Captive Embers (The Wardens' Game Book 1)

by Brian Mansur

The shocked woman studied Rafe’s head full of lumps, all colored with the darker shades of the rainbow. He imagined blood caked his features as well.

  “Commander Hastings,” she said with some hesitation. “I’m Captain Paulson of the MSV Tsunami. It’s good to see you. I apologize, but we’ll need to authenticate you first. Claire?”

  The A.I.’s avatar appeared in a corner of the screen. “Commander, please tell us what is significant about the Spring of 4375.”

  Rafe recalled the personal authentication questions he had updated before deploying to Lakshmi. The mist of nostalgia gathered in his eyes. In a voice thick with longing, he said, “Anna discovered unicorns. And Karen invented the Peach Kiss.”

  “Authenticated, ma’am,” Claire said.

  Paulson blew a sigh of relief.

  Rafe said in a rush, “I have a lot to tell you, Captain.”

  “Then you may be the best news we’ve had today, Commander,” Paulson replied. “Last I’d been briefed, you’d been taken prisoner. We didn’t know you were alive until the Wardens announced your custodial immunity a few minutes ago. Are you safe now?”

  “I believe so, ma’am,” Rafe replied. “I’m in a Warden vehicle. Alone with an enforcer. It says the line’s secure.”

  Paulson absorbed Rafe’s small sentences with a gentle nod. “I don’t know if that counts as safe, but we’ll take it.”

  Rafe would have chuckled, but for his exhaustion and the worries threading through his mind. Fighting off tears, he rasped, “My wife Gita, daughters Karen and Anna, were on Zeus when it was hit. Are they—”

  “Claire,” Paulson said, “Are they on any of the lifeboats?”

  The A.I.’s response overlapped the request. “Alastair confirmed a Karen, and Anna Hastings boarded Boat 19. I’m sorry, but Gita Hastings is listed as missing.”

  Paulson’s gaze angled upward. “No matter where I am or what I’m doing, Claire, you let me know if you learn something new about her.”

  “Aye, ma’am.”

  In a low voice, the captain said, “I’m truly sorry. You have my word that we’ll do everything possible to take care of your family.”

  Rafe took several seconds to register the captain’s assurances. His darlings, Karen and Anna, were alive. His precious Gita was almost certainly dead.

  He tried the words out in his mind: Gita’s dead. It didn’t feel real. The feisty bar-girl from Sundar. The gorgeous, raven-haired beauty he had married and loved for thirteen years. The strong woman who, despite her haunting past, had bravely borne and raised his children. His conscience and friend. His wife. Gone.

  “Commander,” Paulson said with concern, “we’ve been getting our asses handed to us. Is there anything you can tell us that might help?”

  Rafe wanted to throw up. He took several breaths, worried that he might start heaving at any moment.

  “Commander,” Paulson repeated, her urgency rising. “We need to know all we can if we’re going to keep your girls safe.”

  That brought Rafe back from the brink. With effort, he wheezed, “Lilith made me watch everything with her. That’s why I asked for the BELCOM Commander.”

  Paulson’s jaw tightened. “That’s me now. I was just telling the other ship captains that I’d assumed command when you called.”

  “I saw what happened to your crew,” Rafe said. He coughed and cleared his sore throat. His face screwed up in pain, grief, anxiety, and exhaustion. “They fought hard against those mechs.”

  "Thank you,” Paulson said. “Look, before you fall over, I need to know anything of importance you can give us.”

  For the next several minutes, Rafe battled his grief to outline what he had seen and deduced about their situation. He mentioned his suspicions about the limits to whatever had paralyzed their ships. He also detailed what the enforcer had said about how Lilith’s immunity did not protect her from an Arbiter’s effects. Any ship with one of the devices could fire upon Lakshmi, placing it into Unrestricted Warfare status. She would be vulnerable then.

  Paulson listened intently. When Rafe paused for a break, the captain said, “So, because you uncovered Lilith’s capabilities, she moved before she was ready. That means any colony where we weren’t attacked is probably free of Arbiters.”

  “Agreed, ma’am.”

