Destination Alara

by S. Y. Thompson

  "Blue Leader ready," She reported, twisting the controls on the front of her O2 pack.

  "Blue Two, good to go."

  Each squad consisted of eight fighters paired in groups of two. The rest of her squad checked in followed closely by Bosk's team. In less than three minutes, Gauntlet's deadly attack forces were set.

  "Bosk, Red Leader, take point," Van commanded.

  "Understood."

  The hangar deck opened, showing the blackness of space. From the aft section of the flagship, they couldn't see any targets but that would quickly change. At the exit, a force field shimmered. The barrier protected the fighter bay from explosive decompression and the personnel from the vacuum of space. Van's mind and body abruptly settled, focused on the singular purpose to destroy the enemy before they could inflict damage on the ship or harm the crew. She didn't know who the attackers were, nor did she care.

  "Red Leader to the bridge, we're prepared to engage."

  "Understood, Red Leader. You're clear to launch. Happy hunting."

  Van listened to the exchange absently; her attention focused more on the timbre of Cade's voice. There was no doubt that the woman's body was a work of art; strong, lean and muscular in all the right places. She could picture Cade as she stretched, her arms reaching overhead and outlining the vee shape of her upper torso as it narrowed at her waist before flaring gently at the hips. The voice only completed the picture, husky and slightly breathless. It was the sort to capture the attention of anyone scanning channels that would make them pause, hoping to hear more.

  Those tones washed over her, reminding her exactly why this particular engagement was so important. She'd do anything to keep Cade safe and by extension, anyone and anything important to her. Van didn't want to think about why she felt that way, so she forced herself back to the present. Commander Bosk launched his vessel with the balance of his squad close on his tail. As soon as they were clear, it was her turn.

  Rolling forward toward the force field, she felt excitement humming in her veins. "Blue squad all set, bridge. Ready to kick ass and take names."

  "Acknowledged, Captain. Enemy spacecraft are closing at one thousand kilometers. Don't have too much fun and I expect you to come back in one piece."

  That sounded like a personal request. Van's heart thumped against her ribs but it didn't have anything to do with the upcoming battle. Then she thought she was just imagining things.

  "Keep the coffee hot."

  Van's body slammed back against the seat as she hit the throttle. The inside of Gauntlet's hangar was a condensed, transitory blur through the full-face visor. Then she was free of the ship, flying through the star-studded blackness from the aft port of the mother ship. Hauling back on the yoke, Van directed her vessel perpendicular to Gauntlet's hull. She screamed upward into the darkness, her indicator panel showing that the other pilots in her squad were tight behind her. Once clear of the flagship, she pulled back on the stick again until she was flying belly up. Van righted the ship and sighted the enemy vessels fast approaching.

  Commander Bosk and his crew were already tearing into the oncoming craft. Ruby laser blasts interspersed with titanium projectile rounds filled with Octanitrocubane, commonly known as octanitro. The compound consisted of a cube-shaped molecule of eight carbon atoms with nitro, groups of oxygen and nitrogen attached to each carbon. It didn't require an external oxygen source to decompose, meaning that it could blow up in every environment, including water and the vacuum of space. Developed originally in the 21st century, the military had of course tweaked it until it was the most powerful explosive known. Octanitro rounds weakened and then penetrated the attacking vessels' shields.

  Flying straight into the fray, Van depressed the trigger on her plasma weapon and watched the beam punch through into an oncoming ship. The vessel exploded and she witnessed a brief flare of orange and yellow as argon inside the vessel ignited, triggering a secondary explosion and leaving a green wake.

  "Got one on your five o'clock, Blue Leader."

  "On it, Raptor."

  Van's instrument panel lit up, indicating someone had acquired a lock. She rolled right and the lights faded. Then she stepped on the speed brakes and felt the straps on her seat restraints dig into her body even through the pressure suit. The enemy spacecraft wasn't prepared for the maneuver and shot past her. It was so close Van could imagine she saw the surprised look on the alien fighter's face. As soon as it screamed past, she opened up with the Octanitro rounds.

