Joe Devlin: And the Renegades’ Toil (Space Academy Series Book 5)

by James Thomas

  The lieutenant was still in her ISF uniform, while the rest of the crew had changed into civilian clothing. She was staring at Joe intently. She had black hair tied into a ponytail behind her, down to her shoulder bone. Lieutenant Wun was slightly taller than Joe and about ten cycles older, but her skin was perfectly smooth, giving her a much younger look than her age.

  “Cadet Devlin,” said Lieutenant Wun.

  “Ma’am, you know me?” Joe sounded surprised. He was looking for her.

  “Oh, yes. I once served under your father. I’m also aware of your little Star Fighter battle on Bandor and even your previous trip to Huldra. You Devlins seem to be always up to something. But you . . . you particularly are very consistent in breaking ISF regulations, and boy, do you break them.”

  “Yes, something like that,” said Joe in a somber tone.

  Lieutenant Wun, sensing Joe’s toned-down demeanor, shifted her voice to a more reassuring one. She added, “Yet, in the end, Admiral Pearson made a mistake taking credit for something he didn’t have a hand in. Surely, you know who really destroyed the Grax space station! Not to mention that the admiral left the bridge in the heat of the battle, and Captain Strata had to take over. Anyway, you can count me in as a traitor if it means standing up to leaders like him.”

  “Yes, my friend Brock told me of that tale and he . . .,” Joe suddenly stopped talking and seemed to hold back. He had an actual plan, which was unusual for him, but it was still crazy. In the past, he had just stepped forward and figured it out, but not this time. This one would be different.

  “And . . .?” said Lieutenant Wun. “Oh, yes,” replied Joe with no intention to continue his previous sentence. Wanting to ask her for a favor, he changed the direction of the conversation, adding, “My father told me that, without you, this rescue wouldn’t have happened!”

  “Yes, my squadron helped out a little outside of Fandor,” said Lieutenant Wun.

  Joe was not quite sure how to broach the subject. He appeared to be puzzled, searching for his way.

  “It looks like you have something on your mind,” said Lieutenant Wun, “or else you wouldn’t be hanging out in this zoo of a passageway.”

  “Yes, Ma’am,” replied Joe. “I’m not sure of where to start.”

  “I like it when a person gets to the point,” said Lieutenant Wun. “Fast!”

  “Okay, do you still have operational Star Fighters with you?” asked Joe.

  “Yes, why?” answered Lieutenant Wun.

  “Because I need to borrow one,” blurted Joe.

  “Well, I would say that’s a ridiculous request from a cadet, but you’re no normal cadet and you are probably just as experienced as I at flying a Star Fighter. Though, I’m almost afraid to ask with your reputation, but why do you need one?” asked Lieutenant Wun.

  “You’re going to think it’s crazy,” replied Joe.

  “I think we’re past that point,” said Lieutenant Wun. “So, shoot me with it.”

  “Joe, are you sure that you can trust her?” Augie spoke internally.

  Joe was getting used to Augie, and he replied internally so Lieutenant Wun could not hear. “Augie, it was your idea. Anyway, hold on, and trust me.”

  “Lieutenant Wun, can we go somewhere else to discuss this?” asked Joe.

  Stepping into a side room, Joe whispered his plan to Lieutenant Wun while she remained quiet. Even as he finished speaking, she initially did not respond but looked alarmed.

  “That’s . . . probably the craziest thing I have ever heard. Does your father know of your plans?” asked Lieutenant Wun.

  “Not exactly!” replied Joe.

  “And you’re not planning on telling him, are you?” said Lieutenant Wun. “That’s why you came to me in the first place.”

  “Not exactly!” said Joe.

  “Well, that’s not exactly wise. I mean, you’re a cadet, but at the same time you have already accomplished things that I would not have thought possible,” said Lieutenant Wun. “And you’re saying it’s all because of this medallion?”

  “Yes!” replied Joe. “It’s a crazy idea from the Tourian God boy and my AI thinks it’s plausible.”

  “Well, at least that’s more exact,” replied Lieutenant Wun. ‘‘Plausible is like flipping a coin and you think it’s going to be heads fifty percent of the time.”

