The Ghost Fleet

by Trevor Wyatt

  This did not happen to Flynn. Only a stern warning and a useless note in his file, watered down by his advocate. It reinforces Flynn’s belief that they just wanted me for going over their head with the Galactic Council and the Union. It’s a sad thing to know that corruption and envy and greed exist in this institution that I cherish with my life.

  Since this is the case, it is better I remain in the stars, exploring…and yes, fighting, than behind a desk, pandering to a set of insecure, weak Armada brasses.

  Admiral Flynn flashes me a sympathetic look. “I told you they didn’t give two shits about what you did, son. They just wanted to put you in your place. They wanted to show you that they were still in charge and that you still report to them.”

  I say, “That’s disheartening, sir. Not the demotion, but the reason behind it. If I were paying for my sins, then that’s okay. But I’m not. I’m paying this price because I tickled some top Armada official’s fancy.”

  Admiral Flynn shrugs. “It’s politics, son,” he says.

  “The Military is not a political organization,” I reply.

  “All organization is a political organization,” he claps back, holding my gaze for a brief moment before beginning to pace. He only paced when he was antsy.

  “What’s going on?” I ask. “Why are you so edgy?”

  He stops and looks me in the eye. “This isn’t over, Jeryl. I’ll fix it.”

  “No, you won’t sir,” I reply. I rise to my feet and walk all the way around my desk until I’m sitting on the forward portion of my desk, facing the Admiral.

  “You didn’t cause this,” I say. “There’s no need to fix it. Perhaps, I don’t want you getting into trouble because of this. I am here to serve and I will serve in whatever capacity Armada Command deems fit. If they deem it fit for me to captain a ship, then so be it.

  “I don’t want you raising dust and becoming their target.”

  The Admiral smiles. “You always were an honorable man,” he says.

  I smile back. “I guess that’s one of my fatal flaws.”

  “It’s what makes you such a great officer,” Admiral Flynn says, all of a sudden serious again. “And a good friend.”

  For a moment, we shared a connection, a bond that had been forged in our days back at the Academy when he was my senior.

  “As for your mission, you will be reporting directly to me,” he says.

  I frown. “I thought I’d be reporting to Admiral Ford?” My orders had said Admiral Ford of Armada Command in New Washington.

  He shakes his head. “I got them to change it. I want you reporting to me. I don’t want any obstacles in your career. I think after eight fucking years, we make a great team.”

  I smile at the Admiral. “Thanks, sir,” I say.

  Admiral Flynn nods at me. “See you in a month. Admiral Flynn out.”

  The image vanishes from the screen and I am once again left alone in my ready room.

  “Captain, please come to the CNC,” the communications officers voice comes through the intercom. “There’s something you should see.”

  I compose myself before walking into the CNC.

  “Captain in the CNC!” roars one of the three security personnel stationed in the CNC.

  “At ease, everyone,” I say aloud.

  Commander Ashley is at her station. She winks at me, and I nod back. I walk straight to the captain’s chair and I sit in it.

  Memories surge in my mind. For a moment, I am overwhelmed. I manage to take control of these memories and force them to the back of my mind. Then I bring my erratic emotions under control.

  I look up at the communications officer.

  “What is the matter, Commander?”

  “We just received a priority message, sir,” he says. “It’s sent directly to us, but it’s also broadcasting across all frequencies.” He turns to look at me. “It means everyone can hear what the message says.”

  “Where is the message from?” I ask.

  “It appears to originate from somewhere within the Tyreesian space,” the communications officer says.

  “Greer…” I mutter.

  “Put it on the screen,” I order.

  “Aye, sir,” he says and returns his attention back to his workstation.

  Soon after, a firm looking Greer appears on the screen.

  “I speak on behalf of the Tyreesian collective when I say this. The Galactic Council will fall. The Tyreesian collective is an enemy to this Council and does not support it in any way. We hereby issue a warning to every race that is a signatory to the unholy pact, stay away from Tyreesian space. We will view any and every ship that enters our space as a provocation and we will destroy it with immediacy.

  “And to you, Vice Admiral…or should I say Captain Jeryl Montgomery. You may have succeeded in this round, but don’t get comfortable. This is far from over.”

  The Tyreesian vanished from the screen, plunging the CNC into silence.

  Everyone turns to look at me.

  I heave a loud sigh. Then flash a smile. “Well, at least they got the memo about my new command.”

  The CNC erupts into laughter.

  “What are we going to do about that message?” Ashley asks. “This is an obvious threat to our sovereignty as a people as well as the integrity of the Galactic Council.”

  “Yes, sir,” says the science officer. “I agree with the First Officer. This threat is an act of war. We have to respond in kind.”

  “In kind?” I ask.

  “Yes,” the science officer replies with a straight face. “We have to send a strongly-worded message saying we will not be bullied or subjugated by the Tyreesians and that any attack whatsoever upon any of our vessel will see us bringing the full might of the Armada and the combined military of the Galactic Council to bear on the Tyreesian home world.”

  “True,” I say. “But that’s above my pay grade. We have a one month patrol mission. Why not focus on that and leave the message to the Admirals back at Armada command?”

  This is where the science officer cracks a smile. Relief washes through.

  “Aye, sir,” he says.

  CNC can tell I don’t really give a shit about Greer. Let someone else handle it.

  I want to explore space. Find peace.

  “Is course set for the border?” I ask.

  “Aye, sir,” the navigations officer replies. “FTL is primed and ready. On you go.”

  I sigh.

  Such a good feeling.

  “Go,” I say.

