by Ryk Brown
“Do you still love her?” the man asked plainly.
The question caught the sergeant off guard. After a moment, he replied, “Yes.”
“You hesitated.”
“You surprised me.”
“Would you do anything to be with her?”
“What is this about?” the sergeant wondered.
“Please answer the question, Sergeant.”
“Why? It doesn’t matter anyway. I’m never getting out of this place. And even if I do, I’m sure she’s either locked up somewhere just like me, or shipped back to Nor-Patri, or…”
“You are correct,” the man replied. “Miss Jassa is still being detained, just as you are. What becomes of her, however, is up to you.”
“This one has already been played,” the sergeant said, leaning back in his chair, his curiosity all but gone. “It failed. And you know why? Because I don’t know anything. I never did.”
“I am here to make you an offer, Sergeant.”
Sergeant Bornet sighed, rolling his eyes and leaning his head back. If he had anything else to do, he would have been annoyed at this waste of his time. “I know, I know. Tell you what I know, and you’ll let her live. Or you’ll let us both live, on some farm out in the middle of nowhere, where we can raise goats and kids, and live happily ever after.” The sergeant looked at the elderly man in the suit. “Like I said, I’ve heard this all before.”
“You are half-right, Sergeant,” the man explained. “However, I seek no information…only your services.”
Sergeant Bornet’s curiosity returned.
“I ask you again, would you do anything to be with Miss Jassa again? To live out your lives together, perhaps even on that out-of-the-way goat farm you spoke of.”
Krispin was suddenly quite unsure of himself, which was a feeling he hadn’t experienced in some time. “What kind of service?”
“I need you to kill someone.”
The sergeant stared at the elderly man sitting across from him, suddenly realizing the electronic device on the table was a sound cloaking field. “I’m not an assassin.”
“You are a highly trained EDF Marine. I have studied your service record. Killing is your specialty.”
“Killing the enemy is my specialty,” Sergeant Bornet replied.
“The enemy comes in many forms,” the elderly man countered. “Not all of whom wear uniforms.”
“Who are you?” the sergeant asked again.
“I am merely a representative, a middleman, so to speak.”
“Then who sent you?” the sergeant wondered. “It has to be someone pretty high up, if you can get me out of here, not to mention get Sara out, as well. Assuming you’re not full of shit, that is.”
“I assure you that I am not.”
“Then who sent you?”
“Michael Galiardi.”
The sergeant’s eyes widened. “Admiral Galiardi?”
“One and the same.”
The sergeant laughed. “Right. Okay, I’ll bite. Who does he want me to kill?”
“You still haven’t answered the question, Sergeant,” the man reminded him. “Would you do anything to be with Sara Jassa again?”
Sergeant Bornet studied the man, long and hard. The old guy had a stone-cold expression that had not changed one iota since he had entered the room. Krispin imagined the man was quite good at his job, whatever that was. He certainly wouldn’t want to be sitting across a poker table from him. “Yes, I would do anything to be with Sara again,” Krispin finally replied. “Even if just for a moment,” he added, looking down in shame. She was his only weakness. She was the chink in his armor. Finally, he looked up at the elderly man sitting across from him. “Who do I have to kill?”
With the same emotionless expression he had worn throughout their brief conversation, the elderly man replied, “President Dayton Scott.”
CHAPTER TWO
“Report!” Cameron barked as she entered the bridge from her ready room.
“Single jump flash!” Lieutenant Commander Kono reported from the sensor station. “One point five million kilometers out.”
“Identity?”
“Unknown,” the lieutenant commander replied. “It jumped in cold. Whatever it is, it doesn’t want to be seen. It’s not emitting anything. Should we go active?”
“Negative,” Cameron ordered as she stood in front of her command chair. “Position?”
“The jump flash was detected at one five seven by two two five,” Lieutenant Commander Kono reported.
“That’s in the expected arrival sector,” Lieutenant Commander Vidmar stated from the tactical station behind Cameron. “But why would they be running cold?”
“In case the fleet had been captured by the Dusahn,” Cameron said. “At least, that’s what I would do.”
“Shouldn’t there be more of them?” Lieutenant Commander Kono wondered. “If it is them, I mean.”
“Should we vector the patrol Eagles to intercept?” Lieutenant Commander Vidmar suggested.
“Not yet,” Cameron insisted. “Comms, transmit an escape jump warning to all ships.”
“Aye, sir,” Ensign deBanco acknowledged.
“Are we emitting?” Cameron asked.
“Very little,” Lieutenant Commander Kono replied. “Ship-to-ship comms and data exchange is all via laser-link. Other than occasional station-keeping thrusters, the fleet is running cold, as well.”
“Then they can’t see us, either,” Cameron surmised.
“Well, they can’t see us, but they can see most of the other ships, if they look long enough. Most of those cargo ships leak emissions like crazy, and with all those windows, the Mystic emits a lot of visible light. They can see the fleet, they just can’t hear what we’re saying to each other.”
“All ships report ready to jump, Captain,” the comms officer reported.
“Very well.”
“If it is one of ours, shouldn’t they be contacting us?”
