The man lit the targeting light on the end of his rifle and stepped into the hall. He shone the light down one way and then the other. He nodded to Lee that the hall was clear. Lee signaled to the rest of the team to file into the hall. As he looked back at the shuttle, still sitting on the landing pad, he saw Alice looking back through the canopy window. She waved to him, but looked concerned. He waved back at her and entered through the airlock door, closing it behind him.
The hallway was very long, with the end not visible under the lights of the rifles. Lee gestured to the right, indicating that the group should move forward along the hangar bay wall. He quickened his pace and walked ahead of the group. He had been on several carriers before, but none of this class, and was unsure how far they would need to go to reach a transverse corridor.
After walking cautiously down the corridor for about thirty meters, Lee spotted a door on the opposite bulkhead. The plate on the wall beside it read “Horizontal transit to forward habitat section.” Lee nodded and activated the panel by the plate. The door slid open quietly to reveal a small room occupied by a large, multi-passenger sled resting on a raised platform. The room was lit and the team clicked off their lights as they entered.
“Moore,” Lee signaled to the other team over his helmet radio. “We found a transport sled.” He received only static in reply. “Moore. Can you read me?”
The team stood together and stared at Lee. He tried again to reach the other team with no results. As he looked back at the other people, he made the decision to continue and hope that the other group would find their own transport. He pointed to the transport to indicate that his team should get on. They filed into the sled with the trained officers on the outside. Lee stepped on and went to the rear where the controls were located.
Large ships like the carrier had begun installing rapid transit sleds to get crews and technicians to and from the far ends of the ship quickly. They were not meant for comfort or style. As Lee pressed the panel, the platform raised itself on a magnetic rail. He pushed the throttle forward and the sled raced off down the tunnel. Several of his team almost fell as the transit increased speed rapidly. As they neared the other end, the team braced themselves for deceleration.
They came to a stop in a room exactly like the one they had left. The team stepped off the sled and into the room on wobbly legs. Lee went to the door and opened it. The corridor outside was illuminated, with bare metal walls and doors lining the length. There was still no sign of life, but Lee noticed several places on the walls that looked as if there had been a fire. He gestured for the others to join him and they walked down the hallway and into the living area of the carrier.
They advanced slowly down the hall, each man bracing for any of the doors to open and a threat to emerge. As they approached the center of the corridor, several of the light panels were buzzing and flickering. Lee tried to gauge the distance they had been traveling, but the flickering light confused his eyes and made it difficult for him to think. He shook his head and looked at the plates beside the doors. The fifth one he looked at indicated a lift and he pressed the button.
The lift car was just barely large enough for the team to squeeze in. Lee and a security guard with a rifle stood directly in front of the doors as they closed. He was unnerved by the absence of people on so big a ship, but knew he had a mission to accomplish. He activated the panel and set it to take them to the command deck. The lift raced upwards and forward towards the bridge.
When the lift doors opened again, the deck outside was dark again. The security guard stepped out and reactivated his light. The others followed and cued their lights as well. Lee walked out of the lift quietly, with his pistol and stun baton raised. The waving lights of the rifles made harsh shadows down the hallway as they advanced towards the bridge. Computer access doorways lay open as they passed. The ship seemed deserted, even this close to the bridge. A member of his team, an engineer he thought, ran into one of the rooms. A security guard followed him. A moment later he emerged and approached Lee.
“I recognize the systems,” he said. “I can turn off the jamming equipment. The Princess should be able to send and receive again in a few minutes, but I will need help with decrypting the access code.”
Lee nodded and signaled to two others to join the man. He continued down the hall towards the bridge deck. Once again, the walls looked scorched and blackened. He wondered if there were any crew members left alive to keep the ship going. If the jamming system was automated, that would explain why it was so easy to turn off. He didn’t like the feeling of fear that was sneaking along his nerves, but he knew he had to keep going.
The door to the bridge was closed. Lee saw that the door was also blackened with fire and even seemed warped in the light projecting from the rifles. He swept soot from the access panel by the door and tapped the button.
Blinding light streamed into the corridor. The team fell back under the glare, lowering their weapons and covering their eyes. Lee felt strong hands grab him and toss him into the command center. He tried to grip his pistol as he was slammed against a computer station, but it fell from his hand. He raised his stun ba
ton at the unknown attacker, but the man swatted the glowing stick away and rammed his forearm up against Lee’s neck.
