“Where…where is she?” Talia asked, and Cole turned back to her and took in her expression, her lower lip trembling as her eyes’ focus flicked from point to point around the bridge.
“I don’t know,” Cole said. “Let’s get you somewhere you can change out of those wet clothes; you have to be freezing. I’ll see if I can find her.”
“Cole,” Srexx said through the bridge’s speakers.
“Yes, Srexx?”
“I have fabricated attire for Miss Talia. The attire is not designer clothing, but it possesses the virtue of being dry and warm.”
Talia smiled, saying, “That sounds lovely, err…Srexx, but how did you get my sizes?”
“I used the shuttle’s internal sensors to scan you. They are not as precise as the sensors aboard the ship, but had I waited for you to arrive, the clothes would not have been ready. If there are any deficiencies in the attire, we can correct them in a second fabrication run. They await you, Miss Talia, in the P-7 quarters on Deck One.”
“I’ll take you,” Cole said and took a step toward the port hatch.
“Cole, if you will permit, I can guide Miss Talia to her quarters. I believe a situation is developing in our vicinity of which you need to be aware.”
“What’s going on?”
“Elements of the Aurelian Navy are moving to blockade the jump gate, while other elements of that organization move to intercept and bracket the ship. I have identified one vessel in the elements that approach us to be an assault ship.”
“They’re going to board us?” Talia gasped, her brow furrowing.
Cole chuckled. “If we were still here when they arrive, they’d be welcome to try. Go relax. Maybe get some sleep if you’re tired. Once we’re out of here, I’ll see what’s going on with Sasha.”
Talia nodded, departing the bridge through the port hatch as Cole headed to the helm. As soon as he sat, he returned the weapons to their normal state of offline. Then, he brought up the sensor display, filtering it for local planetary space. It didn’t take him long to identify the Navy ships; they were the only ships in evidence. Caledonia Control must have instructed all other vessels to vacate the area.
Even at the short distances involved at the planetary scale, the computer calculated there was still about fifteen minutes before the Navy intercepted the ship. Cole smiled. He switched to the helm controls, opening the navigation database to select Gamma Creoris as the ship’s destination. Gamma Creoris was the closest star to Caledonia and uninhabitable; it didn’t even possess any asteroids worth mining. The computer provided Cole a course toward Gamma Creoris that would take the ship from Caledonia orbit to a point on the solar system’s periphery where he could engage the hyperdrive. Cole laughed when he saw his point of departure was nowhere close to any of Caledonia’s jump gates.
“Boy, are they in for a surprise…”
Cole approved the course, locking it into the helm and brought the engines to ten percent. The ship lifted out of its low, geosynchronous orbit and aligned itself on course for the calculated departure point. Cole swiped his fingers up the throttle readout on the helm, bringing the sublight engines to full, and the ship shot away from the planet. The ship passed Caledonia’s farthest moon just over fifteen minutes later and was beyond the planetary defense perimeter another fifteen minutes after that, its velocity surpassing even the Navy’s fastest interceptors.
The Aurelian Navy found all of its elements, both the forces in planetary orbit and those heading for the jump gate Cole’s ship had appeared to arrive through, unprepared and out of position.
“Srexx,” Cole said.
“Yes, Cole?”
“The computer’s telling me we have time before we can leave the Caledonia system. Where’s Sasha, and do you know why she wasn’t on the bridge or in the hangar bay to meet us?”
“Sasha fled the bridge for her quarters at the conclusion of the bombardment. She entered her quarters and has not left.”
“What? Do you know why?”
“I do not believe I have sufficient data on human psychology to calculate a conclusion. However, I can show you the bridge visual log if you desire watching Sasha’s tenure on the bridge. Perhaps you will see something I missed due a lack of understanding.”
“Show me.”
The viewer on the forward bulkhead activated, displaying an image of the bridge as viewed from the aft bulkhead. The video played, its audio routed through the bridge speakers.