“They will,” Cameron insisted. “Just as soon as they’re sure it’s us.”
“Captain,” Ensign deBanco said, “I’m receiving a data transmission on a Ghatazhak frequency.”
“Direction?” Cameron asked.
“Same as the jump flash,” the ensign replied. “One five seven by two two five. It’s a text message, sir. Message reads: ‘Don’t shoot, it’s Jess and Bobert.’”
Cameron smiled. “Try to hail them via laser-comms.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Why only one?” Lieutenant Commander Vidmar wondered.
“We’re about to find out,” Cameron replied, not revealing that she was just as anxious to know as the rest of them.
“Contact!” Lieutenant Commander Kono announced. “They just lit up. One Cobra gunship, squawking Ghatazhak transponder codes. Range is seven hundred thousand kilometers and closing fast. Target is decelerating.”
“Laser-comm link established, Captain.”
“Aurora, Cobra One,” Jessica’s voice called over the loudspeakers. “Request permission to join the fleet.”
“Cobra One, Aurora Actual,” Cameron replied. “Permission granted. Good to see you again. How many parking spaces are you going to need?”
“Good to see you, too,” Jessica replied. “Eight more on the way, so nine total.”
“Nine? You managed to snag nine gunships?” Cameron replied, surprised.
“Yes, but the price was high,” Jessica replied, her voice turning a bit solemn. “Twenty KIA, half as many wounded. And we lost all the Rakers, Cam, ships and pilots.”
The bridge fell silent for several moments. Finally, Cameron replied, “Understood.”
“Most of us are a bit shot up, but Cobras Three and Ten are worse off than the rest.”
“I thought you said you took nine ships?”
“We tried to take twelve,” Jessica explained. “Only nine made it out alive.”
“We’ll get Three and Ten down first. How far out are they?”
“They
should be jumping in momentarily,” Jessica replied. “See you soon.”
“Actual, out.” Cameron turned aft. “Alert Flight Ops,” she instructed her comms officer. She looked over at her tactical officer. “Nine gunships.”
“In exchange for twenty lives and six Rakers,” he reminded her. “Was it worth it?”
“Let’s hope so,” she replied. What she really wondered, was if Nathan was among those who had lost their lives.
* * *
Once their gunship was secure on the external flight deck, aft of the Aurora’s main hangar deck, Nathan and Vladimir grabbed their gear and exited the cramped vessel that had been their home for the last three days. After passing through the narrow boarding tunnel, connecting their ship to the Aurora, they stepped through the airlock and into the aft end of the main hangar bay.
Nathan breathed a sigh of relief as his feet touched the hangar deck. It was good to be back, although he still didn’t feel like the Aurora was his home…not like before. Not like he remembered from years ago. In his mind, the Seiiki was still his home, just as it had been for the last five years as Connor Tuplo.
With each passing day, it seemed like more of Connor was giving way to Nathan, and it bothered him somewhat. He had liked his life jumping around the Pentaurus sector. It had been difficult at times, often becoming stranded on a less-than-desirable world for lack of paying runs. He had long ago lost count of how many times he nearly had his ship impounded because he couldn’t pay his berthing fees. But despite all that, it had still been a good life. Success, or failure, had been his to make. He had been in control of his own destiny.
Or at least, he had thought so.
He breathed another sigh of relief when he spotted the Seiiki, safely berthed in the starboard large-transfer airlock, with Marcus and Dalen busy inspecting the exterior of the ship.
“I’m going to check on the Seiiki,” Vladimir said. “Want me to take your gear?”
“Thanks,” Nathan replied, handing his two bags to Vladimir. “Just toss them in my cabin, will ya?”
Vladimir took Nathan’s bags and headed starboard to join Dalen and Marcus, while Nathan continued forward.
Nathan looked to his left, spotting the two most heavily damaged Cobra gunships in the port large-transfer airlock. The two ships piloted by General Telles and Josh, would need extensive repairs before becoming operational again. Both ships had been lucky just to have escaped Kohara, let alone make it back to the Aurora.
Although he had seen the damage during the occasional glimpses of the other ships during their transit, this was the first time he was able to get a good look at them. Nathan paused, watching as the Aurora’s mechanics and engineers swarmed about the ships, preparing to move them into the main hangar bay for the duration of their repairs.
General Telles stood next to one of the line chiefs, pointing out the damage that he was aware of. The general noticed Nathan, and turned to head toward him.
Nathan had been thinking about what to say to the general all the way home. He had not liked his decision to use deadly force against Alliance Marines back on Kohara. In fact, three days ago, he had been quite angry about it. However, time to reflect, as well as numerous conversations about it with Vladimir during their long journey, had caused his anger to subside, becoming more of a concern.
“General,” Nathan greeted as General Telles approached.
“Captain,” the general replied.
“Impressive that you made it back in one piece.”
“It looks far worse than it is. Josh is the one to be congratulated, if anyone. His damage is far more extensive. Were you aware that his auto-jump sequencer failed halfway through the journey?”
“I was not.”
“He had to calculate each jump, and get his ship on course and speed manually before jumping. Yet, he still managed to keep up with the pack.”
