Neptune's War

by Nick Webb

  “You’re coming back, aren’t you?” she said.

  He couldn’t believe the voice he was hearing those words from. Pike turned to stare at her, her dark hair starting to escape its bun, her uniform dirty. She knew. There was something in her eyes that said she knew, but she didn’t take back the question.

  “Laura….”

  “Please just say it,” she whispered. Her eyes were dry, but her face was tinged with gray.

  “I’m coming back.” He told the lie easily, and she accepted it just as easily, coming to lay her head on his chest.

  She gave a shuddering breath and clenched her arms as tight as she could, tightly enough to make him gasp with pain.

  “Easy,” he managed. “I’m enough of a gimp with the one arm.”

  She laughed and did not raise her head.

  “And you’ll make it through this too, right?” he asked her. He realized what the question sounded like a moment later, and revised it. “You’ll be here when I get back?”

  She squeezed her arms briefly. “I’ll be here when you get back,” she echoed.

  Hard to tell if she was lying. Suddenly, he wasn’t sure whether she knew he had been, too.

  Hope was a dangerous thing. Pain be damned, he wrapped both arms around her and rested his lips on the top of her head.

  “You know, any other time we might have had a really boring life,” he said against her hair.

  She sniffled. “Boring sounds nice.” Then, more quietly, “I wonder what it’s like to get old.”

  “We’re going to find out, remember?” He craned his neck to look down at her. “I’ll stop Ka’sagra, come back, you’ll have pulled out some brilliant solution with Dawn to deal with Tel’rabim, and then we’ll settle Earth and I’ll build you a gorgeous cabin in the mountains, and we’ll get old and creaky and complain about our grandkids having no manners.”

  She laughed, but her mouth was left gaping open in a sob. She nodded. “Right. Yeah. You’ll have a cane, I bet.”

  “I’ll whittle myself a cane. You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”

  She buried her face back in his shirt and he felt her hands clench. “I miss Jack. He was supposed to complain about us first. I was going to learn about complaining from him.” She pulled back and wiped her eyes. “Oh, God. I’m a mess.”

  “Hey.” He wiped her tears away with his thumbs. “Jack will be there in spirit every day to help you complain. He’ll haunt the barn, all right?”

  “What the hell is a barn?”

  He started laughing. It hurt so badly, but if this was the end, there was nothing left but laughing. “You have so much to learn about Earth. So … get crackin’ and make that plan.”

  “Right.” She managed a smile, a real one, then held out her hand. “Meet you back here in a few days?”

  “In a few days,” he agreed. He clasped her hand and shook it on the agreement. “And if you get a sec—you know, during all the conquering and ass-kicking—look up flowers and tell me what you want in the garden. I’ll make it happen.” He was backing away, hands in his pockets.

  If he kissed her again, he wouldn’t leave.

  She nodded. And then, knowing he was watching, she gave a little wave and turned to slip back into the hallways. She didn’t look back—just as if she would see him in a few hours, everything entirely normal. As if they didn’t need to catch every last glimpse of one another. You had to watch her very carefully to see the tension, her choice not to turn back.

  But he knew her very, very well.

  He turned to meet Nhean’s eyes, where the man was lingering in the Aggy II’s doorway.

  Time to go, the man’s eyes said.

  Pike did not glance back to where he might see Walker lingering. He ducked onto the Aggy II and kept his face turned away as the door came down between them.

  He hoped to God he was making the right decision.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE

  Earth, High Orbit

  Lieutenant McAllister’s Fighter

  He wouldn’t be able to follow them once they really got going, but that wasn’t his job—he was here to give them a chance, nothing more. McAllister came alongside the Aggy II and waggled the wings of his fighter. He saw Nhean give a thumbs up through the Aggy II’s viewport, and he returned the gesture.

  He wasn’t quite sure what to think of this. His part of the mission was simple enough that he hadn’t questioned it … and then he had caught a glimpse of the admiral walking away from the shuttle bay with suspiciously bright eyes, and heard from a disgusted deck liaison that the man who’d destroyed Vesta had been on the bridge … and had been allowed to leave again.

  Now he wasn’t quite sure what was going on. He flipped the button for the comm channel and, after a moment, decided not to press it.

  What was he going to say, anyway? Are you two coming back from this alive?

  That seemed like the sort of thing one didn’t ask.

  There had to be a good reason, anyway. The admiral had just lost Jack Delaney. She wasn’t going to lose anyone else if she could help it.

  The battle between the Funders’ fleet and the Telestines was starting to get into full swing, and McAllister guided the Aggy II around the very far edge of things. The battle even looked pretty from out here: no noise of course, just flashes of fire and bursts of light across the silver hulls.

  When the first missile came in, it was possible enough that it was a mistake, some shot gone wild as a ship turned into formation. McAllister flipped his comm on.

  “Swerve up to avoid—it’s not reading as guided.”

  “Will do.” Nhean’s voice was very level. “Thank you for helping us with this, McAllister. It’s much appreciated.”

  “Of course,” McAllister said awkwardly. He really felt as if he should know what he was helping with before accepting thanks for it. He watched as the missile streaked underneath them and off into the black. Would it ever stop, he wondered? Drawn into a gravity well, impacting an asteroid? Or would it just go forever?

