by Imogene Nix
He paused, and every member of the crew watched him, waiting for him to continue.
“The Admiralty has since launched other craft like her, but no other will be the Elector. Whether we live or die, no other crew will be like our Elector. And no other crew can do me as proud as those of you standing before me. You made the Elector what she is today. If this is to be goodbye, then do so not with long faces, but the light of battle in your eye. For we are the Elector.”
Harsh cries of battle filled the air as everyone accepted the words spoken by their captain. Duvall gave a single salute, then turned away and walked swiftly through the door and beyond sight, and the hush once more descended.
Many were overcome, wiping away tears as Grayson stepped forward, his words ringing through the air. “You have all been assigned to a role, be it reporting to the various commanders on the Star of Ishtar or here. Wear your uniform and your Elector badge with pride. Remember, you represent all who’ve taken shelter within her. Everyone wants to be one of us, but few will ever achieve that. Safe travels and farewell to those leaving. Dismissed.”
For just an instant longer, they waited before the tide of movement began. Jemma clambered up into her shuttle, and crewmembers assigned to the first run swiftly entered the holds on the small shuttles that arrived to redeploy the crew. Then the doors clacked shut, the cargo bay door opened, and the shuttles rose, heading for the Star of Ishtar.
Chowd remained there, watching the movement as the doors shut once more and the plasglass of the secure shielding opened with a whoosh. Great metallic cargo boxes were filled and stacked, ready for the return of the shuttles. From time to time, the klaxon wailed, and they moved within the safe zone again as people came and went in the small crafts that arrived and left with monotonous regularity. Those who would swell the ranks of his security crew came first, and he met them, sending them with his second to attend meetings and find their designated cabins.
Medics arrived as well, along with the captain of the Star of Ishtar, for a final face-to-face briefing with Duvall, the gravity of the visit clear in his quick look and long sigh before he disappeared into the corridor with Grayson. The extra combat pilots arrived together with their ships, seasoned pilots with the best crafts to offer support to the Elector in what they hoped would be the final battle of the war.
The long days of preparation continued with a level of organization that belied the rush, while people moved like ants across the plascrete of the bay until finally the Elector settled into a waiting silence.
The final shuttle landed, and Jemma quickly stowed everything away. The extra combat jets hung from the roof of the cargo bay, fuelled and ready to go. Chowd took one last opportunity to walk around the hanger, checking and rechecking the security settings.
“Secure the hanger bay.” He threw the command over his shoulder as he exited. There was nothing more he could do there.
Chapter 15
Rage coursed through Crick Sur Banden’s system, making him burn. So they’d once more been infiltrated. Even days after learning this fact, he still couldn’t dismiss the anger that rose in his gut. The death of the medics had made a proportion of his rogues so much less compliant, and he feared that this could somehow stop him from achieving the result he knew would allow him to reign supreme.
How could this happen? The words had become an almost constant refrain in his mind, stopping him from sleeping. Is this all I can look forward to, he wondered as the weariness dragged at him.
His most loyal rogues now stayed with him all the time. They alone offered him protection, yet even among them, he could sense discontent. They need a victory. Something to offer them a break from the waiting and watching.
Warriors could not, and should not, have to wait for battle. Soon, though, his body would recover, and he would lead them to the mightiest victory they had ever celebrated. But that’s a lie, isn’t it? The Xeradax now only gave him nominal relief. His body tensed and released, spasming constantly as his mind dimmed then refocused.
The only remaining medic searched for alternatives, though he hadn’t missed the look in his eye. The Xeradax was failing, and he needed another option quickly.
He knew his periods of lucidity grew shorter, and he feared what would happen soon. One of the rogues would take the final step and ascend to the coveted position his only remaining son and heir should assume. Not that he showed any signs of being worthy, but at this time, Crick had no further options. I need my son. He would have to find some way to make Chowd come on his own if force didn’t work.
Steps moving quickly caught his attention. “What’s the latest?”
One of the rogues scurried over to report. The small unit in his hand beeped furiously. “Sir, there is movement afoot. The treaty between Earth and Ru’Edan has been finalized. We believe they will now send a joint strike force after you.” He looked fearfully toward Crick.
“Nonsense. They don’t have the resources yet, nor a team sufficiently cohesive.” He brushed the report off. After all, years of war had weakened everyone and caused so much dissent, it couldn’t have come to an accord so quickly. And a joint strike force? No, that was just another rumor.
I have weakened them with my constant incursions. Besides, he told himself, they don’t know about Otega. He stopped for a moment. Do they?
“What about my spies in the Admiralty?” The question came out thick and slurred, but he pierced the rogue with a cold look, one that would have had them running in the past, but he still retained enough power that the rogue paled.
“Nothing. My Lord...I believe they have been compromised.”
The rogue’s quiet voice had Crick working hard to hear, and the Ru’Edan shook, his hands convulsively moving with fright as the pupils of his eyes dilated and his nostrils flared. The scent of sweat filled the air, acrid and biting.
Compromised? Well, I have spies surrounding the senators too. “The spies on station?”
The rogue gulped. “My Lord...we have heard nothing...for days. I believe they have also been compromised.”
