There was no flash, no thump. Just a sudden, overwhelming pull that tried to rip Katja from her seat. Outside, the stars dropped below the nose as Rapier was pulled off course, high and to starboard. Then the ship started to shudder. She looked up through the windows above, and felt her jaw drop.
The Centauri ships were all moving, converging on a single point in space. And she knew their forms well enough to tell that every one of them was pointed away from their direction of travel. She could even see the glow of their engines on full burn as they slowly but surely drifted together. The frigates were moving faster than the battle cruiser, but even as she watched its long hull seemed to grow longer.
Then pieces started to break off its stern and fall away with ever-increasing speed. Within seconds the cruiser was torn apart and sucked down into a growing blackness. The closer frigates went next, while the more distant ones fought a losing battle to break free.
On her display all the red symbols were converging and disappearing. But the point of their convergence wasn’t moving farther away from the center—it was slowly getting closer.
Rapier was being pulled in.
Jack knew it too, and pushed his stick forward to point the nose away from the singularity. The view of the stars ahead shifted, but not by much. The shuddering intensified.
“I can’t break free!” he shouted.
“We have to reduce mass,” Thomas said. He scanned his console, stabbing at the weapons controls.
Katja saw the dazzling flashes of the four morningstar missiles. They burned ahead of Rapier for a few seconds and then, from right to left, each was pulled off course and into an ever-increasing dive toward the singularity.
Rapier inched further up in her decaying orbit, but it wasn’t enough.
Thomas activated the ship-wide broadcast.
“This is the captain,” he said. “Emergency atmosphere dump!” This was normally a tactic for fighting out-of-control fires. But now, the considerable volume of gas that made up Rapier’s air was blasted into space, reducing her mass by a noticeable percentage.
She nosed farther toward freedom.
Thomas typed a command into his console. The ship’s projected course extended on the 3-D display. It was a highly curved route, but it slowly cleared the torpedo blast point.
“Steady as she goes, Pilot,” he said. “I think we’re gonna make it.”
The EF ships, well clear of the implosion, were moving at full speed for the jump gate. Katja saw that Rapier’s projected path would actually pass wide of the jump gate, and she pointed this out to Thomas.
“I want to make sure we’re clear of this thing’s gravitational pull,” he said. “We can always do an orbit and dive for the jump gate when we’ve better assessed the situation. Hey, Jack, how long does this tenebral implosion last? Are we talking minutes or hours?”
Jack didn’t look back, leaning on his flight stick to keep it on maximum climb.
“I was expecting a few seconds,” he admitted. “And I was expecting the Centauris to still be here!”
Thomas glanced at Katja through his faceplate, concern clouding his features. If he expected her to say something, however, she had no idea what. She was just fighting to keep her jaw shut, and her eyes from looking like saucers.
Then she noticed that the symbol for the jump gate was flashing. She was pretty sure jump gate symbols never flashed.
“Hey Jack, don’t jump gates use dark energy like our torpedo just did?”
He didn’t seem too thrilled by the question. “Uhh, yeah! The gates use dark energy to open up. Why?”
“I’m no expert, but I think our jump gate might be closing down.”
Jack checked his hunt controls.
“What the—? That’s not right!”
His words didn’t fill her with confidence. She noticed that the EF ships were almost at the gate, neither forming into the usual column for gate passage nor slowing down.
Thomas picked up on it immediately. He activated the ship-to-ship command circuit. “Normandy, this is Rapier! Confirm status of jump gate!”
The response came several moments later, heavy with Doppler distortion. “This is Normandy! The jump gate is becoming unstable! We’re jumping now!”
Seconds later, the first blue symbol—Normandy herself—disappeared. The rest of the fleet followed quickly behind—all except for one. A female voice sounded on the warped circuit.
“Rapier, this is Kristiansand. Estimate forty seconds until jump gate collapse. State your ETA my position.”
