Excalibur

by Tim Marquitz

  “Define good?”

  She groaned and found a seat, dropping into it as Albion settled beside her. “I’m thinking this was a bad decision on my part.”

  “Just now?” Albion asked, grinning at him as the designate sat ahead of them, two armored Marines standing at the door as it hissed shut. “I could have told you that while we were still on Saturnus, drinking booze and staring at the stars.”

  “Yet you didn’t.”

  He shrugged. “This has to be done,” he told her. “Mind you, I don’t think it will accomplish anything, but if it lets you blow off a little steam and relieves a little of the guilt that’s piled on your conscience, then it’s worth it, right?”

  She didn’t answer.

  Albion, not willing to push, leaned back in the seat as the shuttle shot off toward Covenant Command. He knew the government would stonewall them, and Mara knew it, too, but if there was a chance at answers for how the Xebedon had reached so deeply into allied space, the only place to find them was there.

  Besides that, if Command didn’t know the aliens had infiltrated their space, Mara could haggle with them in order to replace her ship, if nothing else.

  The shuttle ride was short and sweet, the craft settling ten minutes later on an enclosed landing field directly connected to the administration building of Covenant Command. The pair were ushered outside and across a small courtyard, then through a board corridor that led into the bowels of the compound. Uniformed personnel streamed past them in both directions, very few bothering to take time out to even glance at them. Then, the designate veered off the main concourse and led them through a quieter hallway until they reached a pair of double doors. Chairs lined both walls outside the doors.

  While Albion had been to Command before, he’d never been taken before the chancellor so he didn’t know what to expect, though he suspected there would be a long wait involved. That’s how it always is.

  However, the designate wasted no time. She opened one of the doors, it swinging inward without a sound, and waved them inside. Once they stepped into the room, she shut the door behind them.

  Given the grandiosity of Command, Albion had pictured a colossus of a room where politicians and military personnel were seated all around, bickering and complaining and demanding every statement be noted in triplicate and witnessed by a thousand people. He was disappointed.

  The room was little bigger than the bridge of the Excalibur. The walls were covered in bookshelves that ran from floor to ceiling, and the musty scent of actual books filled the room. Albion stared at them, reading the titles, surprised at how many ancient texts had been brought together in one place. It seemed…decadent.

  Mara nudged him to get his attention, and he returned his focus to the task at hand, Designate Corun leading them forward along a deep, crimson rug, to a large oak desk that sat near the far end of the room. Its face had a scanner set prominently in the center, a few knickknacks scattered around, but the seat behind it was empty. That’s when Albion noticed the door in the corner of the room, nearly obscured by the wall-to-wall bookshelves.

  Designate Corun waved them to the two leather chairs that sat before the desk. “The chancellor will be with you soon.” Without another word, she circled around and took up position behind them as they waited.

  Just about the time Albion became uncomfortable with the woman’s hovering, the door in the corner opened and the chancellor, who Albion knew from holo-vids, entered the room. She wasn’t alone, however. Vice Admiral Vance trailed behind her, a crooked smirk on his lips aimed at Albion.

  Mara stood and greeted them as they entered. Albion followed suit, biting back a groan at seeing Vance there. Albion hadn’t expected much from the meeting, but Vance’s presence all but guaranteed they would be on the defensive the entire time.

  “Good afternoon, Captains,” Chancellor Albright said, waving to the chairs. “Please, have a seat. I apologize for the delay.”

  Despite her advancing age, Albright easily in her early hundreds, she moved with a dancer’s grace. Slim, her movements unrestricted by the silken robes she wore, she eased behind the desk and settled into her chair without complaint. Vance took up position behind her right shoulder, the move as much a declaration of his political leanings as it was his oft-stated belief as to the righteousness of his existence.

