by Trevor Wyatt
Mary didn’t bother to hide her enthusiasm. “Goddamn craziest, dumbest idea I’ve heard in a while.”
Jeryl grinned and ordered Ferriero to do it. Just as he was shifting The Seeker to the right so they could use all of their left side guns, Jeryl heard Ashley through the comm.
“Jeryl?”
“Status?” He asked quickly.
“We got it.”
Jeryl turned to Daniel and his team. “Wait till she has the system under control. Then jack in and get those damn transports moving, and make sure you get as much on each transport as you can safely get.” He turned to Mary. “Tell them to get their asses back up here, then tell weapons to get ready to glass that rock.”
“Aye, aye, Captain.”
He thought back to that Dalai Lama quote again.
I guess I’ll just have to find a way to get peace for everyone later.
Jeryl
Two hundred thousand.
This was the number of civilians the rebels managed to pack up inside the transporters. It was a good number too, since it accounted for almost all of Galea’s population. It was also an advantage that Galea was a small farming colony, or else Jeryl would have never managed to pull it off.
“Give me some good news, Mary!” Jeryl shouted over the loud chatter, and Mary looked over her shoulder at him. She was sweating, trying to keep up with the barrage of information she was receiving, and her hair was plastered to her forehead. Still, the expression on her face told Jeryl that she did have some good news to give him.
“All transport shuttles have confirmed take-off!” Mary said, looking back at her screens.
“Yup, they’re en route to destination,” one of the techs manning the centralized AI system confirmed, still furiously typing on his holographic keyboard. “The Udenar have tried to remotely deny us access to the system, but we’re in luck—these assholes can’t code for shit! Sorry for the language, sir.”
“Screw being polite,” Jeryl said, allowing himself a smile. “This is about saving lives—and winning.”
“Aye, sir!”
“How much ‘til the shuttles hit orbit?”
“Two minutes, sir!” one of the Ensigns bellowed as the CNC rocked, another laser beam making its way past The Seeker’s weakened shields and hitting it in the hull.
I hope these two minutes go by fast, or else we’re fucked, Jeryl thought as he looked at the holographic projection of the battle.
The Hunters were flying around The Seeker like angry wasps, trying to protect it from the brunt of the Udenar assault, but Jeryl knew that they wouldn’t be able to keep that up for too long. The other Udenar fleets had already noticed they had fallen for a ruse, and they were already en route to join the fleet attacking The Seeker.
Once that happened, they wouldn’t even be able to escape. There was only one way for them to survive—and that was to glass the entire colony and pray to God that would be enough to make the Udenar scatter.
After all, with Galea destroyed, Jeryl doubted their Tyreesian overlords would still keep them on the payroll for services rendered—Tyreesians weren’t that forgiving. Sure, they could still use the Udenar after this, but Jeryl had no doubt in his mind that every single Udenar involved in a Galea fiasco would pay a hefty price for the failure.
“Shuttles have left the atmosphere, sir!” Ferriero announced. His voice was clipped, and despite doing a stellar job at replacing Docherty, Jeryl could tell the man was sweating bullets. His auxiliary nav officer, MJ, has just returned to her workstation from stabilizing The Seeker’s shields in Engineering.
“What about Commander Gavin’s shuttle?”
“Twenty seconds ‘til she’s out of range—then we’ll be able to strike without concern for the shuttle,” MJ offered, and Jeryl sat back down in his chair, mentally counting down the seconds.
He glanced at the battle’s holographic projection and gritted his teeth—it was chaos out there, shots being fired at The Seeker from every single direction while the Hunters tried to keep a tidal wave of raiders at bay.
Twenty-seconds almost seemed like twenty centuries.
“Commander Gavin has left the atmosphere,” Ferriero shouted, then continued so loud Jeryl was surprised he didn’t ruin his throat. “WE’RE FREE TO ENGAGE!”
“Then fire away,” Jeryl said coldly, gripping the armrests on his chair so tightly he could almost hear the metal bend under his fingers.