“Srexx, can you show me a split screen with half the display being the weapons console during the log and matched to the time-stamp?”
Without even pausing, the log recording compressed to the right-half of the viewer and realigned for the new aspect ratio, as the weapons console’s readout appeared in the now-vacant left half. The weapons were offline, and even after Cole said Sasha might need to fire on the militia, the weapons remained offline.
“Srexx, there’s something odd in the audio, something I can’t quite hear. Can you isolate and enhance it?”
Srexx did not respond, but the ambient sounds of the log recording faded as one specific audio stream increased in volume and clarity. It was Sasha’s voice; she was saying the same words over and over, almost chanting them, “Please don’t fire. Please don’t fire.”
Cole watched Sasha flinch when his words, “Missile launch! We have multiple missile launches!” burst out of the speakers, but the weapons still didn’t come online.
The weapons readout shifted to a focused, zoomed-in display of an area centered on the shuttle. The display showed the shuttle, the rather alarming number of missiles rocketing toward it, and the militia forces on the ridgeline.
Now, Sasha’s voice came back, “Please be a bluff. Please be a bluff.”
Cole watched as the missiles closed on the troop shuttle, and he felt the fear and tension he’d felt in the pilot’s seat of an unarmed troop shuttle all over again.
Srexx’s voice broke through the silence, saying, “Sasha, the shuttle will be destroyed. It does not have the survivability of this ship.”
Cole watched Sasha flinch again, and all traces of indecisiveness and despair vanished; she became the officer that had risen to the rank of Lieutenant Commander and the position of second officer aboard the lead ship of her government’s ground-breaking class of destroyer. Changes flashed across the mirror of the weapons console depicted on the left-half of the screen as Sasha’s hands flew across the console on the right.
The weapons systems switched to Online—Charging at almost the same time the mass of missiles closing on the shuttle was selected as a target for the point-defense lasers. Point-defense systems designed for the starship scale have the effective range of intercontinental weapons batteries on the planetary scale, so the cluster of missiles closing on the shuttle was well within range.
While the point-defense lasers were still charging, Sasha selected the militia formations on the ridgeline, tapping one flank of their position and swiping to the opposite flank. She must’ve selected the starship’s primary weapons, because the readout flashed a prompt, “Starship weapons inefficient inside a planetary atmosphere. Please confirm your firing plan.”
‘Confirm’ on the prompt flashed three times—signifying it had been selected—before the prompt disappeared, just in time to show the point-defense lasers destroying the missiles closing on the shuttle. The weapons console then changed its configuration to a new readout titled ‘Bombardment Control.’ The display showed the entire planetary region around the detention facility with only the militia formation as selected targets. A portion of the weapons console readout displayed estimated casualties. The last line read, ‘Estimated Non-combatant Casualties: 0 ± 0.’
The ‘Confirm’ on the readout flashed three times, and the selected targets vanished in progression from the southwest flank to the northeast. Sasha had deactivated none of the starboard weapons, and the overwhelming firepower of those munitions reduced the ridgeline and hilltop to a plateau of bare bedrock.
Cole watched Sasha slump back against her seat. She sat in silence for several moments before standing and striding from the bridge, her hands wiping her eyes as she left.
The ship’s computer informed Cole it would be seven hours and sixteen minutes before he could engage the hyperdrive. Cole nodded and stood from the helm. He needed to go check on Sasha.
Chapter Eighteen
In Transit to System Periphery
Caledonia System
4 July 2999
Cole approached the hatch that led to Sasha’s new quarters. He tapped the control for the hatch-chime and waited. Nothing. He tapped it again, just in case. Several minutes later, still nothing.
“Life support systems indicate the compartment is occupied,” Srexx said from a speaker above Cole’s head. “No medical alerts have been triggered.”
