by Gun Brooke
“I have the conn, Commander,” she informed Leanne, who rose from the command chair.
The captain of the Gallant had sustained injuries to his legs and was being treated in sickbay. Jacelon didn’t expect him back on duty for forty-eight hours.
“On screen,” Rae commanded, and took a seat. The large view screen lit up, and Jacelon saw a small armada of Onotharian vessels approaching them from orbit. “Shields.”
“Shields at one hundred percent,” Owena said from behind her. She’d returned to the Gallant only a few hours ago and insisted on resuming her duties on the bridge.
“Good. Start a comm link.”
The ensign at operations punched in a command. “Channels are open, Admiral.”
“This is Admiral Jacelon of the Supreme Constellations. We do not wish to engage you in battle. Stand down and keep your current distance.”
The view screen flickered and a woman’s face appeared. Black hair twisted into a hard bun emphasized an austere face with dark, almost black eyes under thin, equally dark eyebrows. “I am Captain Oeseta M’Axos. You are in the Onotharian sector during an ongoing conflict. I ask you to leave immediately.”
“I beg to differ,” Jacelon said in a friendly tone. “This is Gantharian space, and the Supreme Constellations doesn’t acknowledge the Onotharians’ unlawful occupation of Gantharat. I don’t want to engage you in battle, Captain, but I will, if you don’t stand down.”
Annoyance and something resembling surprise flickered across the captain’s face. “You are trespassing and also engaged in an act of war against the Onotharian Empire by firing on our prison facilities—”
“Enough.” Jacelon rose slowly and stood behind the small railing between her and the pilots’ seats. “I have places to go, people to see, and I ask you again, for the last time, to stand down.” She had learned to work with her voice early in her career and knew that people found it intimidating.
“I think not.” If Oeseta M’Axos reacted the same way as most other people, she was obviously not about to show it. “You’re far from home, Admiral. You’ll regret the decision to go against the Onotharian sovereignty. M’Axos out.”
The view screen turned black before the long-range sensors changed the image to an exterior view of M’Axos’s ships.
“That went well,” Jacelon murmured. “Commander Grey, take out their weapons and propulsion system. Those ships look impressive from a distance, but unless my memory plays tricks on me, those are old birds. All the new, powerful vessels, with cloaking ability and so on, are at the SC border. They’ve left the old ones back here, thinking they wouldn’t need much defense on the home front.”
“Firing, Admiral.”
Blue-green streaks lit up the view screen, and they watched as parts of the ships were demolished, one after another.
“Incoming fire!”
Jacelon knew M’Axos was a capable opponent and was grateful that the Onotharian captain didn’t have access to a better-equipped, state-of-the-art vessel. The bridge shook, and Jacelon gripped the railing to remain on her feet. “Report!”
“Shields down to eighty-two percent, Admiral.” Owena rattled off the numbers. “Three casualties on deck three. No fatalities.”
“Good. D’Artansis, make sure we’re between Paladin’s fleet and the Onotharians.” The ships behind them were loaded to the top bulkheads with former prisoners, which meant they were vulnerable. One wrong hit and countless lives could be lost. That can’t happen. Not after we finally got them out.
“Yes, ma’am.” Leanne maneuvered the Gallant in an elegant dive, coming up with her side to the enemy, making sure they blocked their view.
“Eject distortion-buoys.” Jacelon watched the small lights of the markers that would confuse any space torpedoes or plasma-pulse beams from the Onotharians, at least for a while. “Now, fire again, Commander Grey. Target their life support. They’re close enough to Gantharat or, better yet, the deserted prisons, to save themselves.”
“I’m sending you the coordinates, Commander,” the young operations ensign said, sounding more assertive now.
“Firing all torpedoes. Direct hit. Seven ships without active life support. Two ships firing their plasma-pulse torpedoes.”
Jacelon raised her voice. “All hands, brace for impact.”
The Gallant bucked under their feet, and Jacelon felt her feet leave the floor when the inertial dampeners went offline. “Return fire! Status?” She pulled herself down to the railing and willed her body to stay upright.
“No casualties. Structural damage on deck four, the mess hall,” the ops ensign replied.