  "Good shooting." Raptor shouted over the comm channel as the craft disintegrated.

  Van was too busy to respond. Straight ahead, she saw three enemy craft closing in on a member of her squad. She shot off toward them, already planning her strategy.

  Chapter Nine

  CADE WATCHED THE fight and tried not to drum her fingers nervously on the arm of her chair. So far, Red and Blue Squads had taken out all but four of the enemy ships. It hadn't escaped her notice that the vessels bore no marks declaring loyalty to any planet or government, which meant they were pirates. That didn't make any sense. Bandits generally cobbled ships together from spare parts or battered older vessels refitted until space worthy. These were shiny new, but where would rebels get the kind of money it took for a fleet of such craft?

  However, Cade disregarded all of that as irrelevant for the moment as her eyes remained glued to Blue Squad's lead vessel. She held her breath yet again as Van threw her ship into barrel rolls so tight she could imagine the screech of straining metal. Then she'd alternately brake and accelerate so quickly it was hard to keep her in sight amid the others. She flew with her hair on fire. When the last two vessels turned tail and ran, she heard Swann order Gauntlet's squads back to homeport.

  Cade took her first easy breath when Van turned, bringing up the rear. Fortunately, she had lots of practice at appearing cool and felt confident the bridge crew hadn't noticed her trepidation. Even though she'd given the order for the dashing captain to leap into action, it hadn't been easy and she regretted it. Cade was career military. She'd stared down the barrel of alien weapons more than once. She hadn't lived this long by deluding herself. She cared a lot more for Van Swann than she should, definitely more than an admiral should for a subordinate officer on her ship. Of course, she did not intend to let Van know that. It could never go anywhere. Van was a typical cocky young officer who probably had a woman in every spaceport.

  That still didn't keep Cade from wanting to be with her. She wanted to know everything like, what was her favorite color? Had she ever thought of settling down or dating anyone seriously? Once she dropped Van off at Alara, Cade could forget about her. Right now, she'd be happy if Van just made it safely back aboard.

  "Gauntlet, prepare the tag lines. We're coming home."

  "Understood, Commander Bosk. Well done."

  One at a time, Cade watched as the fighters returned to the ship. Four Gauntlet fighters were heavily damaged, but she hadn't lost anyone. The other side couldn't say the same.

  By tradition, the leaders of each squad were the last ones to land. Van was six thousand kilometers behind her executive officer when a pirate vessel came out of nowhere. It smoked and belched gas out into space, but it kept on coming. Focused on her approach, Captain Swann didn't see the threat.

  Cade didn't even think about her actions. She thumbed the control switch on her panel, breaking into the squad's air traffic. "Van, you've got one on your tail." Even as she said it, she knew Swann was too close to Gauntlet to turn away and engage.

  "Quan, take that pirate out." Cade wanted to shout the order to the bridge tactical officer and barely refrained.

  The Mirachan tactical officer, a nineteen-year military veteran, didn't hesitate. He fired Gauntlet's forward torpedo bay. Everything happened in slow motion after that. Cade's mouth went dry, her tongue cleaving to the roof of her mouth. She watched the octanitro round speed toward the pirate vessel at the same time that it released its own deadly payload. The ordnance impacted the
craft and the shockwave quickly reached out to slap the Coalition's flagship. Cade instinctively shifted her weight, staying on her feet with her eyes pinned to the space encounter.

  A beam of ruby laser fire shot from the fighter a split second before Quan hit his mark. The weapon sliced cleanly across the rear engine ports of Van's ship. The engines erupted into a fireball, tossing the craft end over end as the concussion pitched it toward Gauntlet.

  "I'll be in the hangar deck," Cade said quickly. "Quan, you have the bridge."