  That was a disturbing thought. Missiles could be traveling all around, thrown from battles in distant galaxies.

  And … there were three more missiles now. Definitely not a mistake, and these ones were guided.

  “You put on some speed,” McAllister instructed. “I’m going to get between you and them and try to draw them off. If you see anything new, you let me know.”

  “Will do. Those are missiles from the Pius. Looks like Ka’sagra has ordered the Funders to not let us head out without a fight.” Nhean sounded cautious now.

  McAllister hugged the Aggy II in a quick turn and pulled alongside the shuttle for a moment as it accelerated. The missiles wavered, confused and seeking, and then locked onto his ship as the guidance systems found a new target.

  Excellent. He shot upwards and they followed, one exploding almost immediately against the countermeasures he’d dropped.

  The other two, unfortunately, kept coming. McAllister did a loop-de-loop with a little grin of amusement and shot right under the tails of the two missiles. By twisting his ship up and around, he got a clear shot at one of them. He only just managed to bank again in time to keep the third missile from locking onto the Aggy II again, and he was just readying for another loop-de-loop when his screen lit up.

  Nine missiles, all guided.

  These people weren’t playing around. Whatever the hell Nhean and Pike were doing, someone either knew or suspected—otherwise, this was an awful lot of munitions to waste on one lonely little ship the size of the Aggy II. McAllister whipped around as fast as he dared and let loose a stream of bullets. The third missile exploded and he sailed through the debris with a wince, unable to turn away quickly enough.

  He was going to get hell from the deck crew for the damage.

  And in the meantime, he had nine more missiles to deal with—probably more, if the ships shooting at them had anything to say about it.

  “Don’t suppose you could start accelerating now?” he
called over the comms. “If things continue the way they are—” he broke off for a moment as he guided his ship through the space between two missiles “—I’m not going to be enough to help you for much longer.”

  There was a pause, filled with some low voiced muttering.

  “We’ll start accelerating,” Nhean’s voice came back. “Will you be able to make it back to the Santa Maria?”

  “Don’t you worry about me,” McAllister said. He knew he sounded cocky. He never felt quite so alive as during a battle. “I do stuff like this all the—shit.”

  Eight more, and they were heading right for the Aggy II.

  “Go! Now!”

  To his relief, they listened to him. The Aggy II began to accelerate.

  But so did the missiles.

  He didn’t have time to make any other choice. The missiles were going to outstrip him in a few seconds. McAllister slammed the thrusters to full bore and did the only thing he could do. He turned his ship sideways between the missile spread and the Aggy II.

  At least it was going to be quick. In the split-second that seemed to stretch forever as he turned to stare down the missiles, his lips formed one last thought: Arianna. I’m coming.

  As his ship burst into debris, the Aggy II behind him shot into FTL in a blaze of multi-colored light. When the next set of guided missiles arrived a few seconds later, they continued on into the darkness, seeking the two targets they had lost.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR

  Inside Mercury’s Orbit

  Aggy II

  Cockpit

  Traveling at FTL speeds seemed to do funny things to his brain. Pike was sure he had just looked back over his shoulder to try to catch one last glimpse of McAllister’s fighter, and then he was looking around again and the sun was blinding and Larsen’s ship was alongside them while Nhean guided his along the starboard viewing window and began a series of pings.

  “McAllister didn’t make it….” Pike murmured, and Nhean looked over in surprise.

  “Oh, you’re back.”

  “Huh?”

  “I think you blacked out.” Nhean tilted his head. “I think I might have blacked out, too. But the trip also seemed pretty long. I don’t know.” He considered for a moment. “I didn’t try to help you,” he said at last, “so you can’t have been out that long.”

  “How long was the trip?” Pike asked blearily.

  Nhean tapped the clock that was now flashing entirely different numbers each second. He grinned. “No way to know. We made the ship go fast all right, but the rest of the systems don’t seem set up to handle it.” He gave a nod of satisfaction as the location map stopped flickering. “Ah, at least it figured out where we are, other than ‘near the Arianna King.’” He looked over at the window. “And they see us.”

  “Didn’t we send a message?”

  “Yes, but Larsen is … well, I’d say excessively cautious, but given current events, that’s probably rational.” Nhean nodded. “They’re opening the shuttle bay doors. That’s a good sign. Look alive. We have a ship to intercept—not too long now, unless I miss my guess.”

  Parees appeared nervous as they docked. His too-thin frame was almost physically painful to look at, and it was clear that he was carrying on only by force of will. He was shaking when he pulled himself up out of the chair to follow Pike and Nhean onto the flight deck of the King.

  They were met with a spread of sidearms, but Larsen dropped his as soon as he saw who it was, and gave a shrug. “Can’t blame us for being cautious,” he said, as he holstered his weapon. “Especially when you came out of nowhere. Did you get cloaking or something?”

  “FTL, believe it or not. And we’ll need to dock with another ship slowing down from similar speeds. Pike and Parees can start preparing the docking clamp while we talk.” Nhean nodded to the engine room. “We have to move quickly. Someone come find me if any other ships appear—they should all be human frigates, I believe. They may or may not read as heavily armed.”

