Last of The Nighthawks_A Military Space Opera Adventure
Page 16
They crept past a bay window with a breathtaking view of the Inginus locked in combat with the Geralos ships. Cilas spared a glance back to see how Ina was doing, and in her eyes he saw longing and hope. Helga nudged past him, ignoring the window, then got to the door and posted up.
He saw her lean over and place her ear against it, then close her eyes to see what she could hear. Cilas stepped up to the other side and listened for himself, but he could hear nothing except the humming sounds of an oxygen generator.
When they opened the door, they expected a fight, but all they found was a ladderwell leading down. Cilas motioned them away from it, sealing it anew. He then took them back to the second door and knelt behind a bunk. “There’s a ladder leading down,” he said, looking at Ina. “Is this the topmost deck?”
“Yes, the bridge is actually two decks down,” Ina said. “The next deck is where they briefed me about fixing the porthole. It is the main deck for them, and it will be covered with armed men.”
Cilas looked at Helga. “The bridge is on the bottom floor? That’s mighty odd,” he said. “We have sleep quarters up here, and the next one is the main deck. Probably where the galley, chow hall, and entertainment is housed. Below that is, what? Control room, bridge, and captain’s quarters? Whose ship is this? The layout baffles my understanding.”
Helga shrugged, and Ina’s face was blank; it was hard to read what was going through her mind. Cilas tried to imagine himself in her shoes, using the days on Dyn as a comparison for how she felt.
When those Louines had come in, he didn’t question their motives. They weren’t Geralos and that was good enough for him. Here they were, Alliance, and Helga would have told her the quick version of their story. Would she trust them to be who they claimed to be, and did she think that they could pull it off?
Any hesitation would get him and Helga killed, or worse; she could turn on them and lead them to her captors. These things happened, and he couldn’t read her mind to know if she was an enemy playing possum. “Ina,” he said. “What can we expect, now that we’ve killed the reinforcements?”
“They all have vitality Nanos that report their location and health back to the central CPU. The captain knows they’re dead, and is wondering if it is me, since I am the only one registering alive in the two parties that he’s sent up here. To be honest, Lieutenant Cilas, I am not understanding why they haven’t killed me by now.”
“You say they have it inside your body. Some sort of chip to kill you when they want. Is there a way to cut it out?” Helga said, and to Cilas’s surprise Ina nodded her head.
“It would need to be fast, or they’ll know what you’re doing,” she said. “It’s below the skin where they place our tattoos. They told us that removing it would kill us instantly. But I’ve seen someone do it, I can show you how. It is painful, but what is pain? I can—”
“I’ll leave you two to it,” Cilas said. “I’m going to secure that ladder. When you have it out, Ate, I’ll be below deck waiting.”
He got up from the floor, walked back to the door, and placed his ear against it to listen again. After a minute, he eased it open, stepped through, and closed it behind him. The ladder led down into darkness, and he descended it slowly, keeping the pistol high and ready.
There was a door at the base, but no pressure lock like the ones before. He listened for a few minutes, then pulled down the handle, easing it open to take a peek inside. His heart stopped cold as someone walked by, barely missing the fact that the door had opened.
It was a big muscular spacer who reminded him of Cage Hem, but the man was so intent on his destination that he didn’t turn around. Cilas watched him for a second, then looked the other way. There was another armed man—not quite as big—walking in the opposite direction.
One of these men was bound to turn around, so Cilas slipped in quickly and stalked after Cage’s twin. On quiet soles, he catwalked behind the man. When they walked past a cracked door, Cilas stopped and slipped inside. If luck was with him when he descended the ladder, he had exhausted it in the passageway.
This new compartment was the galley, and it was filled with pirates who regarded him curiously. The first man who saw him swung a knife towards his abdomen, but Cilas was ready, and spun into his attacker to avoid the knife. When he was belly to belly with the man, he trapped his knife hand with his arm.