  The lighting around Paulson flickered green then white. The Tsunami had secured from general quarters, prompting Paulson to remove her helmet. Adjusting her communications cap, she continued, “We had better share this with the rest of Cervantes before colonies start surrendering. Maybe with enough ships and troops, we could mount a counter-attack on Lakshmi. Lilith could nuke colonies in retaliation, but if there’s a chance to take her out, we have to try.”

  Rafe recalled images of Zeus spouting nuclear flame and blasting apart. He shivered. Then he remembered something else. “Agreed. But Lilith mentioned having weapons. Something called Casabas. She planned to use them to frighten us off.”

  Paulson spat a curse.

  “What are they, ma’am?” Rafe asked.

  “Casaba-Howitzers,” Paulson said. “Old Earth tech more properly called nuclear lances. They are shaped nuclear charges that can send a spear of fire along a narrow beam for thousands of kilometers. They aren’t in the Warden Industrial Catalog, but I read a paper on them back in the day. You saw us nuke the Feni?”

  Rafe nodded, wondering when Lilith’s roster of nasty surprises would ever run out.

  Paulson continued. “Depending on the warhead’s strength, a big enough Casaba Howitzer could do the same thing, but from thousands of klicks away.”

  Rafe groaned as he tried to imagine how to defend against such firepower. He hoped the things would at least have the same built-in ten-thousand-kilometer maximum firing range as with all other Warden-made weapons.

  Then Rafe remembered another detail and said, “Lilith told Dalip she didn’t have enough casabas to spare.”

  “Oh?” Paulson said, projecting hope.

  “She likes dramatics. So, she must have very few if she hasn't used them.”

  Paulson pressed her mouth into a thin line before saying, “That would be keeping with Warden policy to never give us too many toys we could use against them.”

  “Their policies seem adjustable lately. They are playing some game with us.”

  Paulson rubbed at her nose, which made Rafe acutely aware of all the places on his body that wanted for scratching. He rolled his head, desperate to sleep.

  Paulson saw Rafe fading again and said, “I think you’re right. We’ll ponder that more later along with what to do about the Celesians helping Lilith.” The captain sighed. “At least the lifeboats have places to land that are free of Lilith’s control. Thanks to what you did.”

  A small measure of relief flowed into Rafe. My daughters will make it. He ignored the voice reminding him that Gita would have wanted him to go to them. They will be fine. You have work to do.

  He did say, “Ma’am, where is Lifeboat 19 headed?”

  “Claire?” Paulson said.

  “Vishnu colony, ma’am,” the A.I. replied. “The MSV Capable is there and back under control, so it should be safe.”

  Assured of his girls’ condition, Rafe said, “We have an opportunity, ma’am. The Wardens offered to take me wherever I asked.”

  The captain straightened and said, “I see what you’re thinking. Claire, do we know when the commander will lose his immunity status?”

  “His immunity will end twenty four hours after delivery to the ship of his choice,” Claire answered.

  Paulson’s eyes twinkled. “Claire, give me a plot of our ships in the system.”

  Rafe watched the officer’s eyes darting over something out of the camera’s view. After half a minute, Paulson bobbed her head with excitement.

  “We can do it,” she declared.

  Rafe knew what the captain had in mind.

  “Claire,” the woman continued, “plot a flight plan to let us rendezvous with Commander Hast
ings while linking up with the Sorvino and the largest number of surviving warships possible. We need to use the commander’s immunity to strike Lakshmi with at least 2 hours to spare. Make sure the course keeps us safe from interceptors while we’re unprotected. If all the pieces move now, right now, we can counter-attack. We dock the surviving ships together. Your status will protect them all. Then we fly to that witch’s doorstep and drop the Sorvino’s brigade of marines on her.”

  In a flash of insight, Rafe had an idea as to how they could hurt Lilith without violating her immunity. He kept it to himself in case she could somehow tap into their conversation.

  “Claire,” Paulson said, “how about that course analysis?”

  The A.I. replied, “If the commander travels by a standard Warden courier ship, it will be close. Thrusting to the optimal rendezvous point and then to Lakshmi will drop our re-mass reserves to black by the time we arrive. We will have between two and four hours of immunity left.”

