by J. N. Chaney
To his credit, the kid sat straighter in his chair, squaring his shoulders as he met my gaze. His jaw tensed with nerves, his face a little paler than usual, but he wasn’t backing down. I nodded, grateful that, like so many times before, he still had my back.
“the Nebula Prospect will leave in a few minutes,” I said, pausing in front of the holo as I watched the Celestial ship drift before me. “I’m going out there, but none of you need to come if you don’t want to. You’re free to walk away right now, but this tunnel won’t stay open for long. You need to decide here in this moment, one way or another.”
I let the words settle in the deathly silence of the bridge. It seemed like no one so much as breathed as I waited for choices to be made.
Deep down, I kind of wanted Rackham and his soldiers to take me up on my offer so I could get them out of my hair for a bit, but I knew better. We would need them, for better or worse, and besides, I didn’t need them snooping around while I was gone.
I also wanted Abigail off the ship. I knew she wouldn’t even consider it, but it didn’t stifle the fear in my belly, rising at the prospect of her death. That woman was tough as nails and prideful to boot, and I loved her for every ounce of it.
In the end, no one so much as moved.
“Get on with it, you damn fool,” Lucia said impatiently, nodding to the holo. “There’s a battle to be had.”
I grinned, rubbing my jaw to hide the smile as best I could. “Well, all right, then.”
I sat once more in the Captain’s chair, leaning one elbow on the armrest as I prepared myself for what lay ahead of us. The moment we left slipspace, we’d either be entering the silence of the void or a warzone.
Rackham took a few quiet steps toward my chair, leaning in as he spoke in a hushed tone. “It seems the rumors about your people’s fierce loyalty are true, Captain.”
As much as I liked to think of Vick gossiping at a water cooler about the strength of my crew, I didn’t say anything. My shoulders tensed with the thought of what we were about to do, and I needed to focus.
“Siggy, take us in,” I said, gesturing toward the Celestial ship in the wreckage.
“Right away, Captain,” said Sigmond. “Preparing to enter slipspace.”
Nearby, Freddie sucked in a nervous breath as the Nebula Prospect roared to life, steering toward the massive slip tunnel.
While the ship entered the green lightning of slipspace, my grip tightened instinctively on the armrest as I prepared for the worst. With my eye on the holo, watching the debris drifting through the void, all I could think was: that could soon be us. If that Celestial ship sprang to life once we went through, we could be taken out in just a few short minutes. We’d be nothing but icy corpses floating through the dark.
But we didn’t come this far to let it end that quickly. Me and my crew—we still had things to do.
5
The green storm of slipspace crackled around us as the Nebula Prospect tore through the tunnel. The stream was fast, faster than I thought it would be, and McCabe made note of the instability. This was the largest slip tunnel ever created, so far as anyone knew, and the scanners showed higher energy readings than normal.
Not far from the Captain’s chair, Dressler leaned toward the holo, watching in fascination as we sailed through the emerald storm. Unlike Hitchens, this doctor rarely showed emotion—but much like the good professor, she had a fascination with the unknown.
Me, well, I just preferred to stay alive.
“The end of the tunnel is near,” said Sigmond through the comm in my ear. “Preparing to exit slipspace.”
“Siggy, cloak us,” I ordered.
“Right away, sir,” the Cognitive said. “Initiating cloak.”
I nodded. The Union were a bunch of power-hungry assholes, but at least they were half-decent with developing new tech. The ability to cloak within a slip tunnel was something else, and I couldn’t lie to myself—I liked playing with their toys, especially while Rackham watched.
“Bridge crew, prepare weapons,” I ordered, wanting to stay ahead of whatever we met on the other end. “If anything so much as moves, shoot it to hell.”
“Aye, Captain,” said Chelanah, giving me a tense nod.
Dressler scoffed. “The Sarkonian weapons have no neutronium blended with their cores. They aren’t going to have an effect on—”
“Our guns might not cause fiery explosions, Doc, but it’ll still slow them down,” I snapped, not letting her finish. “What do you want me to do, Dressler? Just roll over and play dead?”