Using his free hand—which held his pistol—Cilas reached over the man’s shoulder and shot another in the face. He finished breaking the arm that he had trapped, which caused the man to drop the knife. When he started screaming, Cilas dropped to a knee, using his body as a shield.
Two more shots from this position put another pair of pirates down, but not before several of their own shots hit Cilas’s human shield in the back. He dove out from the dead man’s body and landed on his side, squeezing off two more rounds to kill a fourth man.
Shots from behind him brought him around, but he saw that it was Helga, walking in like the angel of death. He didn’t know how she’d manage to get past the men in the passageway, but she was there—and there was no alarm—so he didn’t bother to worry about it.
“Where’s Reysor?” he said.
“Here,” she replied, and held up a bloody patch of flesh. “That’s Ina as they see her, but ours is on the ladder. We need to move,” she said, flashing a cruel grin, and for the first time since they had boarded the ship, Cilas felt confident that they would make it.
“That’s my line,” he said, then followed her out, where Ina was waiting in the passageway. Cilas froze when he saw her and lifted the pistol. She was armed with a handgun, and he didn’t know what to think. “Ina?” he said.
“What? I’m helping out, or am I to be your slave now?” she said. It was a different attitude than the mouse she had been earlier, and he saw that she had a makeshift bandage wrapped around her neck.
“Okay,” he said slowly and lifted up a hand. “Just remember that these weapons have—”
“Kinetic rounds, I got it,” she said. She lifted up the pistol, ejected the clip, dropped while spinning, catching the clip, and slamming it back inside. “I’ve been through basics, Lieutenant. I am trained. Aqnaqak, remember? We’ve been through a battle or two.”
Cilas laughed. It was the biggest understatement. The Aqnaqak was the deadliest battleship in the entire Alliance fleet. Even their bridge crew would be dangerous, and Ina’s stunt reminded him of this.
“Go easy, Ensign Reysor, I remember who you are,” he said. “Still, this is highly unconventional. It goes against everything I know about infiltration. You and Ate take that side, and I will continue in this direction. Clear the floor, kill every last one of them. I don’t want phantoms creeping when this ship is ours.”
“Aye aye, sir,” Ina said, giving him an Alliance salute.
“Let’s go, Reysor,” Helga said, and Cilas watched the two women disappear through the door. He reminded himself that Helga was a professional, and that she wouldn’t have armed their captive without confirming that she could be trusted.
“I don’t like this,” he whispered to himself, but he put the thought far from his mind. He then lifted the pistol, stepped over Cage’s twin, and made his way down the passageway.
20
Retzo Sho sat back in his large, soft leather chair and sighed. It had been four long hours of focused study on the past mission details of the Nighthawks. Many hands had been involved in the planning of their missions, and it was the same people involved every time. This made it difficult to pinpoint a single change that had led to them being on the mission to Dyn.
Due to this he took all of their names down and asked the reporter, Cyulan Ore, to provide him with their details. The young woman did as she was asked and dug up everything about them. Nothing was spared due to his level of access as the captain.
Cyulan’s notes showed him everything, from their daily routines, to job history, and the projects they were involved in. He could even see who their signif
icant others were, since the ship’s computer kept track of such things.
Retzo used all of this to look for any changes that happened prior to the mission where Kyden Ahmad was killed. Nothing stuck out, even after hours of studying the lives of all of his officers. He had become somewhat obsessed, drawing out a matrix on his special interface. Now he leaned forward and touched an icon to expand a hologram in the center of the compartment.
The captain stood up, stretched his legs, and then studied the diagram intensely, trying to see if he’d missed anything. Three council members had received the mission details, then sent them to the Alliance to see who would execute the job. On both of the missions in question, his own Rendron had volunteered for the assignment. Retzo crossed out the council members as potential suspects.
This left him with his Adan Viles, but there was nothing out of place to make him a suspect. Outside of being slow on informing him about the state of his Nighthawks, the man led a stellar career and conducted himself as an officer should.
