Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
FIREFIGHT
Steiner drew his AT-7 and fired at the supports under the shelves that lined the rear wall. The structure collapsed, raining bottles down on the two figures that bolted upward. The assassins covered their heads, trying to protect themselves from the descending wave of glass and liquors. A wooden piece from the shelves sparked from Steiner’s blasts. Flames burst out around the two men, exploding upward, consuming the falling liquids in flight.
The heat from the sudden eruption forced Steiner to shield his face. He stumbled back in surprise. Never had he expected such a reaction from low-alcoholic substances, unless—
One of the burning assassins aimed a gun. A bolt from Steiner’s AT-7 ripped through the man’s chest before he could open fire. The lifeless body sank into a flaming grave.
Before Steiner had a chance to seek out the other assassin, he saw something being swung at him from a corner of his vision. He ducked, but not in time to avoid being clipped in the shoulder by a chair. The force of the blow threw him to the floor. When he collided with the cold unyielding surface, he lost hold of his weapon …
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PRISON SHIP
An Ace Book / published by arrangement with the author
PRINTING HISTORY
Ace mass-market edition / January 2010
Copyright © 2010 by Michael Bowers.
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Thanks, Bonnie, for the encouragement
and for introducing me to Jack
CHAPTER 1
2435: Six years after the start of the Galactic Civil War
“BATTLE stations,” McKillip barked as he stepped into the command center.
Commander Jacob Steiner activated the alarm and watched from his console as each deck of their vessel, the U.S.S. Valiant, acknowledged the alert. He glanced up at McKillip, who strolled through the command staff, monitoring them as they prepared the ship for combat. At six feet two, the fifty-nine-year-old captain stood three inches taller than Steiner and possessed the strength of a man twenty years younger. Around his waist, he wore a sash in his family pattern, with an embroidered crest as a tribute to his sto ried ancestry. His dark, silver-streaked beard dominated his wrinkled face, creating an aura of fatherly wisdom that Steiner found most appealing about the man. Steiner had grown his own sandy-colored beard in the hope that it looked half as dignified.
“Lieutenant Riggs, plot a course into Sector 489, deep into enemy space,” McKillip finally announced.
Suzanne Riggs shot Steiner a fiery glance. She had never liked surprises. She prided herself on staying in the loop, but Steiner was in the dark as much as she was. A slight shrug of his shoulders confirmed that when she looked his way inquiringly. Pursing her lips together, she spun back to her console and worked furiously at her assigned task.
McKillip stepped up to Steiner. “Activate the ship’s intercom.”
Steiner opened a channel to the hundred other crew members on board.
The captain took a deep breath. “We have been ordered into Sector 489 of enemy space to assist the Excalibur and the Cheyenne, both returning from a reconnaissance mission. It will be dangerous because of all the enemy activity in the area.” McKillip’s gaze froze on Steiner as he closed the intercom. “These orders came from him,” McKillip whispered.
Steiner knew instantly whom he was referring to, Admiral Ralph Jamison on the War Council. Their history with the admiral had begun six years ago, right before the Galactic Civil War broke out. Back then, when loyalties were divided among the officers of the United Star Systems, it looked more and more likely that the democratic planetary union would fall to the Separatists’ New Order Empire without a fight. Captain McKillip had begun forming a close-knit team of officers he knew would not be tempted by Separatist bribes. A student of history, he’d called this newly formed covert team the Cyrian Defense, after Cyrus the Great’s un-challenged, overnight conquest of Babylonia—the exact fate he worried awaited the U.S.S. McKillip had asked Steiner to join his undercover team, and they had succeeded in exposing a massive conspiracy and preventing an assassination attempt on the President of the United Star Systems. By chance, Admiral Jamison had had a peripheral involvement in the operation, and he had exaggerated his role and assumed all the credit, making himself a national hero. Happy to keep the profile of the members of the Cyrian Defense low, McKillip had remained silent as Congress and the president promoted Admiral Jamison to Chief Military Officer of the U.S.S. Fleet.