  “As for your father, he’s going to have to know if you want to use a star fighter, okay? And I believe borrowing the star fighter is probably the easier part of your plan. A darn crazy one at that! You Devlins!”

  ***

  “Commodore Devlin, all ships have reported in and are ready for departure,” said Captain Brock. “And Sir, the solar flares from Huldra’s star are dangerously high. I think we have a problem.”

  “What kind?” asked Commodore Devlin.

  “Sir, our shields might not hold up against the solar flares. Their star is very unstable and maybe . . .” Brock paused.

  “Maybe what?” asked Commodore Devlin.

  “Sir, it could explode,” replied Captain Brock.

  “Okay, how long will the shields last against the flares? We have to surrender to ISF Asteria upon reaching Space and that will cause a delay,” said Commodore Devlin.

  “It’s hard to tell. Suppose no flares occur, then no issues, but if more than two of the right bursts occur within short proximity, we can lose our engines, life support, or worse. Worse being, we lose everyone on board since we don’t have shields to block the gamma rays,” said Captain Brock.

  “Understood. Prepare to have all vessels launch in pairs of two. We don’t have a choice and I hope Captain Strata knows the same,” said Commodore Devlin. As soon as he finished, the ship’s bridge door had opened, and his son Joe was in the doorway.

  “Captain, permission to enter the bridge,” requested Joe to Brock.

  “Enter the bridge,” replied Brock.

  “Joe, you’re staying with me,” said Commodore Devlin without hesitation.

  “Dad, we need to talk,” said Joe.

  “Joe, there’s no time. Buckle in and prepare for liftoff,” replied Commodore Devlin.

  “Dad, really, I need to talk to you now,” Joe’s sassy tone made his father roll his eyes like they were at home.

  “Joe, sit,” said his father. “This is not the time nor the place.”

  “I need to use a star fighter,” blurted out Joe.

  “Absolutely not! Now sit,” said Commodore Devlin.

  “But the suns flares,” said Joe.

  “I already know. We don’t have time for this now. You’re going to have to wait until we hit Space,” Commodore Devlin stated, hoping Joe just for once would listen. The crew on the bridge remained silent as they listened. Brock and the others watched in amazement as the son and father argued.

  Commodore Devlin was not having it and simply tuned out Joe and started commanding the other ships.

  “Task Force Ninety-nine, launch,” ordered Commodore Devlin. Each vessel lifted and maneuvered into pairs before starting to ascend. The noise of all the ships launching in tandem was deafening.

  By the time the Commodore took the lead with the task force trailing him, Joe had snuck off the bridge under the cover of noise.

  Once the noise level returned to normal, the bridge door opened again to Lieutenant Wun. “Captain, permission to enter the bridge?”

  “Enter the bridge,” replied Captain Brock. He could easily get use to this captain stuff. It was empowering.

  “Lieutenant Wun, how’s everything in the back?” asked Commodore Devlin.

  “Sir, it’s packed but workable. Do you mind if I watch the show from here?” asked Lieutenant Wun.

  “Sure, sit next to my son,” answered Commodore Devlin.

  “Sir, but he’s . . .,” said Lieutenant Wun stunned. “He just launched the Star Fighter. Didn’t he talk to you?”

  The Commodore turned and looked at the empty seat where Joe had sat earlier. “What! No—why would I do that?”
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  “So, he didn’t tell you of his foolish plan?” replied Lieutenant Wun.

  “Lieutenant fill me in,” said the Commodore in a frazzled tone.

  27

  DISSOLUTE

  Task Force Ninety-nine broke through and away the gravitational well of Planet Huldra and out into Space. The ships’ departure from the planet was a magnificent sight to behold, especially after they had just pulled off an impossible rescue deep in enemy territory. They had succeeded not only against the odds, which were not even calculable. Zero. However, the task force now faced the ISF Asteria and a dying star, both unwelcoming sights.

