The weight of the gun felt awkward as he ran. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d worn it on the station, other than for ceremonial reasons. Did he really need it? He hoped not, but instinct suggested otherwise.
Marsh shoved his way into the command room, then stopped dead. Half the room were on their feet. Davies, the weapons officer, was being held down by two other men. Alisha stood just in front of him, face red with anger. She spun round, pointing a finger at Marsh and advancing on him rapidly.
“Did you do it?” she demanded. “Did you order Davies to fire on any ship that approached us?”
Marsh nodded. “Yes. I take it he had to execute that order?”
“No, he damn well didn’t have to. But he did. He destroyed a ship that I had promised safe passage to. They had children. One was really sick with appendicitis. We could have saved her. But he killed them all.”
“You’d promised them safe passage?”
“Yes.” Her voice turned defensive now. “I had to. There were only a few of them. We would have put them into isolation, of course, but we could have saved the little girl. I couldn’t turn them away.”
“Yes, you could, and you should have. My orders were clear. No one and nothing was to be allowed close to the station. I gave Davies his orders as a backup. That was obviously the right thing to do.”
“We could have saved them! It would have been safe!”
She was shouting now. Marsh couldn’t help doing the same.
“No, it wouldn’t! We have no idea how the Taint is spread, or even what it is. We don’t know if medical isolation procedures would make any difference. The only things we know for certain is that it’s highly contagious and maintaining complete isolation from everyone and everything will keep us safe. You put that in danger. You ignored the order I gave.”
“Because the order was wrong! We can’t keep killing innocent people just in case. Most of what we know about the Taint is speculation and third hand hearsay. We can’t let people die when they don’t need to.”
“You have no facts to back that up. Some of the reports say that it can spread even without direct contact.”
“None of those are reliable.”
“That’s enough. This is my station. I give the orders. I say that nothing is coming close enough to pose a danger to our people and to the supply operation.”
“Maybe it shouldn’t be your station.”
She said the words quietly, but they carried across the room. Everyone went still.
“What?” Marsh kept his own voice low, but there was a dangerous edge to it.
“You’ve been pushing yourself too hard for too long. I think it’s affected your judgement, and I’m sure I can find a doctor that will agree.” Now she raised her voice, confidence filling it. “I am relieving you of command on medical grounds, Commander. You will be confined to your quarters or sickbay until the doctors and I are happy you have recovered.”
Marsh bit down on the angry response that welled up from inside. Damn! He was still tired, too tired for this. He let his instincts free. The room was clearly split. A significant number looked to be backing Alisha, while a smaller number showed anger at her words. Some just looked confused and upset by the situation.
This was going to be bad. If he refused then it could turn ugly. Very ugly. But if he didn’t then Alisha would be left in charge, and this time there would be no Davies to protect the station. Alisha might get lucky once or twice, maybe even a few times, but sometime soon the Taint would reach Greenseed. Then everyone would be lost.
Still… Marsh was tempted to give in. To let her take the responsibility. Some time spent resting in his quarters didn’t sound like such a bad idea.
“Alisha,” he said quietly. “You do understand what you’re doing, don’t you? The penalty for mutiny is death. Even if a court decided you’d acted correctly you’d be facing life in prison. We’re all under incredible pressure. I’m willing to leave this off the official record. Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Yes. I’m sorry, Commander, I can’t see any other way.”
“Nor can I,” he replied sadly.
The boom of his pistol firing punctuated the sentence. He’d taken hold of it while talking, letting his jacket hide what he was doing.
His shot was true, right between her eyes. He’d always been a good shot and she’d only been standing a few feet away. As Alisha collapsed to the floor, he quickly scanned the room. Most of his people were in shock, but some were already showing signs of active rebellion. He punched a red button beside the door and gave the order he’d hoped never to need.
“Security to the Command Room. Code black.”
Then he raised his pistol. Not threatening anyone directly, but making it clear he’d use it if necessary. There were still nine shots. That should be enough to hold until security arrived.
Several of those who’d backed Alisha exchanged glances. None seemed willing to take the lead, to die for their convictions. Marsh knew in that moment he had them, at least for long enough. His biggest worry now was if someone else in the room was armed and got off a shot before he could drop them. Then panic would break out. If the guards came running into that situation it could turn into a bloodbath.
Marsh kept his eyes flicking rapidly across the room. Adrenaline had pushed aside all hint of tiredness, though he knew there’d be a price to pay later. He kept the gun moving slowly, not aiming it at anyone but letting it keep everyone’s attention.
As the seconds ticked by he started to think things might work out. He realised with surprise that he was enjoying himself. For the first time in far too long he was on the edge again, facing down a potential threat. It wasn’t the same as commanding a warship in battle, but it was closer than he’d been in far too long. Despite the dangers, the situation was actually a relief. After so many days of unending worry it felt good to be doing something decisive, even if it was holding his own staff at gunpoint. The absurdity of the situation almost made him smile.
