by Trevor Wyatt
“Christ!” he hissed as a shrill alarm sound filled the aircar; his gaze went from the dashboard screen to the windshield, and that just in time to avoid the large transport shuttle that had swerved onto his path. Moving fast, he gripped the controls tight and forced the aircar to tilt sideways, his heart beating too fast for a man his age.
He was already regretting his decision to drive himself to office—after all, Admirals had assigned pilots for a reason. At least I didn’t spill the damn coffee, he thought to himself, this time keeping his eyes on the traffic.
Everywhere he looked, the sky was filled with fast-moving aircars and transport shuttles, all of them miraculously avoiding each other. Business as usual in New Washington.
People happily milled about with whatever affairs they had. Day brought out the workforce and night brought out the parties. Underneath the scenic metropolitan culture there was a hint of underworld corruption. New Washington had secrets that Admiral Flynn only felt. There was an unspoken rule here; if it didn’t affect you directly, ignore it.
Since the Sonali war and subsequent formation of the Galactic Council, he had become skilled at ignoring mundane problems of the people. It wasn’t apathy, just the knowledge of more complicated problems in the universe. He just didn’t have enough energy for everything.
Already late, he sipped coffee while maneuvering his luxury aircar through the congested traffic on the way to the base. The security officer opened the gate and waved him through. Flynn gave a friendly nod and sped through.
However, getting through the door of the officer’s complex was more difficult. Once the encoded door slid open, all personnel had to take the slow walk through weapons detection. He emptied his pocket and put the items on the small conveyor belt and stepped on the larger one enclosed in tempered glass. The system scanned him for guns, biological weapons, and anything that could be weaponized when combined with other elements. It also checked him for viruses that could become pandemic.
Ten minutes later he stepped out the other side, grabbed his items from the smaller conveyor belt, and rushed down the hall. The meeting he was scheduled to present was already underway. He muttered an awkward apology to all the pencil-pushers assembled at the table and began his breakdown of Armada expenses.
Flynn wondered why he was in such a hurry to get to work as he sat at his desk and pinched the bridge of his nose. No matter how much he tried to will the throbbing in his temples away, it remained a steady drumbeat.
Things were quiet for the Terran Union since the war ended. That meant he was buried under endless streams of inane documents. Armada ships needed upgrades. Edoris station needed serious maintenance. Blah, blah, blah—it was like running a daycare full of ungrateful kids.
They came at him from all sides with demands and most of them were unrealistic at best. Two or three were downright absurd. One idiot requested designer toiletries for enlisted women. Disgusted, he set the tablet down and buried his face in both palms. He had just finished justifying every little expense the Terran Armada dished out. Most had no idea that behind the politics and tactical moves, government boiled down to one thing: numbers.
The throbbing was relentless. When the slipstream came to life with a demanding pitch, he cringed before looking up. His moment of rest was over. He sighed and glanced at the slipstream monitor. The word urgent was attached to the identification tag, with Captain Montgomery following.
Exasperated but not surprised, Flynn hit the accept button. If Jeryl called, it was most certainly urgent. That man was a magnet for crises. Luckily, he was good at working through them.
Too bad those talents weren’t put to better use. His tendency to act impulsively was tempered by the gifted knack to bullshit his way through almost anything. In Flynn’s opinion, Jeryl Montgomery’s talents would be put to better use somewhere else. As far as the Admiral was concerned, Jeryl was wasting his time on border patrols and pointless expeditions. A man like Jeryl was meant for something greater than commanding a spaceship.
“What is it, Jeryl?” Flynn let the frustration come through. Of course it wasn’t all about Jeryl, but he was sure to make the headache worse.
“Bad time, Admiral?” Jeryl had a cocky half-smile that said he knew the answer.
“Of course it is. I could use a break from the paperwork, though. What’s up?”
“We just tugged in a woman and baby from a shuttle with Udenar hot on its tail. She’s got quite a story.”
“Udenar?” Flynn interrupted.