  ISF Asteria was commanded by Captain Strata, who was not a desk commander, as most commanding officers had become after the Tri-Sun War. Desk commanders were known for avoiding any problems that did not help their career. Captain Strata was the opposite; he loved deployment. Especially, with commander’s authority and belonging to a crew. His crew. But he treated them as peers, and that helped command their respect in return.

  In no way did this make him a rogue leader. Captain Strata followed his mission orders, but he was not afraid to take the initiative or to fix a wrong. He had always weighed those choices against his assigned missions, but balanced them with patience and a good understanding of military politics, although he was no politician.

  Captain Strata disliked officers who only sought after what he called battlefield circulation. Those people would travel to locations to create associations with certain names to obtain recognition and medals while others had done the work. Admiral Pearson was one of those folks.

  Behind ISF Asteria, Huldra’s star pulsated unevenly. It had changed into a White Dwarf centuries earlier, after the original star had burnt through its hydrogen and helium. Now only its core lay behind, causing Huldra to freeze over. The planet’s surface had once been abundant with life, but now lay buried under meters of ice and snow. This forced the Grax into the Space to survive. Now, the star was once again changing. Solar flares were becoming the star’s last dying breath, placing the Grax, the rescue mission, and the ISF in immediate danger.

  “Captain Strata, I turn my task force over to your good hands,” spoke Commodore Devlin over the communication frequency. “A lot of these refugees need medical attention.”

  “Commodore Devlin,” replied Captain Strata. “You have my assurance that your fleet will be protected. Standby for boarding the medical parties. All will be unarmed.”

  The ISF Asteria was a battle type cruiser, a group defender class warship designed to shield against attacks from multiple warships and any missile threat. The word, battle, added before cruiser meant that it was twice the size of a normal vessel, making the Tourian transport ships look like tiny shuttles in comparison.

  Its weapons were online and had been recently discharged with heavy emissions emanating from a clash with the Grax. The scene around them revealed the devastation of a one-sided skirmish. The Grax had been defeated with one ship and without Admiral Pearson, though the Grax had not yet surrendered their forces.

  “Captain Strata,” replied Commodore Devlin, “It seems you have been busy with the Grax. But before you send the boarding parties, I give you my reassurance that I will follow you to a jump point away from Huldra. As you have figured out from the data, Huldra’s white dwarf is highly unstable and my task force can’t afford to take any sun flares with its ancient shields. Not without serious risk to all life onboard.”

  Captain Strata was a seasoned combat veteran, but he did not like the scene before him, sitting between the Grax and the solar flares. This war had taken a toll on him both physically and mentally. He was tired. When the Grax attacked, the Captain had no choice but to return fire without a surrender. He had to protect Commodore Devlin’s rescue, even if it was against Admiral Pearson’s orders.

  Captain Strata’s career would soon be over due to his actions, which were treasonous against the Admiral. Yet, Captain Strata knew the other choice would have been a war crime, and he was at peace with the choice he made. It was the lesser of the two evils since the Grax never surrender and were known to fight to the last person. Jumping to a safer location would give him time to assess the situation without the risk of further attack.

  “Very well, Commodore, standby to receive coordinates. My scientists onboard agree with your assessment,” said Captain Strata.

  Admiral Pearson’s ISF fleet of battle cruisers had dropped out of hyperspace nearby. Yet, Captain Strata was unaware since the fleet were cloaked. The first sign that Admiral Pearson’s fleet had arrived was an incoming hail to the ISF Asteria.

  “Captain Strata,” said his Tactical Officer, “Admiral Pearson has dropped out of hyperspace. He’s ordering a private COM channel with you. And without delay.”

  “TAC-O, what’s his position?” asked Captain Strata, before adding, “Bring his fleet up on the viewing screen.”

  “Sir, his fleet remains cloaked. I can’t get a position,” replied the TAC-O.

  “Use the Force Tracker,” ordered Captain Strata.

  “Captain, Admiral Pearson has denied access to his fleet’s location,” said the TAC-O.

  “Very well, TAC-O, I’ll take the COM channel in my underway stateroom,” directed Captain Strata.