Movement! One of the younger officers leapt forward, charging towards Marsh. He hadn’t even made it halfway before Marsh had him at the wrong end of the gun. His eyes widened and he started to slow, realising he stood no chance of making it. All thought of attack had fled, replaced by fear that radiated off him.
Marsh didn’t hesitate. He fired twice, both shots striking the officer’s body. Probably fatal, definitely enough to seriously injure. Either way he was no threat now. Before his body hit the floor Marsh had the gun swinging to cover the room again.
Shocked faces stared back at Marsh. That suited him fine. Shock bought more time. Few of them, if any, would understand instinctively that the officer had left Marsh with no choice. If Marsh hadn’t fired, if he’d tried to fight some other way, then others would have gained confidence, would have joined in. Soon Marsh would either be shooting many of them as he tried to fall back or he’d be overwhelmed, which would lead the security forces into a firefight when they arrived. Shooting the young officer greatly increased the chances of everyone else surviving.
More seconds ticked away. Some of those he faced down still looked shell-shocked, but others were beginning to get restless. Marsh kept his face impassive, but cursed inside. Where was security? He’d shoot someone else if he had to, but he’d rather avoid it. A handful of seconds in a combat situation could feel far longer, but even so security seemed to be taking forever.
Another of the younger officers tensed. Marsh swung the gun to cover her and shook his head. She relaxed slightly, but not enough. Marsh sensed others tensing too. He got ready to bolt for the doors.
Then, in an explosion of shouting, security was there. Only three guards, but all armed with assault rifles. The dynamic in the room changed completely. Everyone cowered back from the black garbed guards. Marsh’s years of training meant he didn’t end up shooting when they burst in, but even his heart rate jumped.
“Put the gun down slowly,” one of the guards shouted.
Marsh nodded and slowly lowered it to the floor. Even if they’d recognised him, which they might not have yet, a code black meant all weapons had to be surrendered. More guards soon arrived, including an officer who quickly went through the formality of confirming Marsh’s identity. Guards spread out through the room. Marsh called the guard officer over.
“We need someone monitoring for incoming ships. Get Davies over here. He can monitor things from my chair for now.”
He pointed out Davies and the officer dispatched a guard to fetch him. Davies approached and gave Marsh a sharp salute.
“Very impressive, Commander. What do you need me to do?”
“Take over on watch until we can sort this mess out. You can use my chair.”
“Aye, Sir.”
Davies moved off quickly, already focused on his task. Definitely a steady hand, Marsh thought. He looked to the wider room. The guards had finished checking everyone for weapons and were now standing watch. Marsh would have to identify those he knew to be a risk, and try to make a call on the others. The station was already short-handed for the intense shifts they were running. This was only going to make things worse.
As management duties started to occupy his thoughts the martial state of mind slipped away, and for the first time he truly thought about what he had just done. He’d killed two of his own officers. Alisha, who had stood beside him for several years, and a young officer whose name he couldn’t even recall. With the adrenaline draining from his system it was payback time.
He almost collapsed where he stood. That couldn’t be allowed. Instead, he forced his legs to work. He strode into his office, where only a few hours earlier he’d made the disastrous decision to let Alisha cover while he slept. As soon as the room was sealed, hiding him from everyone’s view, he collapsed into his chair and held his head in his hands. Just what had he become? What had they all become? The danger of the Taint, and the fear that went with it, was turning them into something he didn’t recognise. Turning him into something he didn’t recognise.
How much longer could they last before the station started to tear itself apart? And was the same thing happening across the whole Empire? What little hope he had left was pinned on the Empire riding to the rescue with a solution. If he was honest with himself he doubted it would happen in time to save Greenseed, but he’d been sure the Empire would come through in the end.
But what if he was wrong? What if the entire Empire was tearing itself apart? Could humanity survive, or was its span now measured in decades or even just years?
Chapter 16
As the two stealth ships closed in on the Wanderer, Sal knew it was over. The Wanderer had no shields left, and it couldn’t put up any defence against the stealth ships let alone the immense warship which had inflicted the crippling blow.
The jump engines were still functioning. If the Wanderer had any shields left they could jump to safety. Without shields it would be a death sentence, and through her link to the Wanderer she knew even minimal shields would take minutes to restore.
She sensed the Wanderer preparing to jump. There wasn’t time to become properly scared, not deep in the bone scared, but her stomach clenched. Then they made the jump. At least they didn’t capture us… she thought as she tensed against the pain that was to come.
* * *
It took Sal long moments to realise that not only was she alive, but that the Wanderer was still in jump space and still in one piece. How could that be with no… shields! They had shields! They weren’t very strong, certainly not enough to withstand weapons fire, yet they were more than enough to survive in jump space.
But how? She checked and found her previous assessment was correct. The shields would take several minutes at least to repair. The normal shields. The shields she’d known about. But there were new shields. All over the ship secondary shield generators were operating.
The statistics for the new generators flowed into her mind from the ship. Being very low powered meant they could go from off to fully active in fractions of a second, far faster than normal shields. They’d activated just as the Wanderer clawed its way into jump space, and were fully active by the time it made it there a few hundredths of a second later.
