“Selfish. So goddamned selfish.” Wilco slid his front foot forward and pivoted his back, signaling a coming shift in weight, a possible attack or readying for a defensive maneuver. “They leave. Don’t have to deal with any of this.” He gestured to everything, to life. “Just pile more on us when they kick off. And they act like it’s a selfless thing they’re doing, leaving us to do all the work.”
Wilco lunged. Hep almost didn’t see it, the subtle twist of Wilco’s back foot that shifted his trajectory a few degrees. He cut to Hep’s right after beginning on a direct approach. Though he saw it happen, Hep noticed it too late to act. All he could do was try to mitigate the damage.
Wilco’s sword sliced at a downward angle toward Hep’s thigh. Cut the femoral artery and let him bleed out. Wilco was smart. Hep lifted his leg, hoping to only get sliced across the shin. Maybe he’d only lose his foot instead of dying altogether. It was a macabre math. An equation that Wilco solved faster than Hep and reached a different conclusion. He halted his sword slash, shifting his power, and jabbed Hep in the throat with the edge of his open hand.
The edges of Hep’s vision went dark and hazy. He dropped to his knees, gasping for air. He tried to grip his sword, but Wilco kicked it out of his hand.
Wilco stood over him, his blade pointed at Hep’s chest. “You’re the worst of them. The selfish bastards. You think everything you do is for the greater good. So self-righteous. The way you talk to me. I see it. I see how you try to get me to follow along on your supposed righteous path. I would sooner cut you all down and dye that path red.”
Hep heaved. He sucked in a cooling breath and found his voice. “Wrong.” He coughed. “Not what I’m doing. I agree with you. No tricks.”
Wilco twitched his head to the side, unsure how to take Hep’s assertion.
“I’ve tried to follow a path for years,” Hep said. “And it’s only brought me trouble. The one time I did for me, screw the rest, was when I did what I thought you would. I got myself a ship. Got a crew. Set out on my own. And I was the happiest I’ve ever been.” Noticing Wilco’s blade lower, Hep struggled to his feet. “And you ruined it. Joined up with Ayala, got yourself a cause to fight for, rallied people to your side. You started all this, not me.”
Wilco’s sword rose a little higher. “I wanted Tirseer dead.” He gestured angrily at his scarred face. “For doing this. For mutilating me. Turning me into some goddamn science experiment.”
“Why did she even have the chance to do that? Because you jumped out of a goddamn spaceship just as it was about to go supernova to save Bayne’s life. Because you did what you’ve always done.”
Wilco’s face twisted up as he tried to comprehend what Hep was saying.
“You protected someone,” Hep said. “Underneath all the bravado and the bloodlust, you are a protector.”
A fist smashed into the side of Hep’s head. The world spun around him. He forgot for a moment where he was.
“Protected me my whole life,” Hep said. “Kept me alive. Made me strong.” Another fist across the other side of his face. He tasted blood in his mouth now. “And you kept me from doing the things that would…turn me into you.”
Hep braced for another fist. None came. He spit a mouthful of blood on the floor. He sat back on his heels and let his hands hang at his side. He looked up at a face he knew intimately. The face of his childhood. His family. And a face that was a stranger to him. Not because of the scars and burned tissue, but because of his eyes. In all his memories of Wilco, Hep remembered his eyes. They were like shields, dark and closed off. They let everyone know that you would be denied entry to the world inside him. And if you tried to press past the gate, you would be cut down. But these eyes were open.
“You did the things that needed to be done to keep us alive,” Hep said. “So I wouldn’t have to. So I could follow this path I’m on.” Hep swayed, his head throbbing. “And now someone else has done the same for you. Kurda and Trapper have chosen a path, so you could continue on this one.” Hep struggled to his feet. “It’s a lot of pressure to live up to others’ expectations, to be someone you never intended on being because they saw that potential in you. I know because that’s what I’ve been trying to do.”
Wilco’s arm went slack. His black blade hung at his side. He stared at Hep with his wide-open eyes. The moment stretched long into infinity, into the present and future, wrapped around them and coiled in on itself until it was a spiral, a storm swirling around them. The black blade flicked up and disappeared into its sheath.