Cole nodded. He felt so torn on what to do. On the one hand, he wasn’t sure it was his place to interfere. He hadn’t even known Sasha all that long, and the case could be made it wasn’t his business. And yet…
Cole hated seeing a member of his crew in such a state of distress, and that was what Sasha was now, a member of his crew. Lessons he’d absorbed at his father’s knee and that continued to guide his life to this day demanded that he always put his people’s welfare before his own…no exceptions. If Cole turned and left Sasha to fend for herself, he’d be betraying core family values passed down from parent to child across centuries. He would be betraying himself.
“Haven,” Cole said.
“Yes, Cole-Captain?”
“Override the lock on the first officer’s quarters…my authority.”
“Compliance.”
A red indicator on the hatch control panel blinked from red to green, and a small tone sounded as the hatch irised open. Cole stepped just far enough into the quarters for the hatch to iris closed, and when the hatch closed, it took the corridor’s light with it.
“Why are you here, Cole?” Sasha asked from somewhere further into the quarters. Her rough, mournful voice sounded like it came from the left side of the space in front of Cole.
“I’m concerned about you, Sasha,” Cole said. “I was expecting a sappy, tearful reunion on the flight deck, watching you squeeze the water out of Talia’s clothes when you hugged her.”
“It seems I have the teary part down. Besides, I knew you would see she was taken care of.”
“Yeah, but me seeing she’s taken care of is not her big sister being there for her. Sasha, what’s wrong?”
“I fired on those militia units.”
“I’m sorry, Sasha, but I don’t understand. They were going to kill your sister.”
“Lights to half,” Sasha said, and the computer brought the compartment’s lighting up to half. Cole saw she was curled up on the couch she’d ordered at Bremerton, her uniform in her hands. Her nose was red and swollen. Her cheeks were red, and her eyes puffy. She wore what looked like soft, fluffy pajamas.
“Did you know my family was one of the Founding Families of the Aurelian Commonwealth?”
Cole shook his head. “Not until you mentioned it the other day. I don’t know much about the Commonwealth’s history.”
Sasha pointed to one chair opposite her, and Cole moved to sit. She waited until he had and said, “The colony Aurelius was founded in 2456, funded by five families. The senior member of that partnership was the Thyrray family. Since the day the colony ships first landed on what would become Aurelius, my family have been leaders, serving in both the Aurelian military and the civilian government. There was a room in the house where I grew up that had nothing but portraits of all the leaders in my family, dating all the way back to the Colonial Era.”
Sasha stopped speaking as a fresh round of sobs ambushed her.
“Cole,” she continued, “I don’t have the words to express how anathema the idea of my father destroying the Aurelian Parliament is to who we are. He was always lecturing me on how I needed to prepare to take his place when I grew up…in Parliament. The thought I would ever fire on Aurelian personnel has never entered my mind; it hasn’t even been a part of my world…until today. I have betrayed everything my family fought to build. I feel like my life is over.”
Cole sighed. “I wish I knew what to say to convince you it’s not, and besides, you haven’t betrayed anything or anyone. Whoever kicked off the coup did that.”
Sasha jerked her eyes up to stare at Cole. “What? What do you mean?”
“Sasha, while I’ve only known you for a few weeks, I haven’t spent my life in a vacuum. You’d have to be a hermit on some rock out near Ghrexel space not to have heard of the Thyrrays of Aurelius. They already had a sizable portion of influence within the Commonwealth, especially among the average citizens; what would kicking off a coup gain your father? Absolute power? It’s overrated. Every despot I’ve ever seen is all consumed with worry over someone deposing him and stealing his money and position of power, and believe me, I’ve seen a few. Your father had more power as a man of the people than any despot ever has…outside of their true believers…and that’s probably why they framed him using the method and narrative they did. Sasha, whoever kicked off this coup knew he or she would never be successful as long as your family existed. Why else put such a high bounty on a lieutenant commander and university student? I’ve not seen any behavior to make me think Talia is that activist the news report on Bremerton made her out to be; matter of fact, I don’t think she’s dangerous at all.”
