Star Crossed

by C. Gockel

  “Maybe there was two of them,” Fyn said. “One here in the hall, waiting for her to come out.” Or waiting for him to return?

  Halliwell looked at Fyn. “How do I look for this guy, if he is on my ship?”

  Fyn hesitated, then approached the dead enforcer. He’d taken the uniform from someone. He crouched down. “Who does this uniform belong to?”

  Carey crouched down on the other side and pulled at the name, until he could read it. “Private Stevens. He’s assigned to the fighter bay’s security detail, where the Gadi ship landed.”

  “You need to find out if anyone else is missing, sir,” Fyn said.

  “And now that we know Donovan is safe,” Carey said, “maybe we should give the Gadi this guy back?”

  Fyn wondered when the colonel would remember to throw him in the brig.

  “Come with me,” Halliwell said, heading back to the elevator. When the three of them were back in his wardroom, he turned to Fyn.

  This would be the moment he remembered, Fyn decided.

  “Now, I’m sure it won’t surprise you that you’re grounded and off any flight rotation.”

  “Did I miss something?” Carey asked.

  Halliwell ignored him. “While I understand why you didn’t tell us initially, you should have spoken up before you got married. You made a mistake. I respect the fact you’re trying to fix it. But you need to figure out where your head—and your feet are, son. And you need to do it now. We’ve got a hell of a fight ahead. I’d like you to be in it. I think you earned the right to be in it. But you won’t be fighting with us, unless you’re with us.”

  “I understand.”

  “Do you? I won’t stop you from returning to the Ojemba. Just understand, if you leave this ship, you leave Donovan. And you don’t come back. I will protect my people. You and I both know that she does not deserve what these people want to do to her. You’re with them, you’re not with her. I will erase this marriage like it never happened. I’m god on this ship and I can do it.”

  Was he being offered another chance? He hadn’t expected it. Fyn didn’t hesitate. “I’m with you, sir.”

  He didn’t know if Sara would still have him, but he still wanted to be here, with them.

  He got another one of those bore-to-the-gut looks and Halliwell got right in his face, like he did with Sara after her table walk.

  “You sure? Because you’re out of chances if you mess this one up. You dick with me or my people, I’ll make you wish you’d never been born—and not because of a damn, stupid oath.”

  To his surprise, Fyn came to attention. “I’m sure, sir.” After a short silence, he looked at Halliwell. “The only thing that bound me to the Ojemba was my word, sir.”

  “I don’t think much of oaths that bind good people to do things they know they shouldn’t. If someone is committed to a cause, the only oath they need to swear is to do their duty.”

  It was true. And on some level he’d always known it. That’s why he’d refused to become an enforcer for Kalian. He’d killed Dusan without hesitation, but he would not, he could not kill a comrade in arms. And because he would not blindly follow Kalian, he had sent him to die on Kikk.

  But once again he’d surprised Kalian by surviving.

  “Sara said she swore an oath, sir. I would like to swear this oath.”

  Halliwell looked surprised, then thoughtful. Finally he nodded.

  “Major, swear him.”

  Carey still looked confused, but he said, “Raise your right hand and repeat after me…”

  Fyn heard himself say, “I, Kiernan Fyn, do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; and that I will obey the orders of the President of the United States and the orders of the officers appointed over me, according to regulations and the Uniform Code of Military Justice. So help me God.”

  The colonel was right. This was a good oath, one that held a man to the highest standards. True faith and allegiance. Those were words to believe in.

  As Fyn lowered his arm, wondering what came next, but the intercom buzzed.

  “Colonel, the Gadi are getting restless.”

  “I’ll be right there.” He looked at Carey. “You stay with Fyn here. And you—” he pointed at Fyn. “—stay put until I get back.” He started to leave, then turned to say, “I’m going to put a security detail outside the door. It’s for your protection, just until we find the other operative.”