  The crew waited for Larsen’s affirmation, and then hurried away to the bridge.

  “Is she alive?” The question was tense, spilling out as soon as they were alone.

  “She’s alive.” Pike knew the man’s fear all too well. “The ship crashed, but Laura’s alive.”

  “My God. How many—”

  “Delaney. McAllister. And many others.” He watched the color drain from Larsen’s face, and then he took his tools and followed Parees while the conversation continued behind him.

  “We don’t have much time,” Nhean said quietly. “Min got your message, but he had Tel’rabim pinned down—he didn’t realize it was really Ka’sagra. That was my fault, I was trying to keep the admiral from learning everything I knew.”

  “Why?” Larsen demanded instantly.

  Nhean, to Pike’s surprise, did not mention Walker’s plan. “It was a mistake, let’s leave it at that. Now. Ka’sagra is on her way with twelve bombs that use hydrogen as a catalyst—that means they must not get to the sun. They cannot, as far as I can tell, be remotely defused. So what we need to do is get onto her ship. Which means we need to dock with her ship and enter.” He paused. “Preferably without her realizing we’re there.”

  There was a pause.

  “What aren’t you telling me?” Larsen asked finally.

  Nhean paused—not for drama, Pike suspected, but to make sure Larsen was really paying attention to the answer.

  “I don’t think we’ll be able to defuse the bombs in time to get off the ship.”

  There was a very long silence.

  “You want my crew to sacrifice their lives as a boarding party,” Larsen said quietly.

  “We could leave them on the King,” Nhean suggested. “As soon as they know we’re handling it, they, at least, could get out. I think that would work.”

  “And you need me because … he’s broken?” Larsen’s voice carried its usual ugly edge as he mentioned Pike.

  Pike gave him a look over his shoulder and found Larsen’s eyes lingering on the sling.

  There was a pause. “And the admiral sent you to do this?” Larsen asked him point blank.

  Pike looked away, swallowing. “I volunteered.” He glanced back at Larsen, who was staring at him, motionless.

  “Ah,” Larsen said finally.

  “Sir?” A voice came over the comms. “A human frigate does seem to be coming within Mercury’s orbit. Sensors indicate extremely rapid deceleration.”

  “Thank you, Greer. Move us into position and speed to dock with it. Assume the other ship will not be willing.” Larsen’s voice was crisp. “All personnel are to stay aboard the King unless I give explicit instructions to follow, or unless no message is received back within twenty minutes. Once I give the all-clear, you are to de-dock and go back to Earth. Ramius will have the conn. Is that understood?”

  “Aye, sir,” said Greer.

  “Aye, sir,” Ramius added.

  Pike stood up, wiping off his hands.

  “You’re really taking this rather well,” Nhean observed behind him.

  “When I lost the other two ships, I determined that I was very likely going to die for this mission,” Larsen said simply. “This is only a variation on the theme, and I have the chance to save my crew.” He paused. “Did the admiral have any instructions for me?”

  There was an awkward silence.

  Pike cleared his throat. “She asked me to thank you for continuing this mission,” he lied. “She understood the temptation to come back with the fleet. She wanted you to know there would be no chance of survival without you being here.” It was true enough, he supposed.

  Larsen stared at him, his face inscrutable. Pike wasn’t sure if the man could tell he was lying, but after a moment, he nodded. “Thank you.” His voice sounded odd.

  Pike looked around himself, patting his pockets. “So are we ready?” he asked as he turned to head out.

  “No,” he heard Larsen say, and then something hit the back of Pike’s head, hard,
and the world went dark.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE

  Near Earth

  Aggy II

  Cockpit

  He woke sometime later and his first, resentful thought was that now his collarbone and the back of his head hurt.

  He wasn’t tied up. He had sort of expected to be. Pike pushed himself up and looked around for Larsen’s sneering face and the inevitable accusations of treason. He should, he told himself, have expected Larsen’s feelings of spite to fester.

  Larsen wasn’t there, however. No one was there. His vision was a little bit blurry—he probably had a concussion, dammit all—and all Pike could make out at first was that he was alone in a small room.

  His head really did seem to be all over the place. The next thing Pike knew, he was sitting back on the floor, leaning up against one broken wall—he’d fallen over the first time he tried to lean on it—and staring down fuzzily at a scrap of paper. The words slid around for a very long time, absolutely refusing to make any sort of sense.

  His quarters. The Aggy II. He was back in his quarters. Why?

  He tackled the task of reading in small steps. The note was handwritten, not printed out. The scrawl was unsteady. What did that mean? Pike strained to think. His next thought was noticing the sensation that he had passed out again.

  What had he been wondering about?

  The note. He looked down at it. He could making out a few words before they fled his comprehension again: Lose. Happen. Her. Care. Just a jumble in his mind—how bad had he been hit?

  “We’re going back to Earth,” said a voice.

  Rychenkov?

  What the—

  He tried to sit up.

  “Why?”

  “It’s in the note. Larsen was pretty insistent you get it.” Ry stood up from the chair he’d been seated in and left Pike in his quarters.