A soft smile curled Sasha’s mouth. “Yeah…Mom fought like you wouldn’t believe to keep Talia out of Dad’s world. She didn’t want her growing up as one of the Thyrrays of Aurelius.” The smile faded. “So, what happens now, Cole? Do my sister and I hide out on your ship the rest of our lives?”
Cole scoffed. “I won’t lie, Sasha; I’m not invested in the fate of the Aurelian Commonwealth. That being said, if you want to investigate this, I’ll help you. If you want just to disappear and let the Commonwealth self-destruct on its own, you and your sister are welcome aboard Haven as long as you want to be here. I’m already planning how to crew this ship with people who won’t look at the two of you as a source for credits. Discuss the matter with Talia, and decide what you want to do.”
The hatch irised open, revealing Talia standing in the corridor. She wore fresh clothes, and her hair—pulled back in a ponytail—looked freshly dried. She stepped through the hatch and walked right up to the couch where Sasha sat.
“I’m worried about you, Sooshie,” Talia said, her voice soft and vulnerable. “I figured out why you’re hurting. You didn’t betray them, Soosh; they betrayed you…well…us. Besides, I lost Mom and Dad, too, and I don’t want to be alone right now.”
Sasha nodded a little, and Talia swarmed onto the couch, pulling her older sister into her arms and putting her head on Sasha’s shoulder.
Cole held back a proud smile as he stood, realizing it was time for him to go. He was almost to the hatch when Sasha spoke.
“Leaving so soon, Cole?”
Cole turned and shrugged as the hatch opened behind him, saying, “I thought it’s high time I explored the ship. You could’ve knocked me over with a feather when Srexx said we had a shuttle. Ping my comms code, or have Srexx call me if you need anything.”
Cole turned and stepped through the open hatch, allowing Sasha and Talia their privacy.
Cole entered the bridge and headed for the helm console when Srexx spoke.
“Cole, have you forgotten the Caledonian SDF personnel on the flight deck?”
“Oh, damn.” Cole sighed. “Yes, Srexx, I did. Thank you for reminding me.”
Cole checked the helm station just long enough to confirm they were still on course for the system periphery. They were. The system periphery was a whopping 57 AUs away from the planet, and even at half-c, the trip still required fifteen hours, forty-five minutes, and change. Yep. Cole had time to visit the SDF people. He might even linger if the conversation was worth it.
Cole stepped through the hatch, entering the flight deck and seeing many heads turn his way. Once again, Lieutenant Mazzi came to meet him. This time, she came alone, and Cole wondered if he should consider this progress or equality since he had no one with him either.
“Sir,” Mazzi said, giving Cole a nod.
“Lieutenant,” Cole said, returning the nod.
Mazzi pursed her lips and shook her head. “No, sir, I don’t think so…not anymore. Your friend Srexx has been kind enough to keep us apprised of the situation in Caledonia. His last update for us indicated the planetary governor’s mansion was burning, and troops were fanning out through all the major cities. I don’t know what this is now, but it sure as hell isn’t the Aurelian Commonwealth. Every one of us here resigned our commissions or ended our enlistments. Your friend Srexx was kind enough to communicate our decision to Caledonia.”
Cole grinned. “I bet he was. You should ask him sometime what else he sent along with your messages.”
“Sir? I’m not sure I understand.”
Cole shrugged. “Srexx is an AI, Mazzi, and he gets bored. It wouldn’t surprise me to find out he hacked the datanet of the entire occupying force and was reading their communications for the fun of it.”
Mazzi’s eyes widened just enough to notice as her face blanked. After a couple heartbeats, she shook herself and said, “Sir, we’ve been discussing things, and we were wondering if you’d have time to talk with us.”
“Sure. I came down to ask what you wanted to do, because we’re leaving Caledonia with the Navy chasing an hour or so behind us. But we can loop around and let any life pods out for those who wish to stay.”
“That’s just it, sir. None of us do. We’d be hunted down for our participation in the SDF, given some of the news Srexx passed on to us, so there’s not much reason to stay. We were hoping to discuss our options with you.”
It Ain't Over Page 15