For the moment Sal had forgotten all her anger with Jess. All she could do was smile at the audacity of his plan, and the fact he’d kept it quiet from everyone. Clearly this was another of his little changes to the Wanderer he’d wanted to surprise them all with. Well, he’d definitely managed that. Sal composed a short message to Jess. Short, but to the point.
Well, I bet you’re feeling smug right now!
* * *
Jess laughed at Sal’s message. Smug? A little maybe, but far more relieved. He hadn’t been sure the backup shields would work fast enough, but activating them in front of the Imperial ships was out of the question. A single shot would have been enough to wreck the shields, and with it all hope of escaping through jump space.
The laugh soon faded. The Wanderer had taken heavy damage and those on board hadn’t fared much better. Ali was still unconscious. Sal was shaken up and would have some bruises, but otherwise she was fine. Teeko had proven to be surprisingly tough once again, and had kept Ben shielded from the worst of the effects.
That left Dash. Jess contacted the shuttle and activated its cabin sensors. Jess breathed a sigh of relief on seeing Dash was strapped into the pilot’s seat. He wasn’t happy about Dash still being aboard, but he’d half expected to see a mangled corpse. Anyone not secured during the fight would have multiple fractures at the very least, and probably a lot worse.
Looking closer, Jess realised Dash hadn’t escaped unharmed. He was conscious but dazed, his eyes glazed over. Jess sent a robot to get Dash out of the shuttle so the Wanderer could start on his injuries too.
With that taken care of, Jess had the ship release him and the others from the protective cocoons he had improvised. He stretched awkwardly, only now becoming aware of the many aches and bruises he’d picked up during the battle. He managed to reach a sitting position but that hurt enough to discourage him from trying to stand for a few minutes.
Closing his eyes he turned his attention back to the ship. The damage to the main hold was extensive. He focused on the most pressing issues… reinforcing the structure, getting the shields back online and the damaged thrusters repaired.
It soon became obvious they needed more of some resources than the Wanderer currently carried, especially certain metals. They needed to go asteroid mining again. Jess pulled up the map of local systems to see what options were available.
First, he looked at where the Wanderer was. When they’d entered jump he’d been focusing purely on getting away, not on any destination. Their path was actually bringing them slowly closer to the Quarantine Zone. Very slowly. Checking the map, Jess found a system with a suitable asteroid belt which was on a much more direct path.
Jess had the Wanderer slowly curve round on to the new path, smiling as he did so. He was certain the Imperial fleet would be following not far behind. With no way to track the Wanderer they would just keep going on the wrong course for days before realising they’d lost their prey. Even then they wouldn’t have any idea where the Wanderer had really gone. At least that was one less thing to worry about.
* * *
Dash tried to look over as the shuttle’s door opened but gave up with a groan of pain. His head ached horrifically and his body wasn’t any better.
Soft footsteps covered the short distance from the hatch to his seat. Dash was surprised for a moment to see it was one of the Wanderer’s robots, then realised he shouldn’t be. These robots were nothing like any he’d seen before. Sleek and almost organic in their movements, they packed a huge punch. They also moved far more quietly than any other robot he’d heard of.
Panic started to filter through his confused mind. Had Jess sent the robot to finish him off? Long blades flicked out of the robot’s right hand, turning Dash’s panic into outright fear. He tr
ied to struggle but the robot easily held him in place with its other hand. The blades flickered towards Dash’s chest then sliced from one side to the other… but he felt no pain.
The blades flicked away again and the robot peeled back the tattered remains of the seat’s straps, then eased Dash out of the seat. Its touch was extremely gentle, but Dash still hissed in pain. Everything span as he was carried from the shuttle and laid on the floor. The robot leaned over, pushing firmly on Dash’s head and chest to hold him in place.
Dash felt something tickling its way along his neck. He tried to struggle, but it was useless. A feeling of icy coldness flowed into his mind, sweeping consciousness before it.
Chapter 17
Admiral Vorn frowned as the Wanderer vanished into jump space. He checked the displays again. The Wanderer’s shields had definitely been offline. Entering jump space without shields meant certain destruction.
For normal ships. The Wanderer had already shown itself to be far from normal. Vorn was certain the ship had survived, though he couldn’t imagine how. Catching the Wanderer was going to be much harder than he’d thought, but the rewards of doing so would be even greater.
On his displays the blazing signature of the Wanderer’s jump formed a tantalising signpost pointing the way, one he had to ignore for the moment. While commanding a massive fleet had many advantages, being able to respond rapidly wasn’t one of them, especially when that fleet was engaged in combat. He entered the command to address the fleet.
“All detached ships, reform immediately on the Starslayer. All ships engage in suppression fire only. Prepare for immediate jump. All Banshees de-cloak for close manoeuvres.”
Killing the circuit, he addressed the Starslayer’s captain.
“Captain, we will be following the Wanderer as soon as the fleet has formed up.”
Wanderer's Odyssey - Books 1 to 3: The Epic Space Opera Series Begins Page 59