The other members of his team were being hauled into the bridge by men in Confederacy uniforms. One of the security men was being dragged, unconscious or worse. He was dropped onto the deck in heap. The pressure on Lee’s neck was steady and he stopped struggling.
“You are wearing the uniform of a Confederacy pilot,” said a voice from above Lee’s head. “Where did you get it?”
Lee tried to croak out an answer, but the soldier only pressed harder. Lee began to see spots as his vision began to narrow.
“Let him breathe, Sergeant Kelly,” ordered the voice from above.
Oxygen flowed back into Lee’s starved lungs. He gasped as the pressure was released from his neck. He wanted to rub his throat, but the soldier still held one arm against the wall and the other was pinned by his assailant’s body to the wall.
“Now,” repeated the voice. “Where did you get that uniform?”
“The only place they give them out,” he croaked. “The Pilot Academy on Europa station.”
Lee heard nothing for several long moments. Then footsteps echoed from the upper command deck. The man who owned the voice from above seemed to be coming down to see him. When the man came into sight, Lee could see he was wearing the uniform of an admiral in the Confederate Naval Forces.
“What is your name, Commander?” the older man asked, noting the rank pins at Lee’s throat.
“Commander Lee Pearce,” he said. “I assume you are Admiral Hathaway.”
The man seemed surprised to hear his name. He studied Lee’s face and uniform closely. Lee could not decide whether the man was furious or confused.
“Commander,” the admiral replied. “I am sorry, but I am going to have to place you and your team under arrest. You can release him, Sergeant.”
The pressure on Lee’s chest and body relented and he took a deep gasping breath. His arm had grown numb between the wall and the soldier’s body. He rubbed his wrists to restore the circulation.
“Collect their weapons,” said the admiral, mounting the ramp back to the command deck. “Take them to the bridge.”
“I’d really rather you didn’t,” a voice announced from the other side of the command pit. The sound of charging rifles drifted over the pit and down to Lee.
Two men from the other team rounded the wall and pointed their weapons at the soldiers holding Lee’s team. The military men stepped back, ready to defend themselves. From above, Lee saw Henry Moore come to the side of the deck and look down.
“Sorry we’re late,” said the security guard. “That walk was a bitch.”
10
Two Years ago
The promenade level of the Terran Princess had been designed to make passengers feel as if they were on already on holiday. High-end shops and stores catered to every desire at slightly elevated prices, and smaller kiosks tried to tempt passersby with the latest gadgets and technology. In the center, there was a magnificent food court area to feed every conceivable Earth taste.
There would normally be close to a thousand people here, wandering around spending Confederacy credits on clothing that they would never wear again, or tacky trinkets to give to their unlucky relatives who had stayed home. At the height of the afternoon, the restaurants and food court stalls were supposed to be buzzing with business, fragrant smells mingling on the ground level.
Henry Moore pulled down on his gray uniform jacket and looked at the near deserted promenade and wondered at the events of the last year. As he looked up at the projected blue sky and blazing yellow sun, he also noticed the closed windows of empty staterooms that extended six stories above the promenade, and shook his head. As second in command of security on the Princess, he had never expected to be patrolling an empty food court and shuttered stores.
Almost a year ago, they had been sailing through M-space with close to nine thousand people on board. Now, more than half of the crew and passengers had left, heading off for what illusory safety they could find. The remainder of the people had become despondent as they lost hope of ever returning home to Earth. The Ch’Tauk invasion of the Terran Confederacy and Earth had devastated the hearts of the vacationers, as well as those of the career sailors who stayed.
As he passed the remaining open restaurant, now a cafeteria serving up the ship’s minimal supplies to the refugees on board, he saw a woman dressed in what had probably once been a very expensive dress holding a tray. He had been amused the first time he had seen the line for food at the cafeteria. He had needed to break up a fight between two of the passengers when one of them had believed that he and his family, traveling first-class, should be served ahead of the economy passengers. Now the line had become a great equalizer, as rich and poor alike stood in lines to receive what the ship had left to offer.