She pursed her lips in annoyance but didn’t reply.
“Preparing to exit slipspace,” Sigmond said, his voice booming through the bridge. “Everyone hold on, please. This might be a tad rough.”
“Rough?” I raised one eyebrow in confusion. “Why would—”
As we exited slipspace, the ship shook violently. Metal groaned from the force of whatever the hell had just happened. Several of the bridge crew yelped as they nearly fell out of their seats, and of Rackham’s men, only he remained standing.
“Everyone okay?” I asked, glancing around as Bolin helped one of his men stand. “Siggy, what the hell was that?!”
“A bit of interference from the tunnel, sir,” Sigmond said. “Apologies. I’ve adjusted the ship’s settings to accommodate for the unusual conditions of the tunnel’s exit, so it won’t happen again.”
“Unusual conditions?” Abigail asked. “What the heavens are you talking about?”
“Unknown,” said Sigmond. “There was an odd pocket of turbulence upon exiting the tunnel. I’m afraid my scanners were unable to discern what caused it, which is why I attempted to notify you all that it would be a tad rough.”
Lucia gritted her teeth, nursing her shoulder, and I briefly wondered if she’d fallen. She was a tough old bird, though, and she would be fine. “Rough’s a bit of an understatement, don’t you think?” she asked.
“Apologies,” said Sigmond once again.
I stiffened. “Wait. Siggy, could something have gone through the tunnel in the other direction?”
“Negative, sir. My scans indicate there is nothing in the other slipstream, nor anything following us from the core. For now, Earth is safe.”
I relaxed my shoulders, but only slightly. I didn’t like any of this, not one bit, but at least Earth wasn’t at risk. For the moment, anyway. It seemed like anywhere I went, trouble followed.
Our ship scanned the void around us, replicating the initial three-dimensional models the probe had sent us. Everything was exactly as the probe had seen—right down to the flawless white ship floating in the ruins.
“Weapons ready,” I ordered. The bridge crew gripped their controls, ready to fire as I crossed to the holo. “Keep the tunnel open just a little longer, Athena, in case we need to get the hell out of here.”
“Yes, Captain,” she said calmly.
I rubbed my jaw as I studied the holo. “Siggy, do a deep scan of the nearby area. Look for absolutely anything that might even hint at another cloaked ship.” I paused. “And I mean anything, you hear that?”
“Yes, sir,” said the Cognitive.
“While you’re at it,” I added, “enhance the image of the Celestial ship.”
As I spoke, the holo zoomed in on the drifting vessel, and I wondered if we could find anything useful on this thing—or if cracking it open would let all hell loose on my boat.
Either way, this was why we were here. Intel. Data. Danger was just a part of it, and it was time to get to work.
“All clear, Captain,” said Sigmond.
I let out a slow sigh of relief, but I wasn't about to let my guard down.
“Alphonse, do you read?” I asked.
“Loud and clear,” the Constable said through my personal comm link. “Emphasis on loud.”
“Cute,” I muttered. “You and Athena can close the tunnel.”
“Initiating procedures to close the slip tunnel,” Athena said, and I half ex
pected her to add an exasperated finally at the end of it. She didn’t, though. The Titan cognitive was too damn polite.
“Best of luck, Captain,” Alphonse said.
“Thanks, Al.” Neither Alphonse nor I relied much on luck, but I appreciated the gesture all the same. That was the only way I’d gotten this far: grit, blood, and doing what needed to be done. “Hope the Union doesn’t piss you off while I’m gone.” I briefly glanced at Rackham, who watched me with a stoic and mostly unreadable expression on his hardened face.
Alphonse chuckled, as if he noticed something in what I said that I’d missed. “One last parting thought, if you don’t mind.”
“Yeah?”
“Try not to die.”