  “Workable,” Paulson said. “What else?”

  “The numbers are contingent on several factors. We may have to block the enemy from attacking non-immune ships before they make the rendezvous. There may be unforeseen complications with the link-ups. We also don’t know if the Warden courier will accommodate our flight plan.”

  “We’ll solve the problems as they come,” Paulson said. “Commander, tell the Warden where you want to go.”

  “Warden,” Rafe said. “Please take me. To the MSV Tsunami.”

  Paulson said, “Claire, submit the flight plan. And prep orders for the fleet.”

  The enforcer beside Rafe said, “Request accepted.”

  “A favor,” Rafe said to Paulson. “Make sure my children are guarded. Lilith has a grudge, and she knows my kids’ names. She targeted my home on Zeus.”

  “She what?” Paulson said. “Claire?”

  The A.I. piped in. “Three missiles were timed to hit the housing division for the Hastings residence.”

  Paulson called up more information off-screen. After several seconds of flicking through data, she said, “Boat 19 is one of eight headed for Vishnu. On the off chance that Lilith learns your kids’ whereabouts, I’ll order the Capable to hold position there until we near Lakshmi.”

  “Thank you, ma’am,” he said.

  “We owe you,” she replied.

  “We owe Lilith payback.” He gritted out his last words. “See you in a day.”

  18

  Location: Feni escape pod_

  Sarah spent the half-hour-long flight to the Tsu in a dazed, nauseated rush. Following the Feni’s horrors, she wanted nothing more than to curl into a tight ball and cry. Despite her trembling hands and a twitching eyelid, she cut through all the marines’ suits, dressed half a dozen gashes, started three intravenous lines, and threaded as many urinary catheters. The gut punches, however, kept coming.

  Lilith’s broadcast left Sarah thunderstruck. How can Zeus be gone? How many of the charred corpses now orbiting Belia were people she’d met? How much did they suffer before dying?

  Moreover, she knew she’d botched her priorities during the battle. There was no hiding it. Claire would have their suit camera’s footage downloaded the minute they docked. Her hesitation to collect the wounded, her abandoning their patients to fight, her violating her protected medical-provider status—all of it would be on record.

  I’ll never put my feelings ahead of my job like that again. The oath didn’t ease her tension much. As she finished prepping the marines for transfer to sickbay, she broke the morbid silence.

  “Do you think anything will happen to me because I went after that mech?” she asked. “What you said got me worried and…”

  Sean looked up from a pressure dressing he'd clamped to Martinez. “Nothing career-ending will happen. You tried to prevent a war crime. That mech would have done to me what it did to Horvath. I can’t imagine anyone important will fault you for acting.”

  Sarah stared at Watson’s stumps and said, “You really think others will see it that way?”

  Sean nodded. “Yeah, the people who matter will.”

  Sarah kept staring off.

  “Hey,” Sean said, “you took a stupid risk, but it didn’t hurt anyone this time. Don’t do it again, and don’t worry about it. No one’s going to punish what little success we’ve had today.”

  Sarah blinked and tried to reconcile the idea of success with anything she’d done on the Feni. Sean added, “Listen, I won’t let anyone do more than reprimand you for saving my life. Okay?”

  After a moment, Sarah looked at him and nodded meekly.

  Sean gave her a tired, crooked smile before hanging his head. He cleared his throat and said, “I’m, uh, I’m very sorry for yelling at you.” He took a breath. “You’re a kind person. Even though what I said was right, how I said it wasn’t what you deserved. Especially since you saved my life.” He forced himself to look back up at her.

  Sarah searched his face for several seconds. “Next time,” she said, “I’ll let the mech get you.” She took his hand, squeezed it and quickly let go. “I forgive you.”

  Now, if only I can forgive myself.

  Location: Sickbay, MSV Tsunami

  On reaching sickbay, Sarah found Doctor Apple waiting with his surgical gear ready. He thanked the litter team for bringing the wounded, then cleared out everyone but Sean and Sarah. Once they had helped Apple hook the patients up to some fluid bags, he addressed them.