  Fyn didn’t like it, but he nodded. Was he supposed to salute? He tried one. It felt wrong. Must have looked wrong, too. The colonel kind of winced, then turned and left.

  Down in the fighter bay, Halliwell found a tense scene. Lots of guns and all of them pointed at the Gadi.

  Gaedon stood near the ramp of the ship, attempting to reason with the head of the security detail, but seemed relieved to see Halliwell approach. That wouldn’t last.

  “Colonel, the Leader is not happy.”

  “That makes two of us, Commander.” Halliwell looked at him for a moment. He didn’t want them to know they hadn’t caught a second guy yet, but he did want to rattle their cage. “You’ve got some people missing. I’m wondering why you didn’t mention it.”

  Gaedon’s eyes widened. He started to speak, then stopped.

  Either he was a very good actor, or someone had lied to him.

  “I’m sorry to report that one of them attacked Captain Donovan.”

  Gaedon’s skin paled. “Is the Captain…all right?”

  “She’s fine. Better than your guy. He’s dead.”

  He flinched, but held it together pretty good. “And my other man?”

  “We’ll talk about him after we talk about my men.”

  “Your men, Colonel? I don’t understand.”

  “My missing men. Their uniforms have turned up on your guys. If my men are dead…I will consider it an act of war unless you can convince me they were acting independently of the Gadi Federation. And your Leader.”

  Halliwell stared at him for a long moment before adding, “And I’m going to be damn hard to convince.”

  “May we speak privately, Colonel?”

  Halliwell wasn’t surprised to see the Gadi Leader joining the conversation. In fact, he’d been expecting it.

  “Leader…” Gaedon began, but a wave of the Leader’s hand silenced him.

  Halliwell looked around. “We can talk over there.”

  The Leader didn’t look thrilled, but he followed Halliwell to the other end of the bay. They were in sight of Halliwell’s men and his own. That was the best he was going to get.

  Halliwell looked at the man. “Well, Leader? Or should I call you Kalian?”

  He didn’t even flinch. A very cool customer.

  “Why would you think that, Colonel?”

  “I might have bought the act, but it’s just your bad luck you reminded me of someone from my world.” And his bad luck the Baroness Orczy wrote The Scarlet Pimpernel.

  He stared at Halliwell for what seemed like a long time. “I see.” Another pause. “What do we do now?”

  “Well, you tell me my men are alive and where they are. And where your last guy is hiding.” That surprised him. “And if that goes well, then we can chat about a man named General Andrew Jackson and some Barbary pirates. If things don’t go well, then we take out your six ships and move on.”

  “Are you forgetting the Dusan, Colonel?”

  “No.” He stared calmly at the Leader. “I’ll deal with them when I’m through with you.” Damn, he sounded confident.

  Helfron nodded. “I find I am curious about these pirates.”

  This time Henderson didn’t just assign Sara a team, he was one of the three guys in the subway with her. Other than a hurting heart, she felt pretty good. The Ojemba’s mickey packed quite the punch, so she got a good night’s sleep out of the deal—something that probably wouldn’t have happened otherwise. An
d the nanites had already taken care of any hangover. Too bad they couldn’t do anything about the heart.

  She touched the map and there was the obligatory green flash. It felt odd to be back in Zone Five and even odder to have company. As she passed Building Thirty-five, Henderson exchanged greetings with the jarhead guard. It was the only sign they weren’t alone in the section.

  She led them toward a building assigned the number Thirty, sitting on the edge of a kind of bay. As they approached, she could see what looked like docks jutting out into the water. Had the Garradians had boats? No surprise they hadn’t lasted five hundred years. If she had the privacy to stop and connect with the past, would she see cheerful sails out there? She still didn’t have a real clear sense about what kind of people they’d been. And she didn’t feel like they were her people, even though they were, more than she’d realized at first. Now that Sara had unlocked the city, the geeks weren’t having any trouble accessing any of the buildings. There just weren’t enough of them for all the stuff there to find.