I nodded. “That’s the plan, Constable.”
With that, the green lightning of slipspace disappeared. The tunnel—and our only way back to Earth—had closed almost instantly, which made me figure Athena had been only too eager to cut it. We had two hours before it would open again, and I wanted to have news to bring back. It didn’t have to be good news. I just needed something, anything at all to go on, and at least we had a place to start.
Hell, with my luck, there was a Celestial armada on the way. We had to crack open the scout ship’s secrets, and fast.
I studied the Celestial vessel as it floated before me on the holo. “Siggy, any new readings on this thing?”
“No, sir. My continued scans still show no heat signatures or movement.”
I nodded, not sure what else I expected, but I couldn’t be too careful. “Bring us in.”
“Right away, sir,” said Sigmond.
“What’s the plan, Jace?” Abigail asked, her arms crossed as she watched the holo.
“Let’s be hospitable,” I said with a grin. “Time to bring this thing on board. Open arms, big welcome party, the whole shebang. Hell, we can have some sweets on standby, too.” Truth be told, I was getting the itch for a hard candy, but I resisted the impulse. I had a stash of them in the captain’s office, which was connected to the bridge by a door only I could open. I could always get one later, if later ever came.
Freddie’s gaze shifted to me, and his voice shook ever so slightly with nerves. “But Captain, are you sure bringing this ship on board is a good idea?”
“How else can we get anything from it, Freddie?” I gestured at the holo. “The only way to access its control panels is at close range. I sure don’t want to head out there in a suit, do you?”
“But you want to bring it onboard?” Dressler asked, incredulous. “What if there’s a Celestial in there?”
“Then we shoot it.” I shrugged, as this all felt fairly obvious to me. “A lot.”
“He’s right,” Abigail said, lifting her rifle. “We have neutronium bullets, and we know that will at least slow them down. Whatever information that little ship might have, we need it, and we can’t sit around waiting.”
At least Abigail understood.
I gestured to the Celestial ship on the holo. “Siggy, get that thing in the cargo bay.”
“Right away, sir.”
I pointed at a few of the bridge crew manning the helm. “You all stay here and keep an eye on the void around us. Anything moves, you call me up here immediately. Everyone else, follow me and have your weapons ready.”
With that, I turned on my heel and drew my pistol as I headed toward the cargo bay with a small army in tow. I wasn’t going to take any chances—not with my crew, not with Earth’s safety on the line, and not with everything at stake.
If there was anything alive on that ship, I would stuff it full of neutronium bullets faster than it could take a breath.
I lifted my gun at the flawless metal ship that sat in my cargo bay, my finger on the trigger.
With slow and careful steps, I eased toward it, Abigail at my back with her rifle trained on the cockpit. Our party circled the ship, though I was careful to keep Rackham and his guys in my line of sight. I didn’t need them getting any fancy ideas while I was distracted.
Dressler stood beside me, a collection of devices and wires in her hands as she studied the small ship before us. “Now or never, I suppose.”
“Get that thing open, Doc,” I said with a nod to the ship. “We’ll cover you.”
She nodded tersely and knelt, setting a screen on her knee and tapping her fingers quickly across it as she sorted through the wires in her hand.
“Pry this access panel open for me, would you?” she asked, tapping her finger against the metal beside her. All the while, she never lifted her gaze or stopped typing along the pad with her other hand.
I squinted at the smooth metal, wondering what the hell she saw that I didn’t. “Freddie, grab a crowbar and help the good doctor.”
“Me? Uh—” He gulped. “Oh, uh, yes. Of course, Captain.” The kid disappeared for a moment before returning with a crowbar. With his gun trained loosely on the ship, he took a few wary steps forward. His nervous gaze was trained on the cockpit as he inched closer. Petra covered him, hovering protectively close as she kept her weapon lifted, her gaze laser-focused and ready to fire.
