Flight of the Javelin: The Complete Series: A Space Opera Box Set

by Rachel Aukes

  She glanced at a clock on the wall. “It’s time. We should head up.”

  The group walked through the docking bay that looked every bit the aftermath of a battle scene. It was a flurry of activity, with Peacekeepers and contractors working on everything from repairing a patched hull breach to scrubbing blood off the floors.

  They entered the elevator, and Throttle tapped the icon with a number eight. The elevator was smooth—she could never tell when it was moving or not, likely because the electromagnetic field was kept so much lower in all of the vertical passageways. A few seconds passed in silence before the door opened on level eight.

  Throttle led the way through the hallway that was bustling with as much activity as had been in the docking bay. On this level, she saw people only in Peacekeeper uniforms. It seemed there were policies against allowing independent contractors on the highest two levels.

  She led them to a wing she’d never been down before, and she had to follow the signs on the wall to locate Officer Medical Room Three. The door was open, so she walked straight in. Med bay was on level five, but there were several small private medical rooms on level eight for the officers.

  Chief Roux lay semi-upright in a bed in the center of the room. A medical specialist was checking his vitals while one of the specialists from the command center—the one named Meghan—sat at his side, focused on a tablet.

  Throttle and her team waited as the medical specialist finished taking Chief’s vitals. Beyond them was a window, through which she could see the Chinese reclamation ship slowly pulling the Wu Zetian into its massive maw, preparing for a return trip to Sol.

  “Everything’s looking good for an on-track recovery, Chief. I’ll stop back in one hour,” the medical specialist said and then walked around Throttle’s team on his way out of the room.

  “Hello, Chief,” Throttle said as she walked deeper into the room. “You wanted to see us?”

  Chief motioned them closer. “Thanks for coming. I’ve wanted to connect with everyone who was on Free Station this week. Meghan here has been helping by scheduling everyone into ten-minute slots, which isn’t nearly enough time, but it’s the only way with all the work underway.”

  He looked across the four faces. “Each of you played a crucial role in saving the lives of everyone here on Free Station. The Galactic Peacekeepers—and I—thank you. For your bravery, I have a Galactic Peacekeeper Distinguished Service commendation for each of you. I apologize for not standing and for not having a ceremony, but truth be told, I’ve never been one for ceremonies—not when we have plenty of other things to be doing.”

  Meghan stood and handed a ribbon to each of them as Chief continued speaking. “Marshal Reyne and Marshal Martin, thank you for leading the way to reclaiming Free Station. Your courage is exemplary. Specialist Martin, thank you for taking Atlas out of the hands of criminals and thus enabling us to launch a counterattack without our every move being watched. Specialist Edwards, thank you for your courage and fearlessness in venturing into an unknown situation alone and deactivating the explosives. You saved all of our lives.”

  Eddy stood proud but held up a hand. “Thank you, Chief, but I’m not a specialist. I haven’t passed my exams yet.”

  Chief smiled. “From what I hear, you were outnumbered two to one, and you shot and killed both pirates. I’d say that more than qualifies for a passing score on your firearms exam. Welcome to the Peacekeepers, Specialist Edwards.”

  Meghan handed Eddy the Peacekeeper patch.

  Eddy looked at it, then looked at the patch Sylvian wore, and frowned. “Why is she a specialist two, and I’m only a specialist one?”

  Chief smirked. “I saw how you took out those two pirates. I think a specialist level one is a good fit for you at this time.”

  Eddy took the patch and mumbled a thank you as he placed it on his shoulder, careful to make sure it was positioned perfectly.

  “Hey, Chief,” Punch said as he walked into the room. When he saw the other people in the room, he held up a hand. “I’ll just stop back in a bit.”

  Finn sneered, and Sylvian placed a hand on his forearm. Punch noticed and stared back at the other marshal.