He scurried backward as Crick rose. Unsteady though he was, he still moved with purpose. The rogue slipped backward to the ground in his attempt to escape. Crick bared his teeth. Anger lent him speed and sureness of step.
Fools! Always surrounded by fools!
He reached for the laser he now perpetually kept holstered on himself. His finger itched, and even as he fought against the urge, it rose in his hands, and the whine once more split the air. Fzzt!
His second came running, the sound of pounding footsteps loud in the sudden silence. “My Lord...” The words died away as he spied the rogue writhing in his death throes upon the floor, a stench filling the air.
“Fools, I am surrounded by fools and ingrates,” he muttered. “What? What news do you bring me now?”
His second swallowed heavily, and Crick’s eyes were drawn to his neck. The constriction of muscles suddenly seemed of great importance.
“Nothing, My Lord. I came when I heard the sound. However, is there anything you require?”
The words came out thinly, as if trying to escape an obstruction, and Crick began to laugh at the idea of a blockage in the rogue’s throat. Maybe that was something he could try on the humans. For an instant his thoughts splintered, whirling away, but the question was repeated, and his need redoubled, gripping him tight.
“Xeradax! Bring me more Xeradax!” He stumbled back to his seat, the pain in his limbs suddenly overcoming his mind as he lifted the goblet of wine to his mouth. He felt the liquid spilling over his hand. “We must begin preparations to invade Aenna...” he mumbled as once more his head slumped backward and his eyes closed.
* * * *
Chowd ached. He stretched the muscles of his shoulders again, looking for relief in the meeting that had droned on for hours.
“We believe that Crick Sur Banden has an extensive underground tunnel system. Chowd has drawn as much as he remembers of it, but the problem is, we
really don’t know what fortifications he has.” Duvall’s voice, strained and tired, filled the air.
They all shared a level of exhaustion in the lead-up to the mission, averaging eighteen to twenty hour days, returning to their cabins to sleep then back at their posts after forcing the nutritional supplements and foods that tasted like sandpaper down their throats.
“One thing we do know, though, is he has new fortifications in place since I got away,” Chowd said. “The information has come from a number of sources, Duvall. We need to find a way of jamming them first before we consider anything else. So far we’ve managed to find a way to do so on the small installations he has placed, but there are others, much bigger. That’s before we get into the whole deal of how to cope with the underground tunnels when we do reach the planet. He has Phobos pirates constantly circulating. Given the situations when we have met them previously, we can be assured he has other surprises as well. To be honest, the thing we need right now is downtime for the entire crew.”
“Chowd, we’re all tired, but we need to formulate plans to deal with every aspect of the mission. We can’t go until we know what we can expect to face.” Duvall’s words were firm, and Chowd took a look at his friend’s face. Shadowed eyes and a five o’clock shadow shouted of his exhaustion. He knew the same look could be found mirrored on his face.
Beside him, Meredith drooped in her chair. They’d been at this for hours, checking all the information they had on file about Otega, collecting and sharing the information they had gleaned from the Ru’Edan. That included details of the capture of the insurgents who’d attempted to kill the ambassador on the station.
Elara stood. “You know, as the SurgiTech, I’m going to overrule all of you. We’ve been in this meeting now for over eight hours. None of us can continue to work at this pace without adequate downtime, as Chowd has pointed out. So I’m ordering this meeting closed.” She looked sternly at Duvall, who had opened his mouth only to close it again with a tired nod. “With all due respect, Captain, none of us are functioning at our best. We need rest. You need rest. A minimum of four hours, but my preference is eight. Time to sleep and eat.”
Duvall nodded as they stood, ready to leave. Meredith swayed slightly, and Chowd put out a hand to steady her.
“Chowd, can you stay for a minute.” Duvall’s words weren’t a question, he knew, and he looked into Meredith’s owlish eyes. She slowly blinked then nodded as if she understood and made her way out the door with the others.
Once the door shut, Chowd turned. “What?”
“I know you’re concerned. We all are. I’m also aware of the amount of pressure you are feeling right now.” Chowd opened his mouth, but Duvall held up a hand. “Listen, you of all of us have no love for Otega, but we have to get it together. If we don’t, many more will die.”
Chowd closed his eyes. His friend had hit his fears smack in the center. His memories, the things he’d tried to forget. But remembering the scene he’d left behind hurt. He had so much to lose this time. Last time he’d lost his mother. He didn’t want to lose his family, his friends, and more importantly, the woman he loved.
“I asked her.”
“I know.” Duvall paused with a heavy sigh. “She told Mellissa. That makes you my brother, although in every way that counts you already were. Let’s get through this so we have something to celebrate afterward. Now I’m ordering you to rest. Make sure Meredith does too. If you don’t, she won’t either, and I need both of you ready to go in the morning.” Duvall turned away before muttering, “And for Eshra’s sake, if your shoulders hurt in the morning, go see Elara.” Duvall moved toward his desk in tacit dismissal.
“Are you going to tell on me?” For a moment they resumed their customary banter.
“Yeah, I might at that.” Duvall sat behind his desk, logging back in.