Retzo walked over to the cabinet and poured himself a drink. So much time had been spent on looking into these people, he wondered if he was wasting his time. No, never that, he thought. I started this search for a reason. I need an answer in order for this to mean something.
He lifted the glass to his lips and held it there, then grimaced when the hot liquor touched his throat. It was a harsh drink, hard to get accustomed to, and Retzo wasn’t much of a drinker outside of times like this.
“A long line of kill missions, carried out without incident. The last target was a captain: General Uhr Raja of the Geralos ship, Kha-jurn. Infiltration and execution, all successful missions. Operators were Cilas Mec, Cage Hem, Lamia Brafa, Casein Varnes, Horne Wyatt, Adan Cruser, and Kyden Ahmad.”
As he said their names, he tried to remember each of their faces, what sort of crewmen they were, and how he remembered them from the past. His comms chirped, but he hesitated to answer it, not wanting to break the thought process out of fear that it would be lost. It had taken him hours to reach this point, where he had narrowed it back down to Adan Viles.
“I’m chasing my tail,” he said with disgust, and touched his wrist to answer.
It was his communications officer, Genevieve Aria, and he couldn’t miss the excitement in her voice, “Sorry for the disturbance, but am I speaking with Captain Sho?” she said.
“This is Sho, Miss Aria, what’s the situation?” Retzo said. He expected bad news and had prepared himself to receive it, but even now he tensed as he waited for her answer.
He knew her well enough to recognize her tone, and that was how he knew that something was wrong. If the Nighthawks were finished, there was no reason to rebuild. Not without Cruz by his side, and with a potential spy in the ranks.
Even if he was wrong about Adan or whomever ordered the last two missions, he didn’t have another Cilas Mec to start a brand new team.
“Sorry to disturb you, Captain, but you have a call from Commander Jit Nam, of the Soulspur.”
“Patch him through,” Retzo said, ready for the horror. He placed the glass down on the table.
“Captain,” came a gravelly voice on the other end of the line.
Retzo touched his earpiece so that he could use his personal comms. “Jit, what’s going on?”
“Sir, we have a situation above Meluvia. Five, C-class Geralos warships have just come out of FTL. We were forced to retreat when they drained our shields, and reports are coming in that they’ve sent raiders to the surface. The Meluvian government has been alerted of the invasion, but they’ve just lost a destroyer and are in a critical state. I am requesting the help of our sister ship, the Inginus, but we may need the Rendron’s supreme firepower.”
Retzo froze where he stood. This made no sense. How could five Geralos warships of that size coordinate a strike without the Alliance spies being aware of it? This was the second major news that he hadn’t been given, and now he began to wonder if faulting Adan was premature.
“Hold tight, Jit, the Rendron is coming,” Retzo said. “The Inginus is not enough to drive them out of the system. I need to make some calls, and then I will make a decision. Hold together and stay clear, my friend. I will call you back to tell you how we plan to answer.”
“Thank you, Captain,” Jit said quickly, and he could hear the uncertainty in his voice. The man sounded concerned, which struck Retzo as odd. A warrior like Jit Nam was not one that was easily rattled. Whatever these Geralos ships were, they had made quite an impression on him. Not to mention they had secured the space to allow for raiders to be sent to the planet.
Retzo stormed out of the cabin and made his way to Communications. The walk wasn’t too long, but he purposefully avoided the bridge, walking quickly so that no one could stop him.
When he opened the door to the tiny compartment, the entire room froze and stared at him. Cyulan Ore looked up from her station, surprised, but when the shock wore off, she rose and shouted, “Captain on the deck!”
The six members of the communications team rose in unison, bowing and saluting their captain. It wasn’t often that they got to see Retzo Sho without the COMMO, Genevieve Aria in tow. Like most good captains, Retzo made routine visits to all the areas of his ship, but normally he would talk through Genevieve.
To see him come in to engage Cyulan Ore must have been both exhilarating and confusing to them. But Retzo didn’t notice—though most days he definitely would—he had questions that demanded answers, and his blind focus took him to Cyulan’s station.