“Quaking little rabbit,” Wilco said. He walked past Hep, placing his mask back on his face, an essential piece of armor now that his internal defenses had failed. “Put yourself together. We’ve got a debrief to attend.”
9
Rear Admiral Klepper looked to have fallen asleep, but he was simply taking it all in. “That is some hokey bullshit.”
“Rear Admiral,” Jeska chided. “I am getting tired of reminding you to maintain some decorum.”
“Apologies, Admiral Jeska.” Klepper had the talent of saying something while making it known that he meant the exact opposite. “But am I to believe that these two pirate slags hold the key to getting us through the Shallows? A couple of swords are going to cut through an energy field that has destroyed thousands of ships over the decades? I don’t buy it.”
Hep tried to explain it again. Then Delphyne attempted. Their explanations fell on deaf ears. “No,” Klepper said. “That’s some nonsense.”
With a heavy sigh, Jeska rose from her chair. “We won’t know until we try. But the same protocols apply here as to the previous mission. This must be done discreetly, with no coordination outside this room. The rest of the Navy is to know none of this until we have something concrete to share. That means the same teams, if you’re all willing.”
“Do we really have the option of saying no?” Horus asked. “And I’m not being an ass here. I really want to know.”
Jeska considered the question. “You are not sailors in this Navy and, therefore, not under my official command. That being said, as I said before, there are no others who can complete this mission. You are the best hope the United Systems have.” She cleared her throat. “Now, stop with the backpedaling and get on board with this. The less time I have to dedicate to massaging your ego, the quicker we can get this done.”
Horus crossed his arms and grunted his commitment to the mission. Mao and Bigby, fresh out of the med-bay, and Calibor stood and saluted. Delphyne, Akari, Dr. Hauser, and Byrne all reaffirmed their commitment. Hep felt that his dedication was understood. All eyes fell to Wilco.
“I suppose you want to tell me that I have a choice to make?” Wilco said. “That you won’t just throw me in the brig and take my sword? That’s all you need. I have no ship to offer. No sailors at my command. I have a sword, a black piece of metal that happens to be half a key. And I have something inside me that terrifies you.”
Hep opened his mouth to speak, but Wilco stood before he could say anything.
“Before I make my intentions known,” Wilco said, “I want to make something else known. I will never again sit in one of your labs. I will never again be poked at by Navy scientists. I will never again be beholden to the Navy or the United Systems or any person who is not me. After this is done, I will walk away, and none here will follow.” He paused, waited for some response. There was none. “Good, then I will accompany you on this disaster of a mission. Consider me your general and captain.”
“Mao will lead this mission,” Jeska said.
“As my second-in-command,” Wilco added. Jeska locked him in a death stare. Wilco sat.
Jeska raised the mission details on a projector screen. “You will sail on the Royal Blue for the Shallows in two hours.”
“Why the rush?” Bigby asked.
“We have reports of activity from Central. It seems the Void is mustering their ships, preparing to launch.”
“And the Byers Clan?” Mao asked.
> “Amelia Byers is in contact with her father right now in the comm center. As soon as she knows his response, she will inform us. She has assured me that she will advocate for support. Until we get confirmation of that, we should assume we are on our own. If you cross paths with a Byers ship, you are authorized to defend yourself, but do nothing else that could jeopardize our standing.”
Hep raised his hand. Despite all the confidence he’d gained, he was still timid when met with a group of powerful people. “There’s something else we’re not talking about. The Void.”
“Isn’t that all we’re talking about?” Wilco said.
“They met us at each location—the meet with the Byers Clan and on Genarian. They know what we’re doing. We should assume they’ll move against Byers and meet us at the Shallows.”
Jeska’s head fell forward. “I have considered this.” She looked at Klepper, his mustache twitching. “We’ve discussed it. We’ve formulated a battle plan.”
“Battle plan?” Mao repeated in surprise.