  “So what are we looking for, Captain?” Henderson broke what had been a long silence.

  “I’m almost afraid to say, in case we jinx it.” She wouldn’t let herself think about Fyn, but he was there, on the edges of her mind, waiting for her guard to go down even slightly. It made her feel tense. She didn’t have time to wallow. The colonel needed ships. It was her job to find them and see if they still worked.

  Once inside the building, she began to feel more hopeful. The controls and consoles looked like a ship, the sea going kind. Big pipes, valves, and all sorts of gauges gave the room an unusually cluttered appearance. It smelled of the sea, too. She activated the consoles and looked at the data. So far things were looking promising. Across from the entrance was another door, but this one looked more like a submarine access hatch than a door. Henderson signaled to one of the men to turn the valve that sealed it and it opened with a metal shriek. Inside this was a small chamber and a ladder leading down to another chamber.

  That was pretty low-tech of them, Sara decided, as she waited her turn to descend. She dropped to the floor, the last one down.

  “Looks like a dead end,” Henderson said.

  It was a square, metal space, but one corner was rounded. Was that a panel next to it? Sara eased past the men and touched the panel. The rounded edge, retracted, revealing a tube.

  “Or not.” Henderson came to stand next to her. “What is that?”

  “It’s a descent tube.” Looked like they could all fit inside, though it was going to be cozy. She hoped none of them had claustrophobia.

  “Descent tube. To where?”

  Sara looked at him. “Probably the ocean floor.”

  He looked at her. Then he looked at his guys. No one cracked any expression, but Sara still got the feeling they weren’t thrilled. For that matter, she wasn’t that thrilled. This was a five hundred year old tube. It could have sprung a leak in that time. And if it hadn’t, the thought of going down in a metal tube was pretty creepy. Not to mention unnerving.

  There was a downside to going where no man had gone before.

  “All aboard.” She tried to sound cheerful. Her voice had a hollow sound, but that could be the chamber echo. No one moved. Okay. Ladies first could be the reason. Maybe. She tapped the floor with her foot. It didn’t move, so she stepped inside. It held, so she jumped up and down. She looked at the guys and shrugged.

  They climbed in and Sara touched the inside panel. She knew it was going to go down. She didn’t expect only the bottom to descend lowering them into a completely clear tube.

  “Okay, that’s a bit disturbing.” She looked at her watch. Looked like their rate of descent was being slowed to allow for changes in pressure. When they came up, they’d need to account for it, too.

  She reached out and touched the tube. It was flexible. Okay, that was a bit disturbing, too. She looked up and saw something swimming toward her. It looked rather shark-like. Its mouth opened, upping the resemblance.

  “Henderson?” Sara’s voice sounded a bit thin. “Is that a shark?”

  “Hotel Foxtrot Sierra!”

  “Charlie Foxtrot,” Givens added, his voice a bit high pitched. Sanchez started to cuss in Spanish.

  It hit the tube and they all staggered…but the tube held. Not quite a Charlie Foxtrot, Sara thought, trying to start breathing again. At least she wasn’t thinking about Fyn or broken hearts.

  “I sure hope this is worth it,” Henderson said. “There’s another one.”

  By the time they reached the ocean floor, about twenty of the creatures were circling the tube, taking turns bumping it and trying to bite them. It was a relief when it slid into an all-metal tube again.

  As Sara started to reach for the release, Henderson grabbed her arm.

  “Any way to tell if it’s still water-tight on the other side?”

  “Why do you ask?”

  He pointed down. There wasn’t a lot, but there was a bit of water on the floor. She hadn’t seen a problem up top when she’d studied the consoles, but that assumed all the sensors still worked.

  Only one way to find out. They all inhaled. Like it would help.

  She touched the panel and the door slid open.

  And they didn’t die.

  Bravo Zulu.

  It did smell damp. She pulled out her flashlight and shone it around. There was skim of water on the floor and some green on the walls.

  That was bad.