  “No. Stay. I’m just running a little behind, and it saves me from having to repeat myself,” Chief said to Punch before looking across all the faces in the room. “We have learned much from the pirates attacking Free Station. We learned that Atlas can be too easily hijacked and that our security protocols on this station are lax. We Peacekeepers were overly confident. Our hubris is the reason for the losses we’ve suffered. We believed no one would go against us because we are the de facto protection force in this system. We’ve been proven wrong, tragically so. Anna East’s plan was simple and flawed, yet she very nearly succeeded. It was only by chance that Free Station still stands.

  “East came here to manipulate data within Atlas, but they had to adjust their plans when they found a crucial piece of technology missing—a naive Bayse router. They had to then make manual updates, which will be easy for us to locate and back out, but it will take time. I don’t know where that router is or how they lost it, but we can only hope it does not turn up on the black market and end up in the wrong hands.”

  Eddy began, “It won’t because—”

  Throttle interrupted. “Pete’s cargo hold was damaged when we pulled it into our cargo hold. Several crates were lost, and I’d bet that router was one of them.” She noticed Punch eying her like he saw through her, and she tried to ignore him.

  “We can only hope. However, I will place the router on the stolen goods list so that we can keep an eye out for it,” Chief said; then his lips thinned. “During the attack, we learned that our technology and security have a great many holes, including ones that our own staff could use. We’ve begun to patch our systems.” He looked at Punch. “The Bones files are no longer viable. While using those files helped in our fight against the pirates, they also go against everything the Peacekeepers stand for. As of now, Marshal Durand, you’ve been demoted from a senior-level marshal to an intermediate level. Your pay and benefits will immediately reflect the change. You’re fortunate that I’m only demoting you. If I’d discovered you had those files at any other time, you would’ve been fired. I advise that you don’t do anything foolish like that again.”

  “I won’t, Chief,” Punch said with a stoic expression.

  Sylvian turned to eye the marshal, and they seemed to share a secret in that gaze. Throttle made a mental note to ask her friend about it when they were back on board the Javelin.

  “Also, Punch, as of now, you are not allowed to take on any solo missions. You will only work with other marshals until I know I can trust you.”

  Punch’s gaze narrowed. “You can trust me, Chief.”

  “No, I can’t. I used to trust you, but after you pulled that Bones stunt, I can’t trust you.”

  Punch scowled and looked away.

  “And that brings me to why I had these two meetings overlap,” Chief continued.

  Throttle stiffened as she guessed what he was about to say.

  “I have a simple yet urgent mission. A young girl, Sophia Mercier, was presumably kidnapped by Pete Antonov.”

  “Mercier? Any relation to Cat Mercier?” Punch asked.

  Chief nodded. “Sophia is her niece and was Antonov’s leverage against Cat. Cat believed her niece was still alive and being held by Jaders. Since Punch has worked with Sylvian before, I feel comfortable in having the five of you work as a Peacekeeper team.”

  “Hell no,” Finn gritted out. “He’s a loose cannon. He’s reckless and almost got Sylvian—and all of us killed.”

  “And that’s why he needs to be a part of a full team, to help him remember that the Peacekeepers are a unified force.”

  “Chief, put me on administrative leave. Not on a team,” Punch offered.

  “No. In fact, I’ve already placed a restraining cable on the High Spirit.”

  Throttle’s heart was beating harder. �
��Chief, my team has worked together for years. Adding a new member—especially Punch—will hurt our dynamics.”

  “I’m not that hard to get along with,” Punch inserted.

  “Yeah, you are,” Throttle said before adding, “Besides, the Javelin is fully crewed. We don’t need another marshal on board.”

  “I’ve been on the Javelin, and I saw at least one empty cabin,” Chief said.

  “But it’s not Peacekeeper property. It’s my ship, and I’m the captain. I don’t want him on my crew,” Throttle countered.

  “As long as you’re using it for GP business, it is used following GP procedures,” Chief said. “And those procedures state that the director can add team members to any crew if it benefits the GP’s directive. You used the Bones file, and I could fire you for that. Instead, I’m putting all of you together.”

  Throttle gritted her teeth and forced out the words, “Yes, Chief.”