“Yep. She claims she’s from Galea, and the Udenar have seized control of the entire planet. She and her baby barely made it out of there in a beat up shuttle.”
“Well, that sounds like bullshit,” Flynn picked up the tablet and began tapping the screen. “Galea’s well inside Human Confederation boundaries. The Udenar are piss-poor pirates.”
“I would think the same, but you didn’t see the mess of Udenar ships after this poor woman. She’s scared to death.”
The look on his face said he was serious. It wasn’t bullshit. Leave it to Jeryl Montgomery to find himself in a situation that could lead to war. Flynn knew the man didn’t go out looking for it, but somehow it always happened. Once Jeryl set his mind to something, he was like a juggernaut that steamrolled everything in its path.
He clenched his jaw and took in a deep breath, “Okay, you fought off the Udenar and rescued the woman in Terran Union space. That is well within your purview. You are not to investigate this woman’s claims, or approach the border for any reason. Is that clear, Captain?”
Jeryl’s eyes flashed briefly with anger, “Yes, sir,” he said too politely.
“Be as mad as you want, Jeryl. You know this is a matter for the Human Confederation. We don’t have a bead on the new Chancellor yet. He may react badly to an Armada ship blatantly crossing the border. Let us contact him first.”
Chancellor Cassius Ojun was still an enigma. He seemed the perfect politician. He catered to the blue collar majority while satisfying the corporate class. There was something there that didn’t add up with his rise to power. Flynn couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but something was off.
Jeryl rolled his eyes and snorted in frustration, “Those Udenar will notice their missing fighters. What then?”
“If they cross the border again, you have authority to engage. Until then, sit tight.”
Flynn knew that would be a hard order for Jeryl to follow. He was a man of action. Anything less drove him crazy. The angry furrow had already begun to form between his eyebrows.
“Yes, sir,” Jeryl replied in a low voice.
“Tell me more about this woman.”
The change of subject worked to distract the captain. His face brightened as he spoke, “I don’t know much yet. The woman was starving and half-crazed with fear. She passed out as soon as she got a little food down. According to her, the Udenar conquered the entire planet nearly overnight and turned the natives into slaves. The coup was too swift for anyone to call for help. They’re keeping the appearances up, though. Apparently they have Galea’s governor reassuring the Human Confederation government that everything’s fine.”
“Conquer the small planets first, building up to the more influential ones. It’s risky, but I get it. Going from small-time pirates to planet stealers, I don’t get.”
“We only have a piece of the story. There’s got to be more to it.” Jeryl had the glimmer of an idea in his eyes but didn’t elaborate. Flynn didn’t ask. He knew his friend would talk when the idea wholly formed.
“Undoubtedly.”
The Udenar were a small race from the far edge of the Outer Colonies. Their position was prime for trade with the Human Confederation, Sonali Combine, and Tyreesian Collective. Instead, they chose to close themselves off and attack trade routes whenever they saw an opening.
They smuggled and raided whatever they needed, but not enough to catch the eye of the Galactic Council. Otherwise they were secretive but not a threat—until now.
Flynn couldn’t help but wonder how long they had been amassing the weaponry and manpower for such a feat. A small farming planet like Galea could not be their end game. If it was, there had to be a higher purpose. Maybe he gave them too much credit.
“Keep me informed?”
“Of course.”
Flynn powered down the slipstream with a worried frown. His gut told him the situation would escalate rapidly and Jeryl would be caught in another fight before Flynn could find the answers he needed. Unfortunately, there were channels to go through. He wasted no time putting in his request to speak to Chancellor Ojun. With any luck, the Chancellor’s assistant would contact him before the end of the day.
The headache had thankfully subsided when his tablet chirped two hours later. He picked it up and saw a message from the office of the Chancellor. They couldn’t be inconvenienced with a slipstream conference. Although the Schism ended long ago, relations between the Terran Union and Human Confederation were still strained. An Admiral didn’t rank high enough to get their attention.