  “So, Captains, I have read the report of your message, yet I find very little of substance within its pages. I understand you,” she glanced at Mara, brown eyes peering out from under red locks, “lost your ship in the attempted execution of a Covenant contract, yet there is nothing to explain how. Care to elaborate?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Mara nodded. “I’ll skip the mission details as you no doubt already know them, however, what you might not know is that, when I arrived at the Denzo Outpost, the station was no longer there.”

  “It happens often enough out on the fringes,” Vance said, straightening as if his statement were a blow struck on the battlefield. Albion wanted to say something, but he kept his mouth shut. Mara could handle herself well enough, he knew.

  “It does indeed, Vice Admiral, however, its disappearance is symptomatic of a larger problem.”

  “And that problem is?” the chancellor asked.

  “The Xebedon have returned and are doing more than just testing our borders, ma’am.”

  Chancellor Albright had an impressive poker face, Albion realized then. She didn’t so much as flinch at the mention of the aliens being so deep inside allied space. She simply sat quietly, waiting for Mara to elaborate. Vance, however, broke into a grin.

  “And what makes you think this, Captain?” Albright asked.

  “They attacked my ship after we left Denzo, well, the Denzo coordinates. I ordered the Ithaca to return to deep allied space since I was unable to contact Command from that location.”

  “And why is it you couldn’t just message them from Denzo, huh?” Albion asked, matching Vance’s grin with his own. Albright’s eyes narrowed.

  “Because it seems that the military is blocking transmissions on all channels,” she answered without a hint of reluctance. Albion glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and saw the flush of her cheeks, the gleam of her irises as her anger slipped its leash. “Then, after we were attacked by two Xebedon destroyers in the space lanes, my crew captured, that same communication blockade kept my distress signal from being heard.”

  “Except by that scavenger horde that recently set its sights on New Orion. You know, ships that prey on stranded Covenant craft in distress. They received the message loud and clear, which was the only reason we were able to find the Ithaca. They would be dead otherwise, no thanks to Command.” Mara’s frustration was contagious, and Albion found himself sneering at the vice admiral over Albright’s shoulder.

  Watch your tone, Captain.” Vance leaned forward, appearing ready to dive across the desk at Albion.

  “Should he need to?” Mara asked. “My crew was taken hostage by Xebedonian invaders deep in our territory, and my ship was destroyed. And yet communications have been severed within allied space while hostile alien forces roam free?”

  Vance went to speak but Albright raised a hand. He stiffened and went silent.

  Good dog, Albion thought, barely able to keep from speaking his mind.

  “While I acknowledge there have been several sightings of Xebedonian crafts at the fringes of the outer rim, all instances of which have been dealt with, there is no evidence they have breached our space, and I am assured by Vice Admiral Vance that no such incursions have occurred.”

  “No evidence?” Mara jumped to her feet. “The wreck of my ship floating in space, my crew captured, is all you should need. I am your evidence, Chancellor. My dead and missing crew are your evidence.”

  “These aliens do not take hostages, Captain. Not once, in all our interactions with the bugs, is there a single incidence of them taking hostages,” Vance told her, shaking his head. “The fact that you would claim such goes to show
how unreliable your testimony is.”

  Mara growled, opening her mouth to speak, but Chancellor Albright cut her off

  “Do you have your logs or system files to corroborate such a claim, Captain Rellith?”

  “I do not, ma’am,” she answered with a snarl. “The Ithaca’s power fell as Captain Albion arrived to pull us from her. My ship is a dead heap floating in space.”

  Vance burst into laughter. “So, Captain Albion just happens to appear after your ship was attacked by Xebedonian destroyers, him flying to the rescue in, dare I say it, a captured Xebedonian destroyer?” He turned a fiery glare on Albion.

  “I know what you’re—”

  “Then you know how ludicrous you sound, Captain.” Vance slammed a fist on the desk. “Either you are too blinded by your relationship with Captain Albion that you can’t see his obvious attempt to make Command look like a fool for his righteous dismissal from service, or you are simply a fool, though both equate to much the same thing,” he said. “Or perhaps it’s us you think the fool. Is that it, Captain Rellith? Have you joined him in his quest for whatever attempt at mad retribution is?” He shook his head. “Regardless, neither of you will profit from this blatant attempt at manipulation.”