  “I expect you to head out immediately. If Sophia is still alive, she’ll likely be sold if she hasn’t been already. Since Atlas is still down, Meghan has copied all the information on Sophia and Pete Antonov’s connections onto a memory card for you. By the time you get back, we should have new Atlas chips for each of you and for your ship.”

  “We’d prefer to go without if that’s an option,” Throttle said.

  “That’s not an option. Atlas is the GP system of record. Being connected is mandatory for all Peacekeepers and their ships,” Chief said.

  Throttle sighed. “Will that be all?”

  Chief nodded. “You can head out as soon as the Javelin is ready and all crew are on board.”

  “If you’re done beating on me, I need to move my things from the High Spirit to the Javelin,” Punch said.

  “You can go,” Chief said.

  “See you on board,” Finn practically growled at Punch.

  Punch sneered. “Can’t wait,” he said and left the room.

  “We’ll report in once we find Sophia, Chief,” Throttle said and turned away.

  “One more thing,” Chief said.

  She sighed and turned back to face him. With Chief, there was always one more thing. “Yes?”

  “We’ve arrested forty-six pirates who were involved with the invasion. One of those pirates came from the Trappist system.”

  Throttle stood straighter.

  “The ghost?” Sylvian uttered lightly.

  Throttle’s lips curled into a snarl. “Hinze.”

  Chief nodded. “He will stand trial, just like all the others, but I thought you should know.”

  Throttle glanced across the faces of her crew and saw they all bore the same venomous expression.

  “Thanks,” Throttle said.

  None of the four spoke as they made their way to the brig. Throttle’s mind raced with memories of Finn and Sylvian’s wedding and the fire that followed. Images of human shapes burning within the fire and echoes of their screams were still as crisp and searing as the day it’d happened. The same with the face of the Trappist who’d planted the bomb.

  The bomb had been intended for Throttle and her entire crew. It’d been purely by chance that she’d stepped away to talk with Aubree. Finn and Sylvian had left to consummate their vows, and Eddy had returned to the Javelin. Their luck had saved them that day. They’d all lost dear friends in that fire, and they all wanted vengeance. That was likely why every single one of them strode with purpose to the station’s jail on level seven.

  They entered the jail wing to find it overcrowded, smelly, and noisy. Each cell usually held one inmate. Right now, four pirates were crammed into each cell. Three times the usual number of marshals stood on duty. Throttle took the lead down the hallway. Finn walked alongside Sylvian, which Throttle knew he did out of his need to always protect her even though it drove her crazy. Eddy lingered behind, his anger giving way to trepidation when they came into proximity of the pirates.

  Throttle slowed as they walked past each cell, searching for the face she’d never forget. Some pirates sneered and threw out obscenities. Others were quiet, having seemingly accepted their fate. The young pirate they’d caught on level eight sat on a cot, looking younger and more lost than ever. Throttle wondered how easily she could’ve been that kid if she’d been found by someone other than the man who’d become her adoptive father.

  She continued forward, then paused. A familiar sensation had prickled her skin, a sensation she remembered feeling often back on the Gabriela, the colonization ship she’d captained to the Ross system. It was the feeling of being watched. Everyone on the crew had experienced the same feeling, enough so that they’d jokingly blamed it on a ghost. It was only after they’d reached the Ross system that they’d learned they’d had a stowaway watching them the entire time. A radical-turned-murderer named Al Hinze.

  Throttle’s crew hadn’t been Hinze’s first victims.

  She turned back to the cell she’d just passed. Her gaze narrowed on the pirate skulking in the back corner. Even in the well-lit cell, he seemed to blend into his surroundings. His head was lowered, but she could tell he was watching her.

  He hadn’t changed. He was still a mess of dirty clothes and wild, greasy hair.

  She stepped closer. “Hello, Hinze.”

  His head slowly rose. He bore that same sneer that he always seemed to wear. “Come to gloat?”

  “No,” she said.

  Finn walked up to the cell bars. The other three pirates in the cell stepped back. “If you weren’t in there, I’d take you apart one piece at a time,” the marshal said.