“We will be moving the Mjolnir and the entirety of the UNS Fleet to meet the Void.”
Mao shot up out of his chair. “Admiral!”
Jeska did not meet him with the fierce look that had become synonymous with her. Her face was instead compassionate. “Dr. Tobin has assured us that Bayne is the only way to defeat the Void. Without him, all is lost. Without your team, we cannot get to him. There is nothing more important than this mission.”
“Doing a little more than massaging my ego now,” Horus said, reflexively trying to lighten the mood.
“But the entire fleet?” Mao said. “If we fail—”
“You won’t,” Jeska said. “Because you can’t. Because if you do, there will be nothing left to fight for. That is why we throw everything at this. We launch every ship we have. Put a blaster in the hand of every able-bodied sailor.”
“Admiral…” Mao looked like he wanted to say more, like he had a lifetime of things he wanted to say, but the words smashed into each other on the way out of his mouth and crumbled into nothing.
“You have two hours,” Jeska said. “Make your final preparations.”
10
No time to sleep. No time to eat a proper meal. Not that Hep could have held one down anyway. His gut gurgled with anticipation, with dread. His mind raced but felt empty at the same time. Too many things to do, no time to do any. Only one thing that mattered.
He felt at his hip, making sure his sword still hung in its scabbard. That was all he needed. Not food. Not sleep. Just the blade. Why then did a feeling of incompleteness hang over him like a black cloud, like he’d left something undone? He couldn’t focus long enough to figure out what that thing could be.
“Hey,” a friendly voice called from behind. Hep turned to see Delphyne walking toward him though a sea of bustling techs racing to prep the Mjolnir to sail. “Got a minute?”
“Oddly, yes. I feel like I have a million things to do but can’t think of even one of them.”
“Nerves. They’ll settle.”
“Will they?”
“No.” They shared a laugh.
Delphyne seemed to forget what she wanted to say. They both stood awkwardly, weight shifting from foot to foot, eyes darting around the hangar, trying not to look at each other.
“What was it you wanted?” Hep tried to smile, not to seem too brusque.
Delphyne touched at her hair, a nervous habit. “I don’t know. I mean, I do know. It’s just… Let me start again.” She breathed in deep, closed her eyes, and exhaled slowly. “I wanted to apologize.”
That knocked Hep back on his heels like he’d been punched in the chin. Delphyne was many things—a genius, enthusiastic, daring, brave—but she was not one to readily admit making a mistake, and so did not easily apologize. “For what?”
“I don’t know. The past few years, I suppose.” She looked at her feet as she twirled her hair. Growing conscious of her hands, she clasped them in front of her and forced herself upright. “Bayne’s descent. Mao starting to push the boundaries after he took command. Sigurd.” Her voice cracked. “I think, on some level, I blamed you for it. I knew it wasn’t really your fault. But you showed up, and it all started to fall apart.”
Hep cleared his throat. His face burned.
“I’m not good at this,” Delphyne said. “I’m trying to say that I know you’re not to blame for any of it. It all just coincided. The things you’ve done since… You’ve been a huge asset to the Navy. To all people, really.” She cleared her throat a few times, squeezing her fingers to keep her hands together. “I’m proud to have sailed with you. Proud to be your friend.”
That rocked Hep back on his heels even harder than the apology, but he let his momentum carry him forward. He opened his arms and wrapped Delphyne up in the tightest hug he’d ever given anyone.
When they parted, both their faces were red. “Right,” Hep said, fumbling with his words like his tongue had a mind of its own. “Anyway, best get prepped to leave.”
“Yes, of course. Less than an hour.” Delphyne smiled wide. “One last adventure on the Blue. Like old times.”
“Unfortunately,” Hep said with a smile.
The Royal Blue felt like home. Even more than the Fair Wind ever had. Hep didn’t know what that meant. The Wind was his. He chose it, customized it, picked the crew. He was little more than a deckhand on the Blue, not even an unofficial member of the crew, but walking up the ramp felt like going home. This was where it all started. Where he started the journey that led him from being a quaking little rabbit, hiding in Wilco’s shadow, to being a captain of his own ship, to embarking a secret missions assigned to him by the commanding admiral of the entire Navy.