  Mara stood there, stun clear in her expression. “What…what are you implying, Vice Admiral?”

  “That Albion’s attempt at manipulating Command to salve his wounded pride will not work.” He turned from Albion and jabbed a finger at Mara. “And that your efforts at claiming you were attacked by Xebedons in allied space on a Covenant mission in order to get Command to advance you enough credits to purchase a new ship, with zero evidence of the Ithaca’s destruction to back your claim, have also failed.”

  “You think I would—?”

  Albright stood, silencing Mara with the movement. “I’m sorry, Captain. As Vice Admiral Vance stated, the circumstances of your complaint are suspicious and also, given the nature of yours and Captain Albion’s dismissal from Covenant service, I find it difficult to find your claims as credible. Neither of you has earned Covenant’s trust for your records of insubordination. As such, you leave me no choice.” She tapped the scanner on the desk, bringing it to life, her fingers dancing across the screen. “Effective immediately, your charter with Covenant has been revoked. I wish you luck in your future endeavors, Captain Rellith and, if I might offer you some advice, it’s in your best interest to evaluate your associations before they pull you down further.” Her gaze drifted to Albion, the barest glimmer of a sneer on her lips.

  Then Chancellor Albright walked off without another word, slipping through the door and disappearing As Mara stood frozen in place. Vice Admiral Vance chuckled as he followed the chancellor, clearly dragging his feet to let her get ahead of him, out of earshot.

  “I don’t know what your game is, Captains, but you will find no one here foolish enough to get dragged into it.” He gestured to the designate. “Be sure to see these people back to their ship without any detours. I want them off-planet the minute their hatch closes behind them, understood?”

  Designate Corun nodded. “This way, Captains.” Her voice was clipped and even sharper than before.

  Albion couldn’t help but flip the Vice Admiral the bird, but Vance was already out the door.

  As they marched toward the shuttle, Albion leaned in against Mara. “I know where we can find a scuttled scavenger ship you can sell for scrap. Interested?”

  Despite her fury, she chuckled and glanced over at him. “You in the salvage business now?”

  “Only when I need to be.” He shrugged. “Plus, I’ve a few plas-stones to sweeten the deal.” Albion saw the renovations of the Excalibur slipping through his fingers at the offer, but he couldn’t stand to see Mara floundering, lost without her ship. A captain with no craft to command might as well be dead, he remembered his training officer say. And he was right. “So, what do you say? Might be enough for a down payment on a new freighter, if nothing else.”

  She sighed, her smile dropping away as she met his eyes. “You would do that for me?”

  “Of course, I would. We’re in cahoots, remember?” He grinned, head still spinning from Vance’s accusations.

  She wrapped her arm around his waist and pulled herself into his side as they walked. “You’re an idiot, you know that?”

  Albion nodded. “That seems to be the consensus,” he answered, grinning. “Now let’s get you a ship.”

  Seven

  Sector 024 and 027, Allied Space

  Once the Excalibur was free of Belltros’s defensive ring, and no longer in danger of an errant attack, Albion ordered Choi to jump into hyperspace and return them to the coordinates where they’d left the scavenger ship after receiving Mara’s distress signal.

  Mara below deck with Cole as the ship navigated hyperspace, Albion sat in his chair watching the stars whirl past. Lyana glanced at him over her shoulder, having done it a handful of times, each time turning back to her station without saying anything. When she did it again, he called her on it.

  “Seriously, Lyana, just spit it out. You’re going to give yourself whiplash.”

  She cleared her throat. “Look, it’s not my place—”

  “It most certainly is not your place,” he told her, “but you’re going to tell me what you think anyway so, please, just get on with it. I’m dying to know.”

  Lyana chuckled. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  “This conversation? No, not really.”