“Particle beams, fire!” Someone shouted, and it was almost as if time halted. Jeryl’s heart skipped a beat as the massive particle beams erupted from The Seeker’s particle cannons and made their way onto Galea’s surface. All the chatter inside the CNC died down as everyone turned their attention to the viewscreen. They watched as massive explosions ravaged the entire colony, like blisters taking over a dying man’s body.
“Torpedoes,” Jeryl cut through the silence, and his officers got to work, redirecting all their artillery from the Udenar fleet to Galea’s surface. The Udenar kept firing away, taking advantage as The Seeker focused on glassing the small colony.
“Activate the secondary probes!” Jeryl ordered, and then he simply prayed for the best.
Even though he knew the Udenar would probably scatter after Galea’s destruction, he had something else in store: he had another set of probes hidden away around the orbit, and they’d only be active when they were done with the planet. The probes will send a signal, passing as Armada battleships, and hopefully they’d scare the Udenar enough to allow The Seeker to jump into safety.
Jeryl wasn’t sure if the Udenar would fall for it again, but that was his last ace in the hole.
If the Udenar kept on firing, The Seeker was done.
For five long seconds that almost seemed to stretch into eternity, no one spoke. They just watched as the Udenar unleashed hell against The Seeker’s outer fuselage. Everyone held onto their workstations so hard that Jeryl almost expected someone to eventually rip one of the things out of the damn wall.
Then, the Udenar just stopped.
As fast as they had started their attack, they broke formation and scattered in different directions, like flies being swatted away from a carcass.
“We’re getting FTL signatures from their ships,” Ferriero said, the excitement in his voice palpable. He’d live to fight another day, and he couldn’t be more excited about it. “They’re going to jump! They’re going to leave!”
As he said it, the whole CNC erupted in cheer—officers stood up from their workstations and shouted as they and started clapping each other on their backs.
In any other situation, Jeryl would have ordered them to sit down and do their damn job. But in that moment, he saw himself standing as well and clapping Ferriero on the back.
“The Udenar are jumping!” Ferriero told him, his eyes on his sensor’s screen. “They’ve given up!”
“Where’s the shuttle?” Jeryl asked, not even bothering to spend another thought on the Udenar. The bastards were leaving, Galea was glassed as Armada Intelligence demanded, and the civilians were safe.
They had won the day.
“The shuttle’s landing on the flight deck, sir!”
“Then you have the bridge, Ferriero. Treat my ship right, or I’ll have your head,” Jeryl said, clapping him on the back once more.
“Captain? Where are you going?”
Jeryl just grinned at his nav officer.
“I made a promise to my wife, and I intend to keep it.”
Cassius
“How’s my girl?” Cassius asked, returning his daughter’s smile. They slipstreamed each other as often as they could, which wasn’t really often enough.
“Good, daddy. I’m getting straight As and we’re in the derby championship,” Sienna beamed.
“And Peyton?”
“She’s...fine,” Sienna said as she looked down.
“What is it?” Cassius knew she didn’t want to get her sister into trouble, so he pushed. “Talk to me, Sien.”
�
�She’s hanging around a wild crowd, dad. She never does her work, talks back, and gets into fights all the time.” Tears formed in her big brown eyes but refused to fall.
That would explain why she was never around to talk to him. Cassius hoped she would turn out better. He knew there would be some problems with both of them, but it was like they have become two extremes on opposite ends.
Sienna was so afraid of losing those she cared about and she did all she could to please everyone. Cassius’ adopted daughter, Peyton, decided she didn’t give a shit because everybody she cared about died at some point. At the rate she was going, she was doing her damned best to make sure she went before anyone else.
Cassius knew shipping them off to boarding school didn’t help her abandonment issues, but he had no choice. It was the best school in the Human Confederation, and security was airtight. Most diplomats sent their children there. He knew right when he was still Tribune that staying with him was not a safe option.
He prayed they never found out how he became Chancellor.