  “Any injuries?” he asked.

  “Back hurts,” Sarah said, shuddering at the memory of the violence that had caused it. “My rebreather was hit.”

  “We’ll scan that and see how it feels after some rest,” Apple said, “And you, Sean?”

  The lieutenant ground his teeth before answering. “Hip joints are giving me some trouble.”

  “For how long?” Apple demanded.

  “It started shortly after we left the Feni.”

  Sarah regarded Sean with trepidation.

  The doc said, “Well, you both know what this means.”

  They nodded. Sean most likely had decompression sickness. Their preflight breathing regimen lowered but didn’t quite eliminate the bends-inducing nitrogen in their bodies. So, when the boarding team had bounced from full atmosphere to vacuum during their fight aboard the MAC, the pressure changes caused the residual nitrogen to form bubbles in Sean’s bloodstream and joints. The odds had been against it, but he’d been unlucky. Treatment required him to spend four hours breathing inside of a pure, high-pressure oxygen environment.

  Apple reached into a nearby drawer, selected two sets of scrubs—standard, one hundred percent cotton medical uniforms: low on risk for static electricity discharges in the presence of flammable oxygen.

  “My office is prepped for hyperbaric mode,” the doctor said, then turned to Sarah, handing her the clothes. “Go with him. You’re off duty for twelve hours, the both of you. Captain’s orders.”

  Dulled by her emotionally depleted state, Sarah said, “Don’t you need me to help with Watson?”

  “Your hands haven’t stopped shaking since you got in here,” Apple said while arranging a palate of magnetized surgical instruments next to the marine’s stubs. “Take a break.”

  Like an automaton, Sarah muttered an “Aye, sir.”

  A handful of minutes later and they were changed and sealed into the closet-sized compartment. Sean tapped the control panel next to the office’s hatch. An image of Apple and his unconscious patients appeared.

  Sean said, “We’re ready.”

  “Claire,” Apple ordered, “start the treatment cycle.”

  The hiss of air immediately issued from an unseen valve. Sarah screwed her face with discomfort as she yawned to clear her ears.

  “I’ll check on you both from time to time,” the doctor said through the room’s speakers. “Apple out.” The picture faded to black.

  Sean turned to her. They stared at each other across a handful of centimeters.

 
; Sarah’s face knotted with emotion. Searching for something to refocus her mind, she asked, “How’s the pain?”

  “Not bad,” he answered. “The meds you had us take aboard the Feni seem to have kept the edge off. I’ll be fine. Really. How do you feel?”

  At his words, Sarah began shivering. Her professionalism had held back the primal terror writhing within her psyche. Now she had nothing to do and no one she needed to be brave for. Since Sean had let himself be vulnerable with her in the escape pod, she felt she could be the same around him. So, her control finally collapsed.

  “I’m…” she attempted, and then her fingers fluttered to her cheeks as she broke into desperate tears. Sarah drew her knees into her body and began to release her misery through one wracking sob after another.

  “Just breathe,” Sean said. “It will all be okay.”

  Sean quickly gathered her sideways against him, tucking her frame beneath his chin. Her body nestled into his, the way she had with her father after childhood night terrors. She let Sean’s chest and limbs become warmth to her. He became safety. His firm, hushed assurances that she would be okay reverberated in her heart, calming its racing beat. Protected, she let her young voice crescendo repeatedly in long, mournful wails. Many tissues and a sleeping pill later, she fell unconscious in Sean’s embrace.

  19

  Location: Sickbay, MSV Tsunami_

  Sarah woke from a nightmare about people dying. On opening her eyes, she realized with a start that she was alone and secured to the bulkhead. Wriggling to unlatch a set of wall straps, she called out, “Hello?”

  Sean poked his head from inside the shallow airlock. The standard uniform he wore told her their requisite four hours of compression must have elapsed long before.

  “Hi,” he said, bearing a forced smile. “How are you feeling?”

  On seeing a familiar face, her apprehension dissolved. She exhaled then sniffed. She immediately noticed two pleasant scents: coffee and peppermint. They reminded her of home on holiday.