Thomas’s fingers flew over his console. The projected course on the 3-D display shifted to intersect the flashing gate symbol.
“Pilot, steer computed course!”
Jack eased his stick to starboard slightly. The projected course wobbled as he struggled to walk the tight rope, fighting between the ship’s vector and the singularity’s pull.
“Kristiansand, Rapier. My ETA thirty seconds.”
Katja felt a wave of relief, then realized that at least ten seconds must have passed since Kristiansand had sent her signal.
“Rapier, if you can’t make it, abort your attempt and I will stay here with you.”
Thomas glanced at Katja as he keyed the circuit.
“Kristiansand, this is Rapier. Thanks, but I have time to spare. Request you make your jump and clear the path for me.”
“Rapier, I assess that you will not make my position before jump gate collapse. Abort your run and regroup with me.”
Jack grunted as he fought the controls. The projected course altered violently, then steadied back on target.
Fifteen seconds.
“This is Rapier, negative. Your readings are false due to gravimetric interference. Jump now and clear a path on the other side.” Thomas paused, then added: “Jack Mallory will get me home!”
“Hey,” Jack said, “no pressure!”
Kristiansand’s charcoal hull was growing visible against the stars, and Katja watched as the destroyer turned away and vanished in a spacetime ripple.
Five seconds.
Jump gates, for all their theoretical majesty and importance to the colonial economy, were actually very hard to spot in real life. Katja grabbed onto her armrests and held her breath. She looked for some kind of marker, some sign that they were about to travel more than four light years in an instant.
She saw a sudden ripple in the starscape.
Then blinding light.
Then nothing.
60
It was only Jack’s second time to Normandy’s star lounge, yet it seemed very familiar to him. Probably because of all those hours in his rack he’d spent dreaming about meeting Breeze here.
He smiled to himself at that.
“What’s so funny, Jack?” Katja asked. She was seated ramrod straight in a back brace, facing him in her own comfy chair, a beer cradled in her hands.
He shrugged and slouched back, dropping his feet on the low table between them and gazing out through the huge window.
“Nothing.”
“Jack thinks air is funny,” Thomas said from his chair between them, facing directly at the window. “It doesn’t take much to get him to smile.”
“I guess smiling’s pretty easy these days. Gravity abounds, beer is plentiful, and I don’t actually have a job to do. Oh, and not being at war anymore sort of lifts my spirits.”
“Well, enjoy it while it lasts—it’s just a cease-fire.”
He looked at Thomas and smiled. “Well, if that cease-fire doesn’t hold,” he said in his most heroic voice, “don’t you worry, because Jack Mallory will get you home!”
Katja snickered behind her beer.
“All right, all right,” Thomas said. “Let it go, you guys. I had to say something to get Kristiansand out of our way. Avernell thinks you’re the best ever.”
Jack shrugged modestly, gazing out the window again. “Meh.”
His eyes were drawn to the massive form of Astral Base Five looming several kilomet
ers off Normandy’s beam—the guardian of the jump gates and Terra’s in-your-face presence at this, the nexus of interstellar travel. Although that might be changing, now that the jump gate to Centauria had collapsed and the network of secret Centauri gates had been revealed in all the major systems.
Looking out at the blast marks scarring the base’s kilometer-long hull and the wreckage of Terran ships still littering the area, Jack had a feeling an awful lot was about to change.
The Centauri fleet that had besieged Astral Base Five—and held hostage its thousands of people as insurance against a full Terran counterattack—had fled, scattering through the other jump gates to colonies sympathetic to the cause. It seemed that the colonies had been colluding for some time, and had just been waiting for an excuse to lash out at Terra.
But now Terra had a new weapon with which to keep the peace, and the media was already calling it the Dark Bomb. Images of Centauri ships being sucked down and torn apart had been broadcast to all the worlds, presented as if this bomb was a natural product of advanced Terran technology. Its specs had been labeled “ultra-top secret” and spirited away to Astral Intelligence.