“Anything we need to worry about?”
“I’m closing off the area. No crew members are present.”
“Make sure. And get the inertial dampeners up and running.”
The ops ensign looked up. “Yes, ma’am.” Her fingers flew across the computer console. “Confirmed, Admiral. Engineering is working on the dampeners.”
“Commander Grey, any signs of more trouble from this group?”
“No, we seem to have created enough havoc with them, ma’am.”
“Excellent. No doubt, they’ve sent signals to what’s left of the Onotharian fleet, so we’d better get out of here. Jacelon to Paladin.”
“Paladin here. Nice work, Admiral.”
“Thank you, but we need to debark. Are your ships ready to launch?”
“Yes. The last transport shuttle has just come home. We now have 37,000 former prisoners onboard my freighters. They’re not very comfortable, but I understand it beats the hell out of where they came from.”
“Good job, Paladin. We’re about to pull out now. Are your other six vessels ready?” Jacelon listened for Paladin’s tone, knowing how hard this must be for her, no matter what they had gained.
“Yes, they are. We’re on track with the plans.”
“It will be a big loss for you.”
“It will be a tremendous triumph on the way to our ultimate victory,” Paladin replied matter-of-factly. “It’s a small price to pay.”
Jacelon thought of the man who was resting in her sickbay to regain his strength. Mikael O’Landha had refused to transfer off the Gallant and onto one of Paladin’s ships. He wanted to reunite with his daughter when he could face her standing on his own two feet. He was receiving nutrition and medical attention, mostly for the bedsores he’d contracted from sleeping on such a hard surface with an increasingly skinnier body, also for the other ailments that Doc had diagnosed earlier.
“Very well. I’ll give the order to go. May your Gods be with you, Paladin.”
“And with you. Paladin out.”
Jacelon heard the elevator door at the back of the bridge hiss open. A familiar feeling of joy and relief told her who it was even before she turned around. “Lieutenant Commander O’Dal, you’re just in time.” She knew her voice probably sounded short and casual to anyone else but Kellen. Jacelon turned around and let her eyes declare what her voice couldn’t under the circumstances. “Lieutenant Commander D’Artansis, take us toward the orbit coordinates above the Merealian Mountains. Engage flight pattern Alpha-Beta-4-4.”
“Aye, Admiral. Flight pattern engaged. All we have to do is wait for the welcoming committee.”
Jacelon walked across the bridge until she stood next to Kellen. She briefly let her hand touch her wife’s elbow and received a raised eyebrow in return. “You’re right, Leanne,” Jacelon acknowledged. “And it’ll probably be a very warm one. Plasma-scorching hot, in fact.”
*
Roshan stood on her bridge, allowing the captain to maneuver the large ship at his own discretion. She had enough space training to operate a smaller vessel, but these enormous ones, capable of carrying 120,000 cubic meters of goods, were beyond her capability. Behind her, four more ships of the same size lined up, then six smaller ones—a convoy of hope on a course to Gantharat.
“Paladin to engineering. Is everything prepared?”
“Engineering all set to go,
ma’am,” a concise voice replied.
“Good. Remain on standby.”
“I see we’re about to head home,” Andreia said from behind as she came to stand next to Roshan. “I bet a lot of people will be celebrating in quite a few homes, in a day or two.”
The thought of how the families and loved ones would react to having their missing family members home, without any warning, stung Roshan’s heart. I would’ve given my soul to experience this all those years ago, before I realized that all hope was gone. Scattered memories of her mother surfaced: how she’d touch her with a firm, but gentle hand, when she explained something. Her father, his cheerful smile, the way he adored her mother…No. No, too painful right now. Don’t go there.
Roshan forced herself, like countless times before, to focus on the task at hand. She had hated the endless missions for so long, and it had been nearly impossible to keep her hopes and motivation alive for more than two decades. In the beginning the anticipation of finding out what had happened to her father sustained her. One day he simply didn’t come home from his work at the hospital, and she’d never managed to find out why. Potential scenarios had chased each other through her mind during sleepless nights, and they drove her nearly insane with worry and grief. And now, the feelings are still there. Raw. Like a wound being ripped wide open.