  She didn't wait for a response, nor did she look back. Cade dove into the lift and keyed in her command code to force the conveyance to emergency speeds. It took seconds for the car to drop through the belly of the ship, but that was all it took to remember. After Van made love to her on Tokar's surface, a shy self-conscious expression had crossed her face. She'd looked almost relieved when Bosk interrupted before Cade could reciprocate. That expression had pierced Cade's armor, rendering a chance encounter a wealth of emotional resonance. Saral had accused her of having a crush on the diminutive captain, but it was that one unguarded moment that captured her heart. She couldn't tell Van. Her feelings would only make her uncomfortable, but she was damned if she was going to stay on the bridge when Van was in trouble.

  Cade was out of the lift, sprinting toward the main hangar before the doors finished opening properly. Aware of the startled looks as crew members darted out of her way, she ignored them and raced into chaos. The fighter still burned. Too hot to approach, Van remained pinned inside the cockpit while emergency crews worked frantically to put out the blaze. All eyes on the flaming spectacle, no one noticed as Admiral Meryan stepped close enough to cringe from the heat. She coughed just as someone shouted to increase the ventilation.

  Finally, they extinguished the fire and crews wearing padded, fire-retardant gear hurried toward the cockpit. In seconds, it was open but the ship was so damaged the cockpit hatch disengaged and clattered noisily to the ground. Cade felt dizzy with relief when she saw Van moving around. Flight techs dragged her out of the seat and quickly started stripping the pressure suit and helmet, searching for injuries.

  "I'm fine, damn it. Did we get the bastard?"

  Cade grinned and walked toward the captain, blinking back the tears in her eyes. If anyone asked, she'd blame it on the acrid smoke still rising from the remains of the fighter. With her fears calmed, she felt her heartbeat start to return to normal. Van didn't seem to have a scratch on her.

  She cleared the emotion from her throat. "Captain, do you realize how expensive those fighters are?"

  Green eyes swiveled in her direction and Cade thought she looked confused. She frowned when she realized Van appeared pale and unstable on her feet. "S...sorry ‘bout that, Admiral. Did you see? Did you notice how new their ships were? They must be organized." Van gulped. Her words slurred a little and she reached up to push the hair back from her forehead.

  "I noticed. Why don't we worry about that later? I think we need to have you checked out by medical."

  "Why is it so hot in here?"

  Cade was ready when Van slumped toward the floor, almost unconscious on her feet. Scooping her up in her arms, Cade ordered, "Advise the infirmary we're on the way."

  Van's arm slid around her shoulders, holding tight. She was close enough Cade could feel her breath in her ear. "I think I just did something involuntary...and messy."

  Cade bit her lip to keep from chuckling. Many people did lose control of their bodily functions after a trauma, but Van was clean. Besides, Van was too strong for that. Cade ignored the curious looks directed her way as she walked through the ship toward the medical bay, completely unconcerned.

  VAN PULLED HER tunic on over the white T-shirt, tugging at the hem to encourage a proper fit. She didn't mind wearing her Coalition dress uniform to the banquet since it resolved the problem of exactly what to wear. High Queen Dorma intended to give her a medal for saving the crown princess's life so it didn't take a super genius to realize military dress was the order of the day. The glint of shiny and colorful decorations almost kept her mind off Cade Meryan. Almost.

  Buttoning up the stiff, grey jacket, Van frowned, wondering again why the admiral had carried her through the bowels of her ship after she crash-landed on the hangar deck. Cade could have ordered anyone else to convey her to medical, but she didn't. She never had explained why, either. She just dropped Van off and left.

  Come to think of it, she'd pretty much avoided Van after that. When Van regained consciousness, the doctor released her to her quarters and said Cade would be in touch. She wasn't. After that, Van spent the rest of the time on Gauntlet working out in the ship's gym and hanging out in her quarters. She'd only seen Cade once since then, just as the crew exited at Psmanth. Van could have stayed in her quarters then, but she wanted to wish her crew a pleasant shore leave even though she had to return to Alara for the awards ceremony. Cade never looked her way as she smiled and thanked the departing crew members for their service. Although it had only been a little over a week since the incident, Cade's distance still stung.