  “Where now?” Henderson’s voice echoed hollowly down the corridor.

  “Straight ahead.” Sara stepped out and the lights flickered twice, then came on and stayed on. She looked down. She was standing in a small puddle of water. She hurriedly stepped out.

  Now she walked forward, trying to avoid the puddles, just in case. The first hanger should be coming up soon…she stopped by the door. She looked at Henderson, then reached out and touched the panel.

  This door slid back. The inside was deeply dark, but at least the ocean didn’t rush out and crush them.

  Sara stepped inside and it lit up, this time without the flickers.

  “Holy Foxtrot Sierra,” Henderson said, with slow emphasis. “That is one, big ass ship.”

  Sara had to agree. It had to be at least the size of the Doolittle at its center point, but it smoothly thinned out into a shape that was clam-like. It squatted mutely in the center of the hanger, looking as unwilling to open up as a real clam.

  Henderson looked up. “How did it get here? And how did they plan to get it out?”

  Sara wasn’t sure he wanted to know that. “Let’s see if we can turn this bad boy on.”

  “Turn it on?” Henderson looked at her like she was crazy. “I can’t see how we get inside.”

  She ignored him. “There should be four, maybe five more of these hangers. Can you guys check them out?”

  She felt him looking at her and gave him a quick smile.

  “I’ll be fine. Call me on the radio, okay?”

  He looked at her for a long moment, then nodded. “Let’s go.”

  Sara heard them walk away as she moved toward the ship—the Kalifa. Not a name you could say in a hurry.

  She moved around to the rear and found the hatch. No way to tell if it had always been open or just opened for her. She walked aboard and it welcomed her with the usual light show. Once on the bridge, she did a quick check of the systems. It still worked. Holy Foxtrot Sierra.

  It took half an hour to determine the four big ships still worked. The fighters took longer, but with the four of them on it, they were ready to report in at the end of a long two hours.

  Sara activated communications. “Home Plate? This is Batter.”

  “What you got, Batter?”

  “Home run all the way, sir.”

  A pause. “That’s good news.”

  “Requesting permission to begin Operation Outfield, sir.”

  “Permission granted.”

  Henderson gave her uneasy look. “What
did he just tell us to do, ma’am?”

  Sara looked at him. “We’re going to fly one.” She turned back to the controls. “You should get your guys on board.”

  “Right. Where are we going to fly it?”

  Sara looked at him again. “To the Doolittle.”

  He cussed without the euphemisms.

  Sara kind of shrugged. “Yeah.” She smiled at him. “On the upside, you only have to make it to the surface.”

  “Make sure your tray tables are put away and your chairs are in the locked, upright position,” Sara murmured. This was either going to go really well or really badly. She wasn’t sensing a lot of support from the rear either.

  She started the propulsion module. That was the easy part.

  “Cheer up, guys. It will only hurt for a minute if it doesn’t work.”

  She activated the phase cloak. If it worked, they should be able to pass through the solid roof. If it banged into the ceiling, she’d know it didn’t.

  The throttle controlled lift, forward, back and side-to-side and down movement. All she had to do was move it the right way. No problem…

  She eased it slightly and the ship edged forward a few feet. Okay, that was forward. She found back and down. The guys didn’t like down. Probably because she banged them against the floor. Side-to-side made them nervous, too.

  “Could we try up now, ma’am,” Henderson asked.

  He might be sorry.

  “Okay.” She moved the throttle and the ship began to rise.

  It was about then that they began to wonder how the ship was going to get out.

  “Shouldn’t something open, ma’am?” That was Givens.

  Sanchez didn’t talk much, but Sara sensed his support for the question.

  “If we opened something, water would rush in and crush all the little ships,” Sara said, a little absent-mindedly. If they were going to hit something, it was going to happen in five seconds.

  …four…three…two…

  She tensed. She couldn’t help it. Apparently the guys couldn’t help it either. All three of them were cussing a blue streak.

  The ship went right through it.