“What is going on with our communications?” he said, ignoring the formalities. “We have a Geralos attack and one of our interceptors was forced into retreat. News like this should have come my way the moment our ship made contact. Do you know why this is happening?” he said, kneeling down next to her seat.
“I’m not sure, Captain,” she said so that only he could hear. “Does Lieutenant Aria know—”?
“Where is Adan Viles?” he said.
“I’m sorry, Captain, but I’ve been trying to locate the commander for thirty minutes now.”
“Why were you looking for him?”
“Lieutenant Aria asked me to inform him about our current situation, sir,” she said.
So, that means that Genevieve is clueless to Adan’s whereabouts. If she’s having Cyulan hail him, then she’s hardly in the know, he thought. “Where’s the Inginus?” he said softly, looking into her eyes. Retzo was a handsome man, and he was well aware of this. Between his looks and his rank, there weren’t many that could resist him.
He knew how Cyulan Ore would react with him so close to where she sat, and he intensified her discomfort when he looked into her eyes.
“They were sent to Louine space, Captain,” she said. “Ha-haven’t you been told?”
“No,” he said, laughing. “When were they sent there, Miss Ore?”
“Five days ago, sir, on Commander Viles’ order,” she said, her hand coming up to her mouth.
Retzo could see now that she understood why he was asking her these questions. He could read it in her eyes, and it made him happy that he didn’t have to spell it out. She would be his eyes and ears whenever he needed it now. This was the type of loyalty he was used to.
“They should have arrived by now, but we haven’t received a message confirming this,” she said, her voice trailing off as she sat up and stared at her screen.
There was some new commotion and Retzo looked over to find Genevieve Aria at the door. “Captain Sho,” she said. “I apologize for not being in place. Has Ensign Ore been able to answer your questions? I’ll be happy to brief you on anything.” Her voice wavered in a way that he hadn’t heard before, and Retzo realized that the woman was scared to death.
He stood up and gave Cyulan a wide-toothed grin. “Thank you, Ensign Ore, you’ve been a tremendous help,” he said. He walked out with Genevieve Aria, who fell in a few steps behind him. Retzo walked slowly this time so that she could keep up, but waited
until they were past the bridge before he chose to speak. “Did Viles leave with the Inginus?” he said without looking back at her.
“If he did, I haven’t heard about it,” she said, her voice so small that he could barely hear her.
When they got back to his cabin, Retzo turned and regarded his communication’s officer. “We’re being called in to war and I don’t have my CAG,” he said. “He didn’t tell me where he went, and you don’t seem to know where he is. So if he isn’t dead—which I pray he isn’t—we need to find out where he is. There has been a lot of things slipping through the cracks and I suspect that it isn’t accidental.
“As communications officer, I need you to find me an explanation, Genevieve. I need to know why the Soulspur was engaged by five destroyers, and why we didn’t hear about it until after they were ambushed. I would also like to know why the message from Lieutenant Mec was purposefully delayed for 89 hours. Oh, and one more thing –the whereabouts of Commander Adan Viles.”
“Immediately sir, I will get to the bottom of all of this,” she said. Her face reflected fear, which he really didn’t like. Reverence was okay, as well as respect or adoration, but fear was for the enemy, and he liked Genevieve Aria.
“At ease, Genevieve, you are not in trouble,” he said. “Just find me some answers, and prep the crew for a jump. If Viles is not on this ship I need to know immediately, since we have to scramble our fighters as soon as we come out of light speed.”
“What’s going on, Captain Sho?” she said, and he realized that he hadn’t given details.
“Our Meluvian allies are being invaded by the lizards, and the Soulspur is the only thing out there trying to fend them off. I need you to call the Central Alliance Cabinet and get me an immediate audience, and then I need you to find me Viles, wherever he has gone. Once that is done, call my comms so that we can discuss any further action. Do you have what you need?”