  “Still holding a grudge for that wedding gift I gave you?” Hinze asked.

  “You’re a bastard,” Sylvian spat out. “You deserve to die for what you’ve done.”

  Hinze shrugged. “You mean for killing off a few guys who helped destroy the first ship I crewed on? They deserved to die. You all deserve to die.”

  “I hate you. You killed my best friend,” Eddy said and rushed away, leaving the jail.

  Hinze chuckled. “That engineer was always a little off.”

  “You don’t get to act like you know us,” Throttle said. “You slink around like a snake for fifteen years, spying on us, but that doesn’t mean you know us.”

  Hinze took several steps closer. “I know each of you better than you know yourselves.” He pointed at Sylvian. “I saw you cry every night you were awake because you hate to be alone so much.” He pointed at Finn. “I saw you rummage through the passengers’ bags because you thought everyone was going to figure out that you were a dromadier. I figured you out right away. I knew you were one of those cocksuckers as soon as I saw you.” He turned to Throttle. “And you, I watched you most of all. I saw you fighting your insecurities. All that running and practice and reading you did just to try to make yourself good enough. Well, you’re not good enough. You never were, and you never will be. You let the Gabriela get taken from you without even putting up a fight. You deserved losing your people, and you all should’ve died because you’re no good to anyone.”

  Throttle watched Hinze for a moment. “You’re so full of piss and vinegar now. You lash out at people, hoping to hurt them because you’re hurting. Your insides are all rotted out from things you’ve done or seen or thought. I don’t know which, and I don’t care. You’re just a shell of a human who can only feel something when you hurt others. But you can’t get your fix anymore. Now you’re just a rat in a cage, left with only yourself to watch in the mirror.”

  Hinze scowled. “I’ll get out of here, and when I do, I’m going to kill you. All of you.”

  “I hope you do get out of there,” Throttle said. “Because I very much look forward to not having these bars between us.”

  She didn’t say anything else. She left the unvoiced threat in the air. She glanced at Finn and Sylvian, and the three of them left the ghost where he couldn’t hurt anyone else.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  “Throttle, Marshal Durand is trying to open the airlock,” Rusty said.
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  Throttle’s eye twitched while she considered her options. She didn’t trust Punch, but he was a part of her crew. She grumbled to herself before replying to Rusty, “Punch is going to be a part of the crew for a time. Give him enough access to function, but I don’t want him to have access to change any of your systems. Do you know what I mean, Rusty?”

  “I think I do. I’ve granted him crew access minus administrative privileges.”

  Sylvian turned to Throttle. “That’s probably a good idea.”

  Throttle heard the airlock open and bootsteps coming toward the bridge. She ran the final preflight check and submitted the flight plan just before Punch stepped onto the bridge.

  “Which bunk is mine?” he asked without any sort of greeting.

  “There are two unused cabins, but Finn’s converted one into a training room. You’ll see which one you can take,” Throttle answered and then turned her seat to face him. He carried one duffel bag, though two other large bags sat on the floor behind him. “Welcome to the crew.”

  “It’s just temporary,” he said. “Chief does this. I screw up, he slaps my hand, and then everything goes back to normal. You won’t have me in your hair too long.”

  She eyed him. “Good, because I’m not convinced you can play well with others, and the only way a crew can function is if everyone works together as a team.”

  He smirked. “I’ll try to play well, or at least fake it.”

  “I hope you can fake it well, because you’re on my crew. I’m the captain of the Javelin, and as long as you’re flying on my ship, you’re serving on my crew. You’ll do what I say, or else we’re going to have problems. When we’re off the ship, we’re both marshals out there, but on here, you’re a member of my crew. Got it?”

  He watched her for a moment. “I’ll defer to you, Captain.”

  She nodded toward the hallway. “Find your bunk and get settled in. We’re launching in ten minutes.”

  “Aye, aye, Captain,” he said and strode off the bridge.

  “If he’s a part of the crew, does that make him a Black Sheep, too?” Sylvian asked.