“Breathe it in,” Bigby said, walking up the ramp behind him. “Might be the last time.”
“Don’t listen to him,” Horus said, chuckling. “So negative.” The two laughed as they disappeared into the ship.
It felt odd to feel nostalgic for something as he was about to embark on a mission that could herald the end of everything, but Hep couldn’t deny the longing he felt, the hole he didn’t realize was there, having been without these people, this ship, this home. He slung his bag over his shoulder and marched up the ramp.
Mao stared at the captain’s chair for a moment, contemplating it like it was a piece of art. He circled it, letting his fingers drag across its surface, checking it for imperfections. And every perfect imperfection was exactly how he’d left them. The scars on this ship carried a story that dated back before he was captain, to when he was an executive officer, trying to keep Drummond Bayne from crossing the line.
He mostly failed at that, but looking back on his service aboard this ship, Taliesin Mao was proud. He had been part of something historic on several occasions. Painful, but historic. He had helped rip the bandage off decades-old wounds, exposing them to the light and possibly clearing a path toward real healing. Maybe when all this was done, he would work to set the systems back on that path.
“You going to sit or just look at it?”
Mao smiled. “I was waiting for my XO.”
“Don’t call me that,” Delphyne said humorlessly. “I resigned my commission for a reason.”
“You resigned your commission because the Navy was rotting from the inside out. Tirseer, Ayala. So much happening in the shadows. That’s done now.” Mao took something from his pocket. “I spoke with Admiral Jeska. I didn’t need to speak long.” He held up a patch, the sigil of the Royal Blue, the patch of the ship’s executive officer. “She agreed that you are one of the finest officers this Navy has ever seen, and that it would be a massive liability to undergo this operation without you at my side.” Mao dared to smile—to attempt that sly, half-smile he’d seen Bayne wear countless times. It didn’t suit him. “Something about needing someone to keep me in line.”
Delphyne studied the patch the way Mao had studied his chair. A fine painting done by a Renaissance master. “I don’t know.”
<
br /> “Yes, you do.” Mao handed her the patch. Her eyes misted. “Get that on before we set sail. I don’t want any confusion as to the chain of command.”
“Oh, I don’t think that will be a problem,” came a voice full of swagger from behind them. “I think everyone knows who’s running this show.”
Mao and Delphyne locked Wilco in their combined death stare.
“You, of course,” Wilco said in exaggerated deference. And then, in apparent seriousness, he said, “Congratulations, XO.”
Mao studied for sarcasm in the words but found none.
The bridge soon filled with every member of the crew. They gathered around Mao in a semicircle. He felt a sudden rush of heat wash over him. The tips of his ears burned. A fire sparked in his chest. A nostalgia so pure flooded through him that he found himself fighting back tears. For the first time in what felt like years, he felt like a captain again. Then he realized, it was not the first in a long time. It was the first ever. Promoted to captain after Bayne’s defection and presumed death, there had always been a shadow over Mao’s position on the Royal Blue. Even without the specter of Drummond Bayne, there was the looming threat of Colonel Maria Tirseer. Like long, black fingers snaking out of the dark, she touched everything he did, whether by direct order or through his reaction.
Now, with the eyes of these people whom he respected, mostly, upon him, standing again on the bridge of the Royal Blue, a ship that felt like home, Taliesin Mao felt like he’d earned his right to be there. And he felt the freedom that came from captaining a ship without the eyes of a tyrant on him.
“This is a defining moment,” Mao said. “Not just for me and you and this ship. Not just for the Navy or the United Systems. This is a defining moment for humanity. This threat we face, the Void, it is unlike anything we’ve ever seen before. It represents every deep fear we as a species have had since we left Earth. The unknown. Those shadows that lurk just beyond the borders of the Deep Black. And a fear of ourselves. Of what we’re capable of creating, and what we’re capable of doing to each other.
The Deep Black Space Opera Boxed Set Page 74