My attention still firmly trained on the cockpit, I occasionally glanced at Dressler’s work to keep tabs on her progress. Once Freddie had pried open the access panel, she got to it, hooking up wires and tapping on her screen with furious speed.
Any second now, I expected a Celestial to blast a hole in its own ship and attack, nothing but rage and fury. And every second that didn’t happen, I got more tense. My grip tightened around my gun, my finger itching to pull the trigger even though I didn’t have anything to shoot.
“Intriguing,” she muttered under her breath.
“You want to share with the class, Doc?” I asked, not bothering to mask my annoyance as my shoulders tensed with anticipation.
“No, not yet,” Dressler said dismissively. “There’s not enough to—oh. Hmm.” She narrowed her eyes at the screen, tapping her finger on her chin as she lost herself in thought.
Sometimes, I swore this woman was worse than Hitchens. “Progress update, Dressler,” I commanded.
“I’m almost in,” she said impatiently. “Just one more—there.”
Her screen flashed green, and she looked up at the cockpit expectantly.
“Step back,” I ordered. “Dressler, get behind me and grab your gun in case it gets past us.”
“I would think we’d be fairly helpless if that happened, Captain,” she said, gathering her equipment and obeying all the same. “Not sure I would be much help at that point.”
“Get ready,” I ordered, ignoring her. Around me, dozens of guns shifted aim on my command, all trained on the cockpit. “Fire at the first sign of movement.”
For a few moments, we all simply stood there, guns trained on the foreign ship as it sat idly in the cargo bay. No one spoke. No one moved.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Freddie standing unnaturally still.
“Breathe, Freddie,” I said.
He sucked in a deep breath, confirming my assumption that he had stopped breathing altogether.
“Siggy, you getting anything?” I asked.
“Negative, sir,” said the Cognitive. “The ship appears to be empty. I will initialize a deep scan at once to confirm.”
Good. By now, we would have picked up something to indicate that there was, in fact, something on board. There would have been some small clue that gave it away, and I was beginning to think we had, in fact, stumbled upon an abandoned Celestial ship.
Thank the gods, because I did not want a firefight in my cargo bay.
I nodded toward the open door. “Rackham, you and your guys make sure it’s clear.”
“Are we that expendable, Captain?” Lieutenant Rackham said with a wry smile, his gun still trained on the ship.
“You want to be a part of this historic moment, don’t you?” I grinned and gestured at the Celestial vessel. “Go participate.”
He chuckled and shook his head ruefully, but c
omplied with my command. Talk about a surreal feeling.
Rackham and his team approached the ship, his men a great deal more tense than him as they entered the small ship and quickly scoped every inch of it.
Yeah, I liked seeing his men flinch as they shoved their way into the tiny ship that should really only handle two or three people at the most—but there was more to this plan of mine. I figured with seven guys in a ship that small, they would bump into whatever Celestial might’ve been cloaked and hidden. There was barely any space to move in there, much less remain cloaked, and that was about the only way I would feel content to say the ship was clear.
Plus, I liked watching Union soldiers shoved together like an overstuffed sock drawer. It was fun to see them squirm.
When they confirmed there was, in fact, nothing in there, I sent Lucia and her people in to double check. I mostly wanted to make sure Rackham wasn’t lying to me.
“It’s clear,” Lucia said with a curt nod, leaning out of the ship as her soldiers continued to scan every inch of the interior.
“Thank the gods,” Freddie muttered.
I nodded and holstered my gun while Abigail looped her rifle over her shoulder.
“Captain,” Rackham said, joining us. “If I may have a word in private?”
I raised one eyebrow, curious, and decided to indulge him. Abigail and I shared a quick glance, and she knew what it meant—if Rackham’s guys gave her any trouble at all, she would shoot them dead. If it came to that, I figured she knew better than to use the neutronium bullets on Union guys. The neutronium was too valuable.
Rackham and I headed for the captain’s office, which was thankfully a short walk, so I didn’t have to get into any small talk with the man. As we stepped inside, he closed the door behind him.