But then the New Order Empire had attacked. In the after-math of the Day of Betrayal, as the attack became known,
Jamison showed his true colors. He did little to stop the rampant piracy plaguing a hobbled fleet, and when a cruise ship of civilians was taken hostage, McKillip sent a team, which infiltrated the vessel, freed the captives, and captured the leader of the pirates. But after being convicted in U.S.S. courts, the man received a pardon from President Lindsey at the behest of Admiral Jamison without any explanation. Since then, McKillip had made it his personal mission to use all his remaining contacts to collect any evidence connecting Jamison to the pirating ring. He blamed himself for enabling Jamison to become a leech on the United Star Systems.
And now Jamison was giving them orders.
“Do you think he knows you’ve been investigating him?” Steiner whispered.
McKillip stood confidently in the middle of the command center, meeting each uncertain glance by the crew members around him as they prepared for battle. He replied softly, his eyes averted, “Well, if the Excalibur and the Cheyenne are not there, we’ll know for certain.”
“Have you notified Judith?” Steiner asked, referring to McKillip’s wife.
“She’ll deliver my files to the rest of the War Council if anything happens to us.”
“Course plotted, sir,” Suzanne called out.
“Thank you, Lieutenant. Commander, inform the crew.”
“All stations, prepare for a starspeed jump,” Steiner announced over the ship’s intercom. His stomach tightened in expectation of the dimensional shift about to occur. He had never quite become accustomed to it. His hands tightened on the console, yet he willed his facial muscles to show none of his inner anxiety. Barely audible whines could be heard around the command center as the crew activated the energy-stasis fields securing them to their seats. McKillip strolled to his command chair and activated his.
“Phase to starspeed,” McKillip said.
Steiner clenched his console tightly. The stars in the viewports disappeared as his insides lurched. His vision blurred. He swallowed hard to keep the bile from coming up his throat. Slowly, his stomach began to relax, and his vision cleared.
“Phase successful,” Riggs announced.
The star field flashed briefly every few seconds as Suzanne phased the ship back and forth in a rapid succession of short hops, directing their path toward enemy space.
As Steiner stared at the hypnotic flickers on the viewscreen, his thoughts drifted to how tragic it would be if this mission was to be their last. All the efforts they had made to preserve the Union might be rewarded with death by the hand of a criminal they had unknowingly helped into power. Steiner glanced down at the white-gold ring on his finger. If death did await him, at least Mary would be there waiting for him. On February 18, 2429, six months before the Day of Betrayal, a tragic accident had stolen his wife away from him, forever. The white-gold ring on Steiner’s finger began to feel heavier and heavier. Steiner closed his eyes, remembering the scent of her perfume. Her emerald eyes glistened at him as she pulled back her dark hair to reveal the star-shaped earrings that he had given her to celebrate his promotion to Executive Officer. Her musical voice penetrated his being, melting all his defenses. “If you miss your own child’s birth, Commander, I’ll make sure you’re court-martialed.” She lifted his hand and kissed his wedding band. “I love you.” She headed toward the shuttle on the launching pad, touching his hand with hers until their fingertips lost contact.
“Commander,” McKillip said sternly, snapping Steiner back to reality. The captain’s gaze scolded him. “Any sign of the Excalibur or the Cheyenneon your sensors?”
“No, sir,” Steiner replied.
McKillip gave a short nod.
Steiner cursed himself under his breath. McKillip needed him now more than ever. He had to remain alert. A light appeared on his console, followed by a warning tone. His heart sank as he interpreted the readout.
“How many?” McKillip asked.
“Three enemy battlecruisers are on an intercept course. No sign of the Excalibur or the Cheyenne.”
“Abort the mission. Lieutenant Riggs, take us back.”
Suzanne dephased the ship, reversed course, and phased again.
Steiner didn’t even feel it this time. His insides were already burning with fury. Another vessel suddenly appeared directly in their path, blocking the way, but it was no ordinary battlecruiser. “Dreadnaught directly ahead,” he said.
McKillip locked gazes with him, his expression hardening.
“Enemy ships are thirty seconds from jamming range,” Riggs announced.
“What’s the nearest U.S.S. outpost on the border?” McKillip asked.
“Falcon two-six is within range,” Riggs replied, her short-cropped red hair spinning with the movement of her head.
“Adjust course to get us as close as possible. Lieutenant Majors, contact the commanding officer and tell him that we will require assistance.”
Steiner fought back the anger, focusing on the multicolored displays before him. “They have already sensed us and have deployed armed drones to help protect us once we are in United Star Systems territory.”