“Is she on drugs?” He was aware of a problem with the older kids and their homemade remedies for a quick buzz. Oh, god, don’t let her be on drugs already.
“I don’t think so, but I’m not sure.”
“Thanks for telling me, sweetie. Be good.”
“You too, dad. Love you.”
“Love you, kiddo,” Cassius said then powered down the slipstream.
Of course, he had already received progress reports on both girls. The only reason Peyton hadn’t been kicked out was because she was the Chancellor’s daughter. He just wanted to see if Sienna would tell him the truth. The last five times they had spoken, she kept her mouth shut.
If he knew his daughter, she waited until she was sure she couldn’t handle it herself before speaking up. She had this need to be her sister’s protector. If Peyton didn’t come around, Sienna would be dragged under with her.
Now what to do about Peyton? She needed to be straightened out, but how did he accomplish that from halfway across the system? He thought about putting her in a reform school, but didn’t want to traumatize her by separating her and Sienna.
Tapping his fingers on the desk, he came up with the solution. He hit the comm button.
“Donovan, set up a personal bodyguard for each of my daughters,” he ordered. “Cite the Udenar trouble as the reason.”
“Yes, sir,” Donovan, the chief of security, answered.
He had avoided that action until now, preferring for them to have a normal life as much as possible. Peyton was going to be pissed, but if it would keep her out of trouble, then he would do what he had to.
Sienna would take it in stride. Her biggest problem would be the distraction. She hated to be distracted when she was trying to do her schoolwork.
But he couldn’t worry about that now. It was enough to know that they were as safe as he could make them.
Cassius picked up his tablet and swiped through the geology reports he ordered. His geology teams were efficient, and they understood the need for secrecy, even if they didn’t know why.
The separate compounds that made up the Bachnian crystals were readily available on almost every planet in the Human Confederation. The problem was the way they combined through generations of incubation. So far, no one could replicate the process. They had just begun testing, so he had every confidence they would find a way soon.
Either way, tiny crystals had been found just beneath the topsoil on three planets in the Confederation space. Galea could have been “mysteriously” destroyed—Cassius knew exactly who was behind it—but that wouldn’t stop him.
He composed a blanket message to the geology teams on each planet.
Begin mining operations. Quietly.
The planets were on the other side of his territory, and he hoped to keep the Tyreesians from finding out about it. He had to act quickly, before the bastards sniffed them out.
The crystals were good for many things. They amplified and extended most power sources. That was valuable enough, but only one thing was worth taking over an entire planet.
A teleporter.
He regretted Galea’s loss, but Cassius has turned into the kind of man who doesn’t cry over spilt milk. All he could do was cut his losses and move on.
Within hours, an encrypted message came through his tablet.
Scans have detected a large reserve of the crystal. Harvesting will be complete within twenty-four hours.
Cassius smiled and poured himself a celebratory glass of whiskey. Though the Terran Union meddled beyond repair, he was sure to beat them in the production of a teleporter. He just had to figure out how to beat back the Tyreesians without attracting attention from the other planets.
Cassius had planned to use Lydia and her baby as poster fodder to rally the people against the Udenar. Since Crimson was destroyed before the shuttle could launch, she was still in the custody of the Terran Union. He’d get her later, but for now a press conference where he’d give a heartfelt speech about the tragic loss of the fleet would have to suffice. It’d serve to anger the people enough to be willing to fight against the Udenar and the Tyreesians if that time came. For now, though, he kept the Tyreesian connection under wraps.
He wanted his people pissed, not terrified.
“Admiral Hennesy, please report to my office,” he said into the comm.
“Right away, sir.”
Cassius poured two glasses of whiskey and waited.
The door slid open. Hennesy hesitated when he saw the whiskey sitting on the desk in front of his chair. He knew Cassius was about to ask him to do something else he wouldn’t like. He sat down and just looked from the glass to Cassius.
“Admiral. I need you to send our full forces to engage the Udenar,” he said. “Only leave a bare minimum for defense.”