Jack doubted he would ever see them again.
His companions looked out over the scene, lost in their own thoughts. None of them had actually spoken about just how close they came to getting smeared across the fourth dimension, but they’d all seen the visuals of the blinding flash, and of Rapier breaking apart as she tumbled out of the jump gate dragging a ripple of dark matter behind her.
Thank God they’d all been in spacesuits. The entire EF had mobilized to recover them. Personally, Jack believed that their incredible speed had been what had given them the necessary mass to keep the gate open long enough to squeeze through. But he had no equations to support that hypothesis, and felt no need to conduct further trials.
He took a long pull of his beer and switched his mind to other subjects.
“So do you think we’ll go home before they redeploy us?”
“Probably,” Thomas said. “Expeditionary Force 15 is going to have to be disbanded, and every ship needs a refit. It’ll take time to sort out where to send everybody, so I expect some shore leave all round.”
“I’ll have my leave request to you today.”
Thomas sipped at his own beer. “I suppose you should, before somebody figures out that the ship I command doesn’t actually exist anymore.” Thomas no longer wore the star of lieutenant commander above his two gold bars—a personal choice on his part.
“The timing couldn’t be better for me,” Katja said. “My father’s birthday is coming up, and I’d hate to miss the annual pilgrimage.” She seemed remarkably serene about it. Jack had heard her speak of her family several times since their return to Terra, and each time she had sounded less tense. Not yet enthusiastic, but something more than merely resigned.
Just serene.
“I have to find out if Soma’s coming to Earth, or if I’m expected to present myself on Ganymede,” Thomas said. “Either way, I’m sure I’m in for quite a parade around the families.”
Jack didn’t know what he was going to do if they sent him home. Go visit his folks, he supposed. Maybe find a nice girl like Thomas had.
“I need to see a good plastic surgeon,” he said without thinking. Thomas and Katja both glanced at him, then quickly averted their eyes. He instantly regretted the comment. He looked around the star lounge for a distraction.
“Hey,” he said, “looks like the brass are having a party.”
His companions followed his gaze toward the bar and saw a cluster of senior officers gathering to collect from the glasses of wine being poured. There must have been two dozen of them, as well as some civilians. There was general mingling, but he noticed that one officer was standing apart, facing two of the civilians.
“Looks like the commodore has found the media,” Thomas said.
“Guess who won’t be far behind,” Katja offered.
Sure enough, moments later a familiar figure with long, curly black hair separated herself from the crowd and hovered near Chandler. Very quickly the newsmen noticed her and invited her to join the interview. Jack watched in sick fascination as Breeze smiled and chatted for the cameras.
He noticed also the look of cool dismissal Chandler immediately threw at her, and her subtle but quick withdrawal. Jack reveled in an unusual moment of delicious schadenfreude. Apparently it was possible to resist Charity Brisebois’s charms.
He was so engrossed that he almost missed another very familiar female commander walking up to their cluster of comfy chairs.
“I think I see the officers of Rapier,” she called out, “but maybe gravimetric interference is clouding my judgment.”
Thomas leapt to his feet and Jack quickly followed suit. Katja couldn’t move so fast, and merely looked up.
“Commander Avernell,” Thomas said, shaking her hand warmly. “Thank you again for covering our retreat. And for offering to stay behind with us.”
“Think nothing of it, Mr. Kane. I figured our two ships have been through enough together, we could survive being stranded in the heart of the enemy.” She smiled. “Plus I know you fast-attack types. You were going for broke no matter what I said. Good thing I gave you my best young pilot.”
Thomas stepped aside and gestured grandly to Jack. “The hero of the hour, ma’am.”
Jack still had trouble looking his former captain in the eye, even when she was smiling at him. He shook her outstretched hand with a mumbled greeting.
“Mr. Mallory, I know you don’t actually belong to my unit anymore, but I’m happy to put in a good word for you. I know the commandant of the fighter school quite well, and the season for the new course start is coming up fast.”