“Good. Put me through to the entire ship.” McKillip paused as Steiner opened the intercom. “We are nearing the border and help is awaiting us on the other side. Four enemy vessels are closing on us. We cannot fight them all single handedly. Our only chance is to run blind until we reach the border.”
Riggs’s hazel eyes met Steiner’s, reflecting something he’d never expected to see in them. Terror. She knew, as well as he, that ships rarely survived a blinded flight at starspeed without colliding with an asteroid or other stellar debris. Without precise navigation, the interdimensional jumps could not be controlled. They would have no idea even of the direction they were traveling in.
“God will protect the just and upright this day,” McKillip continued. “We shall survive.”
Steiner resented any deity that would deny him a future with Mary. God had nothing to do with their current situation—Jamison did. On the tactical display, the gap between the Valiantand the intercepting vessels narrowed. His fingers rubbed his wedding ring.
The helm console’s readouts went dark. Riggs pivoted around. “We’re being jammed, sir.”
“Maintain course the best you can.”
Beads of perspiration dotted Riggs’s brow as she continued her succession of jumps blindly.
McKillip’s left hand gripped his patterned sash. His wrinkled cheek twitched.
Steiner kissed his ring.
“We should have crossed into U.S.S. space by now,” Riggs shouted.
Steiner’s breath caught in his chest.
“Dephase,” McKillip ordered.
When the light of the stars reappeared, a collective sigh of relief rose from the back of the command center.
A warning indicator lit up on Steiner’s console. Something was headed straight at them.
“Plasma missile closing in from directly astern,” Steiner said, as the blinking object penetrated their defensive grid.
“Evasive man—” McKillip began, just as the Valiant shuddered violently.
Primary powered lights blinked as distant eruptions were heard. Damage reports from all over the ship clogged the communication channels.
Steiner focused on his display. His heart sank when he noticed the unusual pattern of lights on the interior sensor grid. The engine chamber had been decompressed. Franco, Ching, Mac, the shipmates he had grown to know for the last ten years, were gone in a millisecond. Even as he stared, the landing bay went dark. Doc and Miles were probably in there. He fought to keep from thinking about it as his world unraveled around him.
“How bad did they hit us?” McKillip demanded.
“Engine chamber and landing bays have been compromised. Engines inoperative. Primary generators fluctuating.”
“Position report,” McKillip barked.
“We missed our mark, sir.” Riggs triangulated their course on the holographic viewer as she continued. “We are in United Star Systems space, but we are too f
ar from Falcon two-six to get immediate cover from them.”
“The enemy vessels must have projected our exit point for the jump and fired a missile early,” McKillip said, moving to the tactical display.
A new alarm sounded as a red object appeared in the display, next to the dreadnaught.
McKillip frowned. “They must be determined to destroy us.”
Steiner glanced at the readout. “Countermeasures are barely operative.”
“Signal all hands to abandon ship,” McKillip said.
Steiner activated the alarm on his console. The tones echoed throughout the ship.
“Lieutenant Riggs,” McKillip said, “oversee the evacuation.”
“Yes, sir.” She bolted up from her chair and helped the rest of the command crew to file down the outside corridor.
Before the second missile reached midpoint, a third was launched.
“Go, sir,” Steiner said. “I’ll stay to the last moment.”
“Not yet.” McKillip went to the communication console and unlocked the panel’s hood. He lifted the instrument panel, exposing the brightly lit interior.
“What are you doing, sir?”
“We need the communication logs. It’s the only evidence that we were ordered on that suicide mission.”
The readout on the tactical display flickered a few times. Steiner had resigned himself to joining Mary, but now he wanted only to give McKillip enough time to obtain the evidence against the admiral. When the missile closed within forty thousand meters, Steiner fired the countermeasures. The missile evaporated harmlessly into a flash in the darkness outside the viewports. Within the flash, he saw Mary. He blinked back the tears starting to form. On his readout he saw twelve lifepods departing the ship just like Mary’s shuttle had departed the depot that fateful day.
Mary waved to him as she embarked on the shuttle. He watched himself press his hands against the transparency in the guest lounge in reply. The craft lifted into the air, trailing liquid across the launching pad. When he realized it was fuel leaking out, he beat against the window, shouting in vain for the craft to return.
Prison Ship Page 1