“Yes,” Roshan finally managed to answer Andreia. “I imagine so.”
A discreet touch on the inside of Roshan’s arm startled her at first. She was trying so hard to focus on the space depicted on the view screen, to remain professional, but the mere touch, skin on skin, nearly made her lose control. “O’Daybo. Please,” she said, aware that she sounded as breathless and begging as she felt.
“You’ll be fine, henshes,” Andreia whispered. “You have me to lean on, and you’re not alone anymore.” The simple words penetrated Roshan’s defenses, and she placed her hand, palm on palm, with Andreia’s.
“Thank you,” she whispered back. Andreia’s promise took some of the immediate sting away.
“Paladin! Enemy vessels, at least six of them, at our port bow.” The captain rose from his chair. “The Gallant is moving in between us and them, again, but we have to stay on our set trajectory. Our guests won’t survive in our cargo holds for very long.”
“Steady as she goes, for now, Captain,” Paladin said, and let go of Andreia’s hand. “We need to get them closer to inner orbit before we take action.”
“Yes, ma’am. Maintaining course and speed.”
The Iktysos followed the SC ship on a parallel course.
“They’re gaining on us, Captain,” a young man said from the operations station. “At this rate they’ll be within firing distance in less than two minutes.”
“Give me a fifteen-seconds-interval countdown.” The middle-aged captain sat in his chair, looking grim and frowning.
Roshan walked closer to the screen, her eyes never wavering. The small armada of Onotharian ships looked more modern, and thus more lethal, than the ones that had attacked them just moments ago.
“One minute, thirty seconds until they’re in range, Captain.”
“Paladin to Jacelon. I suppose you see the new arrivals.”
“Jacelon here. I do. We’re prepared at our end. Good luck!”
“Thank you, so are we. Paladin out.”
“One minute, fifteen seconds.”
The seconds rushed by and Roshan counted every single one. She wanted to finish this; it was nerve-wracking to stand helplessly on the bridge, in relative safety, and merely watch, for now.
“Fifteen seconds,” the operations crewman said.
“This is it,” Roshan whispered. “They’re on top of the convoy.”
The Iktysos rocked and stomped underneath their feet, as proof of Roshan’s words. The anticipated attack had begun.
*
Kellen slid her visor down and scanned the information that streamed along her left field of vision, relayed from the Gallant. Normally a navigator handled the incoming data, but Kellen had opted to fly alone. Several of the SC navigators were wounded, and she’d flown solo when she trained in the Gantharian Academy of Pilots.
The data was in order and she opened communications. “Kellen to the Gallant. I’m ready to lead the assault craft team out of here. Are we concealed from the enemy?”
“Yes, the convoy has us in their shadow.”
“Good. Kellen to D’Artansis. Everything set?”
“I’m ready to kick some Onotharian rears, if that’s what you mean,” Leanne replied cheerfully. “It’s about time I get to come out and play with the big girls.”
Kellen smiled, reluctantly, but who could resist Leanne’s unwavering spirit? “Follow me, then.”
Leanne was the leader of one squadron, and Kellen of the other. Flying on parallel courses out of Gallant’s belly, they aligned themselves, as did the other twenty assault craft, ten on either side of Kellen and Leanne. Kellen checked her chronometer and synchronized it with the time given on her visor. “Fifteen seconds, D’Artansis. From now on, radio silence is in place.”
“Understood. D’Artansis out.”
They’d gone over the plan countless times while on their way to the Gantharat system, not knowing which scenario they’d end up in. Kellen trusted Leanne more than most people she knew, with the exception of Rae, and she now worried about the possibility of an overlooked flaw in her plan.
A yellow alert marker showed up on Kellen’s visor, and when it snapped over into red, she pushed her stick forward, dove underneath the convoy, and slingshot her ship out to the other side. Before her, seven ships of varying sizes approached them, as if the Onotharians had scrambled to their closest launch site and merely taken what was currently available. One of the ships was the type of prison transport that had taken her to Kovos, and she knew it had minimal fire power, since the Onotharians considered themselves invincible within Gantharian space.