“Go to bed, Duvall. I’m heading for mine.”
“Not yet, I still have a few things to do.”
“I’ll beep Elara if you don’t take her advice.” He smiled for the first time since the situation had evolved, knowing his words sounded childish.
Duvall looked at him, shock clear on his face, then he too smiled, which became a laugh. “Yeah. You’re right. Let’s get some shut-eye.”
Duvall rose, and Chowd left the room without looking back. He wandered slowly down the corridor, the ship settling in for the night in silence, and he found that comforting. Meredith would wait for him, but he needed the brief time alone. He needed time to sort through his emotions as they twisted through him.
His last view of Otega had been in the screens of the ship as he’d run away. The day his mother had died. Now he would return and do everything in his power to save the Empire. His mind told him he couldn’t even save his mother. “Dammit, I was little more than a child at the time.”
He’d return as an adult. It didn’t make the sting any easier to bear though. He had carried the loss of his mother for so long like a stone around his neck, and now he had to cast it off. He didn’t know if he could do that as easily as he wanted to. Chowd sighed.
The door stood in front of him, and he needed Meredith. Not just the feel of her body, but her soothing presence too.
The door slid open, and there she sat. “I’ve been waiting for you.” Simple really. As if she’d read his mind.
In the morning he would talk to her, but right now, he needed to sleep with her in his arms.
* * * *
Morning arrived, just like it did every day on the Elector. Soft chimes wakened him as the lighting automatically switched on, but today would be unlike any other. They should reach Otega today. He really needed to talk to Meredith. Those two facts converged in his mind.
She rolled, stretching slightly, her beautiful eyes searching his face. “Good morning. I can see your mind is already turning over.” The amusement in her voice faded away as she watched him. “You’re worried. Tell me what concerns you.” She would always face life head-on, his Meredith.
“Otega. I’m thinking about the last time I was there. The day my mother died. She got me out, gave up her life.” He gazed sightlessly at the wall, reliving the horror he felt. But he had to get the words out. He felt a burning need to explain to her so she understood his fears. He didn’t know why, but it seemed of great importance.
She waited in silence as he drew ragged breaths. Her small fingers linked with his as his chest expanded, and he let go.
“She knew the time was coming when I would be conscripted, essentially. Once my brother died, there was no option, and we already had bags packed and hidden. She’d trained me, prepared me for our escape, even plotted a course. She was the one who ensured I learned how to pilot the shuttle. I always had suspicions of what she did to arrange it, but I never asked. Not then.”
His heart beat like a drum in his chest, and pushing the words out hurt, as if pushing them past a lump in his throat.
“We got word that morning that he, my half-brother, had been killed in combat. “ The memories came fast, cycling through his mind. “She all but dragged me to the cargo bay, but they shot her down just as we were heading up the ramp. They shot her like an animal. She made me go. I didn’t want to, didn’t really understand at the time, but she did. It was the chance she gave me, that meant I could...”
He looked into her eyes, unable to continue. His eyes burned with a mixture of remembered emotions and fury. He hadn’t ever allowed himself to feel the grief, not properly, since that day.
“She died in the hanger. I engaged the thrusters, and that’s how he got the injuries. That’s why he relies on the Xeradax. I don’t even know what they did with her. I never found out what happened to her body, how they disposed of it. I don’t even know if there was anything much left to deal with after...” A river of hot tears ran down his face, and he turned away.
She placed a soft finger under his chin. “You did exactly what you had to do. She wanted you to get away. To survive. You did that, and now you can avenge her. C
howd? Don’t ever turn away from me. I could handle most things, but not that.” She leaned forward and laid a chaste kiss on his lips, all the while enfolding him in her arms.
She waited quietly, not saying a word, just holding him, giving him the strength he needed to face the herculean task ahead of all of them.
After he’d settled, she loosened her grip. He looked at the wall for just a minute longer. “I’ve never told anyone everything.”
Her smile was sad. “You needed to talk about it. Having it bottled up for years made it so much harder. We can talk again about your mother when all this is over.”
“I’d like that.” He cast Meredith a quick, grateful look as he rose, his body and mind more refreshed than it had felt in a long time.
He pulled on the clothes he had laid out the night before as she tugged on her own flight suit.
“When this is done, I want us to arrange a communing ceremony. With your family and my uncle present.” His voice echoed in the silence.
“I’d like to do that too.” She smiled softly, and he felt the warmth of her love once again filling up the empty places inside him.
They left the cabin together, walking in the direction of the mess area to grab a quick bite before heading to Duvall’s office.
The mess hall was full of Ru’Edan fighter pilots and what remained of the crew. With nowhere to sit, they grabbed their trays and headed straight for Duvall’s office. The door slid open to reveal Grayson and Duvall making last-minute adjustments to their flight path. They would have backed out, but Duvall motioned for them to come forward.
“We have just intercepted this.” He held out a communication log, which was clearly from Crick Sur Banden It was full of invectives. Each answer and question from the Phobos pirates grew shorter and more curt after Crick instructed them not to openly engage the Elector. “Meredith, does it look like anything you have seen from Crick Sur Banden before?”