“Why didn’t we just slow down for him?” Nathan wondered.
“Captain Nash offered to do so, but Josh insisted they maintain their pace.”
“For a day and a half?” Nathan exclaimed. “When did he sleep?”
“I don’t believe he has,” the general replied. “At least, not in the last two days. Loki offered to change ships with him, so he could get some rest, but Josh refused that, as well.”
“That kid constantly amazes me,” Nathan admitted.
“He is no longer a child,” the general proclaimed. “In fact, he has grown into an impressive young man. A bit reckless, perhaps, but his natural skill and determination more than makes up for it.” The general looked at Nathan. “Reminds me of someone.”
Nathan understood the reference, as well as the compliment contained within it, which made what he wanted to say that much more difficult.
General Telles sensed this. “You wish to voice your concerns over my decision to use deadly force back on Kohara,” he said, inviting the discourse.
“I don’t wish to,” Nathan corrected.
“Rest assured that the decision was not taken lightly.”
“Of course.” Nathan turned to continue walking toward the forward exit. “My concern is not with the decision you made, but, rather, that it does not seem to bother you.”
“On what do you base that assumption?” the general asked as he walked alongside.
Nathan thought for a moment. “Good point,” he finally admitted. “Does it bother you?”
“No, but not for the reasons you might expect,” the general explained. “I take no pleasure in the taking of lives…not even those of legitimate enemy combatants. And for the record, I did not consider the Alliance Marines to be so. However, by the same token, I do not feel any regret in taking lives, if doing so is necessary.”
“And you feel that taking the lives of those marines was necessary?” Nathan asked.
“Would you have preferred that my men and I lay down our own lives in order to avoid taking theirs?”
“Of course not,” Nathan insisted. “I only wish it had not been necessary.”
“As do I. Unfortunately, it was. Would it make you feel better if I were to run down the thought process behind that decision?”
“I don’t know. It might.”
“Primarily, it was for the sake of the mission. Had we not acquired at least four gunships, the mission would have been a complete waste of time and resources. Even with eight, one could argue that it was still not worth it.”
“Nine,” Nathan corrected.
“Eight,” the general stood firm. “Josh’s gunship is too badly damaged to repair, but we can salvage many usable parts which will help us repair the others, and keep them operating.”
“I don’t see the point.”
“The point is, I had to decide if we could achieve a satisfactory mission outcome without taking the lives of those marines. I concluded that we could not.”
“You said primarily,” Nathan pointed out.
“Indeed. The second reason, and it was a close second, our numbers are limited.”
“But we haven’t even begun our recruitment drive,” Nathan countered.
“I speak of the Ghatazhak,” the general corrected. “It takes at least a decade to properly train a Ghatazhak. Longer, if the process is not started in adolescence. That makes the lives of my men even more valuable to the cause than those gunships.”
Nathan was taken aback, stopping in his tracks.
“Something troubles you?” the general asked.
“It’s just that I don’t ever remember you being concerned about the loss of your men.”
“There is still much you do not understand about the Ghatazhak,” the general replied.
“I suppose you’re right,” Nathan agreed, continuing to walk. “There is one more thing that concerns me.”
“And that is?”
“Which one of us is going to be in charge of this rebellion?” Nathan asked. “Am I to be a figurehead; a poster boy to inspire the masses? Or am I to actually lead them?”
; “Captain, if all we needed was a face to make speeches, we could have used your clone without your consciousness. We could have programmed it be loyal to the Ghatazhak, in order to make it do as we wished.”
“Then I am to lead the rebellion.”
“That was the idea.”
“And if I had countermanded your order to use deadly force against those marines?”
“I would have instructed my men to ignore your order…and they would have. Furthermore, should you have given such an order, it would have brought serious doubt into your qualifications to lead this rebellion,” the general explained further. “You see, I expect many such decisions will need to be made before this war is over. We will be forced to do things that would normally appear horrendous. Some will call us terrorists; brutes with no emotion…”
“Like the people of Earth did after the massacre at the evacuation compound,” Nathan reminded him.
“An excellent example. One that makes my point quite nicely, in fact…”
“Look,” Nathan interrupted, stopping again and turning toward the general, “I understand what you’re saying. And for the most part, I agree with you. Sometimes good men must do bad things for the greater good. But sometimes good men have to refuse to do such things, in order to remain worthy of their positions of leadership. You see, the ends don’t always justify the means. For if we must become as evil as those we fight, we win nothing. We simply replace one evil with another.”
“On this, we are in complete agreement,” the general assured him.
“Are your men in agreement, as well?” Nathan asked.
General Telles paused a moment before responding. “My assurances could prove meaningless. I would suggest that you review the helmet-cam recordings from the battle. There you will find your assurances.”
* * *
“The Cetian Leadership Council is demanding that only Cetian officers are put in command of the Benakh,” Admiral Cheggis said. “In fact, half of them are demanding that her entire crew be of Cetian citizenship.”
“Can you blame them?” Commander Macklay declared. “It was their world that was attacked, and it was a Terran who made it possible.”