As soon as Kellen spotted Leanne’s team, she pulled her assault craft into a steep climb, using the most elaborate of evasive patterns. She needed to get close enough to fire at the lead vessel, and unless she stayed away from their torpedoes, she wouldn’t live to tell the tale.
Four of the ships from the convoy took up defensive positions, and Kellen knew that she and the other assault-craft pilots had to keep the Onotharians focused on them. “SC assault craft. Move into position. Delta maneuvers.”
Like small beetles, the lethal vessels surrounded the enemy, moving in a constant, dizzying offensive pattern, designed and tried by Kellen during countless sessions in the simulators back on Earth. The Onotharians fired at them, but with poor result. It may just work. “All assault craft, fire at will, fire at will!”
Kellen pressed the sensor that spread a wide volley of plasma-pulse rounds against the Onotharians. Small explosions erupted, fires that were quickly extinguished by the vacuum in space. Light blue rays lit up the space between the Onotharians and the assault craft, and deep red ones steered toward the convoy.
The four smaller freighters in the convoy seemed to take the brunt of the attack, and Kellen pressed her lips into a fine line as she let her craft spew plasma charges over the rear of the largest Onotharian ship. The massive destroyer-class vessel veered to one side because of the explosions Kellen’s rounds created on its lower decks. Debris slammed into her craft, and she knew she was being careless, moving in too close for the kill.
Kellen easily recognized her inner urge to retaliate, not only for what the Onotharians had done to the poor people imprisoned on Kovos and Vaksses, and several other asteroid prisons, still to be liberated, but also to her father and Tereya. She bared her teeth in a growl while telling herself it was necessary to fly in so low in a death spiral under the belly of the Onotharian ships. Focusing so hard that her jaw cracked and sweat poured along her temples inside her helmet, Kellen fired a new set of rounds, a wide spread of plasma charges into one of the ship’s weapons’ array.
The impact of the exp
losion knocked the controls out of Kellen’s hand, and she spun wildly before her craft’s automatic stabilizers kicked in. Only then did Kellen realize she was caught in the direct line of fire. She pushed the controls, but her assault craft responded too slowly as it turned around, obviously damaged due to its slow reaction, when a red beam seared through the cockpit, right before her eyes.
Kellen flung her arms up, covering her face, and moments later her seat ejected with an immense force that hurled her into space.
Kellen could feel the sizzling in the front of her space-survival suit and knew it had sustained damage as well. She carefully opened her eyes and realized she hadn’t slowed down. Reaching down on both sides she tried to ignite the maneuvering thrusters, but they weren’t operational. Unless she slammed into another object, she’d keep going into the ring of asteroids behind her.
*
“Damn it! Kellen! What’s she doing?” Jacelon stopped cold and watched the view screen in horror. The small, shiny assault craft came out from under the Onotharians’ lead ship, spinning out of control. The small ship was headed straight into the field of fire. She couldn’t order a cease fire from her end, since the other assault craft and the convoy as well would be obliterated, and Kellen would still be in danger.
Jacelon was still hoping Kellen’s luck wouldn’t run out, that she’d slip through between the ships, when a blast hit Kellen’s craft and split it in two. The debris lit up very briefly, then scattered in all directions. “Kellen!” Jacelon gasped. Not again! Déjà vu… “Oh, God, no…” She quieted her pained murmur and turned to the ops ensign. “Life signs?”
The ensign didn’t have to ask whose. “I still get a clear reading of the commander’s biosignature. She’s alive, ma’am, and the force field bubble is operational. However...” She punched in a few more commands, and Jacelon wanted to grab the young woman’s arm and yell at her to hurry up. “Commander O’Dal’s space suit is damaged and so are her thrusters. She won’t be able to command the ejected chair.”
Jacelon didn’t have to hear anything more. If she’d had another ship available, she’d have gone after Kellen herself. However, this wasn’t possible since all accessible ships were engaged in the ongoing space battle. “Jacelon to D’Artansis. Kellen’s ejected and is on a collision course. We’re sending you the coordinates now.” The ensign nodded affirmatively behind her console. “Do you have them, Commander?”