  Paul was there. Van told him to be ready for her return with a new ship, but he surprised her by saying he wouldn't miss the ceremony for anything. He wanted to see her add more shiny objects to her dress uniform. Van couldn't have cared less about the ceremony. She had plenty of medals.

  At least she got a nice room in the palace out of the deal.

  Hair still wet from the shower, Van shook her head and finished buttoning her jacket. The room's comm system beeped to notify her of an incoming communiqué. She thought it was Paul checking to see that she was still going to show up.

  "Computer, receive transmission, full audio and visual."

  Van stepped in front of the monitor display with a grin, but the smart remark died on her lips. Reflexively, she looked around but they were completely alone unless the High Queen had a habit of bugging her guests. Still, she frowned in concern.

  "Commodore Grier, what are you doing contacting me here?"

  "Careful, Swann. You might give me the impression that you're avoiding me."

  A smile tugged at the corners of narrow pink lips and laser blue eyes bored into Van's even over the long distance connection. Grier's blonde hair and rosy cheeks made her look like the girl next door, but Van had it on good authority that Erika Grier was one of the Coalition's most ruthless intelligence operatives at one time. Now, she filled the bill as Van's contact and direct supervisor but that didn't mean she was any less dangerous.

  "It's not that, ma'am. I'm just not sure how secure these quarters are."

  "Relax, this signal is encrypted and we've already swept the room for listening devices."

  Van didn't bother to ask when these security measures had taken place. "What can I do for you, then? I don't mean to be rude, but I'm due downstairs in less than an hour."

  "Yes, I heard all about Admiral Meryan's daring rescue and that congratulations are in order. Nice job on that, by the way."

  Wondering if she could possibly mean something else entirely, Van refrained from speaking but couldn't hide the blush.

  "I read your mission report and apparently you not only saved the Queen's daughter from Gothoan rebels, but also an entire fleet of pirates." Her amused tone was slightly mocking.

  "I was in the neighborhood. Did you call for a particular reason or just to bust my chops?"

  Erika smiled and relented. "Actually, I wanted your take on all of this. I'm sure everything is in the report, but an official document doesn't allow much room for speculation and frankly, I'm concerned. First, there's the maniac with an army in an underground base on Tokar."

  "Not just any maniac," Van interrupted. "A Gothoan maniac who's clearly well-funded if the looks of that base are anything to go by."

  "You think he's getting assistance from his government?"

  "It's more than that. I think he is part of their military. I swear there's something familiar about him. There's also the disti
nct possibility that he's using the Phantoms on Tokar to do his dirty work. They're the ones who initially attacked Admiral Meryan's team and then kidnapped her."

  Erika looked shocked by the idea. "I thought the Phantoms nothing more than mindless killers and scavengers. How's that possible?"

  "I don't know, but there's more. You can't tell me those pirates waiting for us at the asteroid field were a coincidence."

  "So you believe they're collaborating." This idea didn't seem as surprising and Van wondered if Erika had already thought of it.

  "Possibly. What I do know is that most pirates can't afford one brand new ship, let alone a fleet of them."

  Erika nodded. "That's true. They don't typically band together in large numbers either."

  Van cast a glance toward the chronometer on the wall and then pulled a drying comb through her hair, hoping Erika would take a hint. She didn't want to be late for her own award ceremony. More importantly, Cade would be there.

  "You did well on your assignment, losing the Falcon notwithstanding."

  "Thanks for reminding me," Van mumbled, but the commodore went on as though she didn't hear.

  "Now we know Gothos is planning to attack and they might have some new friends to help with that. We just don't know when, where or how."

  Something in her expression made Van cringe. "Let me guess, you already have my next job lined up."

  "That's one of the things I love about you. You're so perceptive. Only this isn't going to be what you think."