Thank you for your concern. We have the situation well in hand, the message read.
Realizing he would get nowhere fast, he put in his request to speak personally to the President of the Terran Union. That would take some time, but he wouldn’t be stonewalled. The most he could do was wait and hope Jeryl kept himself out of trouble. Flynn smiled. That would not happen. He would actually wait to see what kind of trouble Jeryl got into.
It was the end of the day, but Flynn still had his ignored documents to comb through. He reached into the bottom desk drawer and pulled out a half-empty bottle of vintage bourbon. He poured a good four fingers into his old coffee cup and took a healthy gulp as he looked out the window of his office.
A new Chancellor on the Human Confederation, the Tyreesian keeping to themselves, and the Udenar making a power play. And on the middle of it, Captain Jeryl Montgomery. These are interesting times, the Admiral thought, and then allowed himself a smile.
Jeryl always knew how to keep things interesting.
Jeryl
Jeryl couldn’t fall asleep.
Even though his eyelids seemed as heavy as lead, sleep didn’t come easy. He simply couldn’t stop thinking about the Udenar, Galea, and Lydia and her son. He knew something was off the moment he saw the Udenar raiders pursuing Lydia’s shuttle, and that feeling was spreading in his mind like cancer, leaving a foul stench in its wake.
A situation like this shouldn’t be that hard to figure out, but three days had passed after Jeryl’s meeting with the Admiral...and still there was no progress. Knowing Flynn, Jeryl knew that there was only one reason for the radio silence—someone was stalling. Whether that was the result of a Terran Union or Human Confederation policy, Jeryl wasn’t sure; all he knew was that whatever was happening in Galea mattered.
“Jeryl?” Ashley whispered, turning on the bed and throwing one arm over his naked chest.
“I’m here,” he replied softly, his open eyes never leaving the ceiling.
“Can’t sleep?”
“Not really.” He ran one hand through her hair, his fingertips brushing against her naked shoulders. Looking at her, he felt the urge to pull her against his body and try his best to forget all about Galea and the Udenar.
But he couldn’t. Dozens of questions kept floating inside his head, demanding all of his attention. Sighing, Jeryl sat up on the bed and swung his legs out of it. Just like always, being captain of The Seeker was taking precedence over his role as a husband.
“There’s something I must do,” he told Ashley, his voice just a gentle whisper, but she had already turned her back to him. He couldn’t tell if she was asleep or just pretending, but he figured that knowing the answer to that question wouldn’t really help.
He made a mental note to carve some alone time for him and Ashley—God knew they needed that—and then started putting his uniform on. By the time he was ready, he no longer felt tired. It was almost as if there was something magical about his uniform. Whenever he had it on, he felt as if he could go on forever.
Crossing the room as silently as he could, Jeryl stopped before he opened the door and looked back over his shoulder, his gaze settling on Ashley’s shape. He stood there in complete silence for a few seconds, just taking in the way the shadows draped over her half-naked body, her silky hair covering his now empty pillow. Almost tempted to go back to bed and join her, he sucked in a deep breath and opened the door.
A few minutes later and he was walking down The Seeker’s maze of corridors, making his way toward the medbay. He had read all the briefings and reports, but he still hadn’t talked with Lydia one on one—something he wanted to do as soon as possible. Sure, it was late and she was probably asleep, but Jeryl didn’t feel bad about waking her up. Her health had been improving by leaps and bounds ever since Mahesh started taking care of her.
“Sir?” A young nurse raised her gaze as Jeryl entered the medbay, surprised to see the Captain waltzing inside there.
“I need to talk to Lydia,” he said, making sure to keep his voice down. Even though he wanted to wake up Lydia, he didn’t want to scare the poor woman—God knew she had gone through a lot.
“She’s actually awake,” the nurse replied, and then started getting up, putting her tablet down on the desk in front of her.
“No need,” Jeryl said with a wave. “I know where she is.” With that, he marched down the main room and went straight to the bed right at the end. As there were no cribs aboard The Seeker, the medical staff had pushed another bed against Lydia’s so that she could sleep while keeping her son close.