Henry realized that the very concept of wealth had ceased to mean anything on board the luxury liner. With the fall of the Confederacy, those who had grown large fortunes and invested in the strength of Earth had lost everything. Those who had saved to afford the cruise were now simply thankful to be alive. The dichotomy reminded him of his own situation.
He and his wife had met years ago when he was a dashing young soldier in the army. They had fallen in love against the wishes of her family and married at the army chapel in Mumbai. Her parents were wealthy and powerful in the world medical community, whereas he had no living parents and nothing to his name but his lieutenants’ bars. The family had cut them off from their wealth entirely, trying to teach the young couple a lesson.
At first, the adventure of trying to make it without the help of her family was exciting and only increased their passion for each other. He went off to fight in a minor skirmish on Gliese, while Priya stayed home trying to make it as a junior nurse at the army base. When he returned, their love for each other burned hot for a while, but then the daily grind of living began to wear on them. Two more wars later and they were nearly separated when a vacation on the Princess’ sister ship had produced their first child, Ananja.
His little Annie had made their family complete, and made the couple love each other again. Priya had convinced him to resign his commission and try civilian life so that he could stay closer to home. Her father had reappeared in their life then, happy to play with his granddaughter and offering a job to Henry. The job paid better than the army and he’d accepted the offer immediately. However, Priya’s father had a mean streak and a foul sense of humor. Henry’s service to the Terran Princess would keep him away more often than army service ever did.
Five years later, he finally made Priya an offer. She and Annie would come on board the Terran Princess for a cruise with him to try to reconnect to each other. If the two-week vacation did not help them, then he would either resign or they would separate. Priya had accepted the deal without much hope for them, and he had to admit to himself that he had not expected much of the trip.
The invasion of Earth had thrown all of their plans into disarray. Henry had come home many times in the last year to find his wife crying while his daughter was left to wander the ship. She would repeat her parents’ names over and over in her sleep and refuse to eat her meals. He had finally forced her to see Doctor Reeves in the infirmary for her depression. After he prescribed a mood enhancer, she had simply stopped being the woman he had fallen in love with. She would stare out the projected window in his cabin, only commenting occasionally that the stars were illusions.
They were supposed to meet later today for a family meal together near the children’s playground on deck ten. Priya had seemed happy when he had suggested it and he hoped that seeing their daughter laugh and play with the few other children on board might start to bring her around.
“Moore,” a voice broke through his daydream. “What is your location?”
“I’m on the promenade,” Henry said, tapping the radio link on his collar. “Port exits three.”
“We’ve got
trouble by the forward airlock on deck ten,” said the voice of the security chief. “Someone hacked the door and opened the inner airlock.”
A thrill of panic raced through the security guard. There had been several acts of sabotage on the ship lately. Most of them had been harmless, doors unlocked and projection walls turned on or off randomly. This was the first time he was aware of a breach that could actually damage the ship.
“I’m on it,” he said into his radio, turning toward the nearest lift and increasing his speed. “Is there anyone else available?”
“Negative, Henry,” replied his chief. “We’re spread pretty thin. Just run over there and make sure nobody opens that door.”
Henry acknowledged the order and stepped into the lift. As he travelled to deck ten, he tried to figure who might be trying to sabotage the ship. He knew it had to be someone familiar with the ship’s computer, engineering systems, and security codes. That kind of clearance wasn’t shared by many on the ship, but there was another option.
A month after the invasion, a fighter pilot had come on board, nearly starved and talking of the destruction of the Terran fleet. He held the rank of commander, but wouldn’t say which ship he had been a part of or how he had come to be on the Princess. The captain trusted him, but Henry was not as sure about the man. He made a note to ask the security chief to set up a meeting with the man to get some answers.
The lift stopped and he stepped out into the corridor leading to the airlock. It was a passenger deck and this airlock was mainly used for debarkation. He was alarmed at the sight of a crowd that had gathered around the airlock and had to push aside a few passengers to get to the site.
For a moment, he could not understand what he was seeing. He knew that the airlock door had been unlocked by someone on the ship, but he hadn’t expected to see people standing inside the compartment and the inner door closed and locked. As he approached the door, he realized that there were over twenty people inside the airlock, but none of them seemed panicked.
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