“What if that’s what they're waiting for?” Hennesy grimaced and picked up his drink. After Galea’s destruction, the Udenar were probably on high alert, so the Admiral had a point on that. Still, this wasn’t the time to play safe—the Tyreesians had the Udenar scanning entire sectors, and there was no way Cassius would allow the bastards to take over another planet with Bachnian crystals.
“It’s not. Trust me.” Cassius picked up his own glass and downed it. “Engage them with all you’ve got, but the main objective does not leave this room.”
Hennesy sat forward, whiskey forgotten in his hand.
“The objective is to keep them away from these sectors,” Cassius brought the star map up on his tablet, highlighting the three most promising planets.
Hennesy took the tablet and studied it with confusion, “Why?”
“That is need to know, Admiral. Just keep them away from those planets. And be on the lookout for Tyreesian technology.”
Understanding spread over the Admiral’s face. “FTL mines. That’s why you ordered the FTLs shut down.”
“Yes. Not that it did any fucking good,” he muttered. Either way, the fleet had been doomed. The teleporter production would put the Human Confederation ahead of the game. Hopefully it would make up for the wasted lives in the long run.
“Do I share this with the Captains?”
“Tell them you suspect the Udenar either bought or stole the technology. Nothing more.”
“Yes, sir,” Hennesy finally gulped down his whiskey and set the glass on the desk, “Thank you for the drink.”
He stood with a scowl. He didn’t like being in the dark when it came to the fleet’s orders, especially after being forced to shut down the FTLs. Cassius understood, which was why he divulged the Tyreesian connection. That bit of information ensured the Admiral’s loyalty.
Cassius allowed himself a smirk as Hennesy walked out. They both knew he was a scheming asshole. Hennesy understood that he was offering up the entire fleet as bait for a cause he knew nothing about.
He would have to either be promoted or eliminated. Either way, Cassius didn’t care—he was walking down a very specific road,
and he would do anything to ensure he’d get to his destination.
“Anything and everything…” he muttered, pouring himself another whiskey. “Every fucking thing.”
Jeryl
“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”
“It has,” Jeryl replied, one hand on the balcony railing, the other holding a glass half-filled with some vintage red from New Sydney. From one of the suites on the top floor, they could see how New Sydney’s capital stretched for what seemed like forever, a never ending tapestry of high-rise condos sprinkled with casinos here and there.
Jeryl had acted on impulse when he made the reservation at The Oath—on one of the most expensive suites, especially—but he didn’t mind it. After everything that had happened in Galea and everything else before that, they needed to getaway. And what better place than The Oath, the place where they slept together for the first time?
Back then, they never though that a one-night thing would turn into marriage. But that’s how things go, more often than not—you get caught up in the tide, and next thing you know you’re surfing a wave for the rest of your life.
“Here.” Grabbing the bottle, Jeryl poured some red into Ashley’s glass. Then, turning his back to the New Sydney skyline, he laid down on the outdoor sofas. He couldn’t even remember the last time they had taken a vacation and, damn, it felt good.
In fact, he could get used to it. He could already imagine himself strolling inside Flynn’s office and quitting on the spot. Oh, it’d be priceless to see the Admiral’s face; maybe Jeryl could tell him that he had found a new calling in life: farming.
Yeah, that would go well, Jeryl thought, almost snorting. Then, he looked at Ashley; she was laying down on the couch right next to him, and she was sipping her wine while looking out into the horizon. Forget about Flynn, Jeryl mused. What would Ash think of that? Would she leave the Armada behind and start anew?
Smiling, Jeryl just pushed all these thoughts into a dark corner of his mind. What did that matter? Jeryl wasn’t about to leave The Seeker, and he doubted that Ashley wanted it. After devoting their entire lives to the Armada, how would they walk away from it all? Whether they liked it or not, they were born for it. And, hell, they were the best around. They had ended a five-year war, fought to make the Council a reality, and after all that, even figured out a way to save an entire planet’s population while keeping Armada Intelligence happy.