Lydia was sitting on her own bed, an old book propped up on her lap. Her hair was tied in a bun, and she actually looked her age. It was amazing what three days of rest could do to a person. Despite still being thinner than she should, she had started to regain some of her natural beauty, the lines in her face much smoother than when Jeryl had first seen her.
“Captain?” Lydia asked, putting the book down.
“Just call me Jeryl.” Grabbing a chair from the corner, he set it close to the bed and sat down by Lydia’s side. “Can’t sleep?”
“Not really.” She smiled gently, tucking a stray lock of hair over her ear. “To be honest, I feel like I’ve spent these past three days asleep. I just can’t do it anymore. You?”
“I don’t sleep much these days,” Jeryl replied, and then glanced at the cover of Lydia’s book. “Walden? That’s an old one.”
“One of the nurses let me have it. I actually read it when I was younger...and I always liked books. Much better than a screen. Besides,” she added, patting the book with her delicate fingers, “I’ve always loved this one.”
“Nature, right?”
“Nature, yes,” she laughed softly. “I’ve always loved the outdoors. That’s why I moved to Galea, actually.”
“You’re not from there?”
“No. I was born in Centralia. But it just wasn’t for me, you know? I wasn’t made for the city and, besides, I didn’t want him to grow up there.” She glanced at James, who slept peacefully under a tiny blanket, and then turned her gaze back to Jeryl.
“I heard it could be a hard place.”
“For those with no money, sure. Not that I had any money on Galea—farming is a thankless job, after all—but at least we weren’t living in a city. And Galea is a nice place. Or, well…it used to be.”
“Right,” Jeryl nodded. “The Udenar.”
“Yes,” Lydia nodded back, her tone a sad one. “On any given night, you could look up and see thousands and thousands of stars up in the sky. You can’t do that in Centralia, you know? Even if you’re not in a city, most places are covered with smog. Galea’s like that now.”
“That’s a shame. Galea sounds like a beautiful place.”
“You’d like it. Well, you would have liked it. Now that the Udenar brought all that machinery...the planet’s unrecognizable.”
“You told Ashley, the officer you ta
lked to before, that the Udenar had set up some kind of mining operation, right?” Jeryl asked, leaning toward Lydia, eager to take in all of her words.
“Yes,” she nodded again, “They’re mining. What exactly they’re mining, I have no idea. But I guess there’s something of interest to them there—they started drilling just a few days after setting up shop. Confiscated all our farming bots and had us rewire them to help in the mining, and almost everyone down there has been put to work.”
“Doing what?”
“Whatever they need us to. Being their servants, operating their machines, or serving as practice for their aim.” As she said that, Jeryl could almost swear the lines in her face were starting to deepen once more, a shadow of worry and sadness taking over her eyes. “They’re ruthless. I don’t even think they want to stay in Galea—they just want to mine whatever it is they’re mining, and then I figure they’ll leave.”
“You also said they’ve kept the government in place.”
“The government?” Lydia almost laughed at Jeryl’s words, but then she settled on a disturbed smile. “If you want to call it that. It’s basically just a small-time governor and a few assistants to run the whole planet. All I know is that the Udenar keep him at hand so that whenever the higher-ups on the Confederation call, he’s there to assure them everything’s fine. Not that they’d care anyway.”
“Not a fan of the Confederation, huh?”
“Not really. Mostly, they’re just a bunch of self-serving hypocrites. I actually like the new Chancellor, Ojun, as he seems to care for the little guy...but I doubt that a single man will be able to do any good. Too many interests at play.”
Leaning back on his seat, Jeryl sighed. He knew the Confederation wasn’t exactly what you could call a successful government, but sometimes he couldn’t help but be surprised by how bad things were there. Although a reunification between the Union and the Confederation was unlikely—not to say impossible—that was something Jeryl wouldn’t mind seeing before he checked out for good.