  “Come on now, you know what I mean. We’ve been scraping by since the Covenant pulled our charter, and now you want to spend what extra credits we have to buy your ex-wife a ship?” She spun her chair around to look at him. “As much as I would normally stay out of your business—”

  Choi burst into laughter, and Randall looked away, hiding his face behind his hand.

  “Okay, so maybe I wouldn’t stay out of your business,” she said, glaring at the two men before looking back to Albion, “but this is crazy. If there truly are Xebedons floating about allied space, and I trust that there are, no misunderstanding, then we’re going to need all the funds we can get our hands on to keep from getting caught up in the fight. If I were you, and I’m clearly not,” she put her hands on her breasts, “I’m much too pretty for that obviously, but I think it makes more sense to spend the credits on the retrofits. You know, make this heap more comfortable, more able to extend our deep space survival.”

  “She’s not wrong,” Choi said.

  “What, that her breasts are nicer than mine?” Albion asked.

  Choi shrugged. “That goes without saying, Cap, but I meant about the holding onto the money part.”

  Albion sighed. She wasn’t wrong, though he hated to admit it. Covenant Command was hiding something, and it clearly had something to do with the Xebedons. He could see them standing on news regarding the aliens testing the borders of the outer rim, but why would they deny the incursion into deep allied space? What purpose did it serve? If the aliens had returned to seek vengeance for the destruction of their home world, it made sense that the military would want to organize everyone to meet the invasion head on before it was too late. And if the military was denying the return of the aliens, which Albion knew was blatantly wrong, allied space would soon be a battlefield. One that promised no kindness to a captain and crew who had adopted a ship made by the enemy. They wouldn’t last long if they stuck around, running for deep space their only real chance at survival.

  Albion let everything swirl about inside his head, the crew turning back to their jobs when they realized he’d ended the conversation. His hands played at the armrests of his chair, and he felt a tingle wash over him as Choi pulled them from hyperspace, the blur of the view screen returning to normal. Dark, empty space splayed out before them.

  He rose from his seat and motioned for Lyana to follow. “Tell us when we’re over the ship, Choi. We’ll be below deck, getting ready.”

  “Uh, what ship?” Choi asked, his han
ds hard at work on his console.

  Albion spun about, eyes on the view screen. “What are you talking about?”

  “The ship’s not here anymore,” the helmsman answered.

  “I presume you adjusted for drift?” Lyana asked.

  He stared daggers at her. “Of course, I did.”

  “Then where is it?” Albion asked, returning to his chair.

  Choi shrugged. “There’s no way it would have drifted far enough to not show up on local scans so I’m activating the tracker Crate tagged it with.”

  Albion groaned and slumped back in his seat. “That means someone took it.”

  “Someone took what?”

  Albion spun around to see Mara enter the bridge. “The horde ship vanished.”

  “Ah.” She came over and stood alongside his chair. “That’s…unfortunate.”

  He nodded. “We’re tracking it down though so it shouldn’t be long.”

  “Just a matter of who took it. Could be more scavengers or an army of Xebedons.” Randall said. All eyes swung his way, the temperature on the bridge rising. “What?”

  Albion chuckled. “Keep your scans running, Mr. Clueless, and let the rest of us be the ones to toss out attempts at pacification, please. You really suck at it.”

  He muttered and looked back to his console.

  Mara chuckled. “It’s fine, Ensign Harkon. I’m a realist, and I don’t mind hearing what is likely the truth of the matter.” She turned to Albion. “Speaking of, I’ve no expectation of you putting your crew or ship at risk for me. If this scavenger craft can be found easily and without hassle, then wonderful. Otherwise, it’s not worth the danger. Understood?”

  “You tell him, Sister!” Lyana called out from her chair, thumb jutting in the air. She glanced at Mara and grinned, gaze lingering.

  “Eye on the prize,” Albion told her, pointing to her console.

  “Speaking of which, sir,” Choi said. “I’ve picked up the tag. It’s maybe fifty parsecs away and counting.”