  ***

  “Captain! What have you done? Why haven’t those traitors been destroyed?” yelled Admiral Pearson over a visual communication screen. Admiral Pearson’s long-range sensors had registered and recorded the battle, but he had been helpless since he was unable to communicate during the hyperjump. He had watched his victory vanish before him, and this time it would be impossible to take credit for it.

  Captain Strata was already standing. “Sir, I won’t hurt innocent people. There are thousands of Tourians onboard, and intel now says that there are more mines with other slaves still on Huldra.”

  “Let me make myself clear! You are to follow your orders or you will get court-martialed. Understand?” ordered Admiral Pearson, his voice quavering with intense anger.

  Captain Strata remained perfectly calm as he replied, “Admiral, with respect, this war with the Grax is over. They’re defeated, with only a few ships left in proximity to Huldra, and only transport ships at a secondary point. I hadn’t intended to start a battle, but they attacked first and wouldn’t surrender. The Grax no longer have any real means to fight. Besides, we all need to leave this area immediately or we’ll be exposed to the damaging gamma rays from star. The star is on its last legs as you can see. I’ve already had my scientist send the results of my data to you.”

  Stunned, the Admiral yelled, “What!” in uncontrolled rage.

  But Captain Strata knew it was a rhetorical question.

  The Admiral’s anger tried to leap out of his body as his face and muscles twitched, but then he took a deep breath before adjusting his voice to a calmer tone. “You defeated the Grax,” he said evenly.

  “Yes, Admiral, they were no match for our cloaking technology. However, I discovered a problem with the . . .”

  “Silence you traitor!” said Admiral Pearson, cutting him off. But the Admiral did not continue speaking. Instead, he cut off the transmission.

  “TAC-O!” said Admiral Pearson. “Execute Order Ten-Charlie.”

  “Yes, Sir,” replied the TAC-O. “Helm, prepare to come about.” Then the TAC-O armed the ship’s weapons and shields. The helm answered. It was an enlisted position and handled driving the ship. But the helm could only fly the ship on the heading or direction ordered by an officer.

  Captain Strata watched as ISF Maiden cloaked itself, which momentarily confused him, but he was not stupid. The Admiral has just called him a traitor, so he had a good idea of what was in store for him. He just was not sure if he or the Tourians would be the target.

  Captain Strata ran onto the bridge, ready to call for defensive maneuvers. He had to make sure the transports had a fighting chance. “Coms, transmit the jump point to Commodore Devlin’s transports and tell them to jump withou
t delay,” said Captain Strata.

  Before the coms officer could acknowledge his request, the TAC-O met him at the entrance. “Captain Strata, we have a Grax ship converging on our coordinates. Unknown class.”

  “Where did that come from?” mused Captain Strata. The situation was quickly becoming victim to the fog of war.

  “Captain, it was masked behind their space station. I’m picking up a strange energy reading. I hadn’t seen levels this high before, except the last time they fired a fission weapon,” answered the TAC-O.

  “I thought the Grax combat vessels were defeated,” replied Captain Strata. “Are you sure it’s just not a transport ship?”

  “Sir, the whole ship seems to be a weapon with only a few lives onboard,” said the TAC-O. “The energy level is maxing out our sensors. It looks like the Grax have miniaturized the space station’s fission weapon. Sir, if we take a hit, it will completely destroy us.”

  “Where’s ISF Maiden” asked Captain Strata as he sighed in frustration.

  “Unknown, Sir,” replied the TAC-O. “They’re cloaked.”

  Captain Strata’s ship was situated between Huldra’s sun and the remains of the destroyed space station. The Grax vessel passed the station vestiges from the far side. The ship was built around the fission gun, rectangular in shape. Other than the forward steering bridge, the vessel had little structure aft of the bridge. Mostly struts and beams to hold the weapon.

  “Helm, do we have positioning room between the Admiral, the rescue vessels, and the Grax ship?” asked Captain Strata.

  “Sir, we have only one vector available since the transport ships began their hyperjumps,” answered the helm.

  “How many have jumped?” asked Captain Strata.

  “Twenty-two,” answered the COM Officer. “Seems several solar bursts have flared from the star knocking out all of the remaining vessels’ engines. No one is moving under their own propulsion.”