Jack felt his heart skip a beat. Fighter school? He tried not to look too stunned as Avernell waited for his response. Over her shoulder he saw Thomas give him the thumbs-up. But then he glanced at Katja and saw her doubtful expression.
For a brief moment he hated her for it, but her look spoke volumes, and he knew she was right.
“Thanks, ma’am, really. But I think I have a bit of an aptitude for ASW—I might stick with it for a while.”
Avernell was clearly surprised at the response, but her smile broadened.
“I’ll be keeping my eye on you, Mr. Mallory.” She excused herself then, muttering about having to go smile for the cameras.
As she left, Jack and his colleagues hunkered down low in their seats to avoid any chance of being dragged into the media spotlight. Once Jack would have loved to be in the news, but he suddenly had no taste for it.
Not that their presence went entirely unnoticed. Several senior officers made their way over to make polite conversation, including that scary, female Corps commander who ignored him completely and even seemed to make Thomas nervous. Katja actually struggled out of her chair to greet this woman—Commander Vici—even though there seemed to be little warmth in their exchange.
Nothing even resembling a compliment passed Vici’s lips, but when Katja sat down again after the conversation, she practically glowed. Jack sipped his beer and just figured there was a lot he didn’t understand about troopers.
Their drinks were done and they were just working up the energy to leave when Commander Brisebois finally swooped down on them.
“Hey guys,” she said with a dazzling smile. “I had no idea you were hiding over here!”
Nobody stood, but Thomas at least turned in his chair toward her.
“Hello, ma’am.”
She slapped him playfully on the shoulder. “Oh, Thomas, call me Breeze! I’m still just the same person.”
“That’s true.”
She didn’t seem to catch his meaning, and turned her smile on Katja.
“Katja, you look great. I hope you’re going to get a long rest now.”
When Katja didn’t even answer, Breeze turned her full attention to Jack. He had to admit that he still thought she was gorgeous, and he co
uldn’t stop a smile from forming.
“Jack, handsome as ever! We’ll have to meet up when we get back to Earth.”
Was she serious? He felt a stirring in his loins.
“Uhhh, sure,” he said. “When?”
She shook her head, letting out a long sigh.
“So hard to say. I’ve been just so busy since we got back. The diplomats are all screaming at each other, and I can’t produce information fast enough for them. I’m sure you’ve been busy, too.”
Jack shrugged and glanced at the others.
“I’ve been learning to walk again,” Katja said.
“I’m just happy to be breathing,” Thomas added.
Their candid statements broke the charm spell, and Jack suddenly saw that Breeze’s beautiful smile didn’t really touch her eyes. She was a whirlwind in their oasis of calm, and he found the disturbance unwelcome.
“It’s good to see you, Breeze,” he said, “but we were just going.”
The brilliance of her smile faded just for a moment. “Of course. Get some rest. I’ll see you around.”
And then she was gone.
Thomas leaned forward. “So, where are we going, Jack?”
He looked at Thomas, then at Katja, then out toward the stars.
“Home.”
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
No book is the work of a single person. This tale would never have seen the light of day if not for the following folks: my fellow authors Steven Erikson and Mary Rosenblum, my agent Howard Morhaim, my editors Steve Saffel and Marge Gilkes, my beta-readers Jeela Jones, Craig Piccolo, Erin Stinson, Richard Coles, Brian Jalonen, and my beloved wife, Emma.
“Force, and fraud, are in war the two cardinal virtues.”
—Thomas Hobbes, Leviathan, 1651
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Bennett R. Coles served fourteen years as an officer in the Royal Canadian Navy and earned his salt on all classes of ship, from command of a small training ship to warfare director of a powerful combatant to bridge officer of a lumbering supply ship. He toiled as a staff officer in the War on Terror, and served two tours with the United Nations in Syria and Lebanon.
Virtues of War Page 45