  Fire On The Frontline

  Call of Command Book 3

  A Pax Aeterna Novel

  Copyright © 2018 by Pax Aeterna Press

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons is entirely coincidental. This work intended for adults only.

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  Prologue

  Gunfire shattered the night’s silence.

  Lydia threw her back against the wall of one of the buildings in the alleyway, her heart beating fast. Holding her breath, she pressed the blankets she was holding with one hand against her chest.

  “Shhh,” she whispered as something—someone—cooed from inside the blankets, a tiny hand reaching out to grasp her thumb. “We’re almost there.”

  In the distance, she heard another laser rifle going off, the sound of it like the crack of a whip. Sounds like these weren’t that unusual nowadays, but Lydia had never managed to grow accustomed to them. As far as she was concerned, there were some things no human being should ever grow accustomed to.

  Of course, the Udenar didn’t really care about what Lydia—or any other human being, for that matter—thought. They only seemed to care about two things: making humans do whatever task they d
eemed necessary and instilling fear in everyone’s heart. And not necessarily in that order.

  She still remembered the day the Udenar arrived. She was tending to the fields, running a small army of crop-bots, when the sun was blotted out by thousands of raiders flying in close formation. She didn’t exactly know what was going on, but she was certain that it couldn’t be good—and she was right. The Udenar took over Galea in just one day, spreading over the surface of the small farming colony like cancer.

  A few more days and everyone on the planet had been enslaved. What for, Lydia wasn’t entirely sure. All she knew was that the Udenar were running a tight ship, making every single able-bodied person on the planet work on some kind of mining operation.

  Lydia had done her fair share of work under the Udenar, rewiring her own crop-bots to haul dirt back and forth, but she had enough. She wouldn’t live in fear.

  Peering from the alleyway into the deserted road, she took a deep breath and turned around the corner of the building. Keeping herself close to the wall, she hurried down the street, mindfully placing one foot before the other and trying to make sure she didn’t do more noise than necessary.

  She knew that at this time of the night, she’d be shot on sight. No warnings, no questions, no anything; just a laser burning a hole through her skull. And, come morning, her body would probably be hung in the town’s small square. Whatever could be said of the Udenar’s intellect, they sure had a flair for the dramatic.

  “Almost there,” she whispered to the baby, stealing a quick glance at his rosy cheeks. He looked back at her with his pale blue eyes, and his lips curled into an innocent smile. Lydia wanted to smile back, but the anxiety cramping all her muscles had turned her face into a marble block.

  Out in the distance, an old warehouse rose against the pale moonlight. The ceiling was riddled with holes, and the old hangar doors were on the verge of falling off from their hinges⸺but Lydia didn’t care about any of that. She knew she’d find what she was looking for inside those four walls.

  Looking at both sides of the road, Lydia crossed it hurriedly and then stepped out of it, the tall grass reaching for her waist and brushing against the blankets she had wrapped the baby in. Furtively, she made her way toward the warehouse and then circled the building.

  Although she was almost sure there’d be no Udenar patrol in the surrounding streets for another half an hour or so, she didn’t want to be reckless. And so she did as instructed, heading toward the back of the building, then going straight for the metallic door and fishing a keycard out from one of her pockets. She pressed it against the card reader, and the red glow coming from the small panel turned green.

  Pushing the door open with her sore right shoulder (lately, her whole body always felt sore), she stepped inside the warehouse and narrowed her eyes into slits. She waited for a few heartbeats, and as her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she finally sighed. There, in the middle of all the junk and discarded metal parts, was a large shape covered by a green canvas.

  She was reaching for the canvas when she heard an aircar in the distance. This late at night, it had to be an Udenar patrol. She froze for what seemed like an eternity, hoping that the aircar would simply fly by, but that didn’t happen. Instead, she heard it stop right from across the street, the swoosh of the car’s hydraulics as it landed on the ground sounding just like a death sentence.

  “No, no, no,” she repeated quietly to herself, holding the baby so tight against her chest that her ribs felt as if they were burning. “Please go away, just go away,” she insisted on her silent prayer, closing her eyes and biting down on her lower lip.

  Her prayer didn’t work—she heard the aircar’s door swing open, and the echo of heavy footsteps reached her ears shortly after. When the baby stirred and then cried out, Lydia was almost sure she’d faint there and then.

  Instead, adrenaline kicked in.

  She turned on her feet as fast as she could and pulled the canvas back with the other while still holding the baby with her other hand. She allowed herself a panicked smile as she saw the small shuttle that had been hidden under the canvas and then simply pressed the keycard against the panel of one of the side doors.

  Moving as fast as she could, she jumped inside. Although her heart was beating like a war drum, she could still hear the Udenar’s heavy footsteps rushing toward the warehouse. From the gaps on the battered hangar door, she saw the shaky glow of at least three flashlights.

  Slowing down for just a second, she laid the baby down on the passenger’s seat and cursed under her breath as she tried to work the belts around his tiny body.

  With that done, she finally sat on the pilot’s chair and glanced at the panel and all the electronics—the shuttle was an old HB70 model, used for simple orbiting transfers, and she was familiar with it. Two quick taps of her fingers on the panel, and she waited to hear the familiar rumble of the shuttle’s engines.

  Instead, what she heard was the sound of laser rifles poking holes on the warehouse’s door. She sank in her seat instinctively, the lasers leaving a red glow inside the dark warehouse, and punched the controls one more time.

  And then another. And another.

  “For fuck’s sake!” she hissed, almost on the verge of tears. Some God up above must have taken pity on her, as the engines finally came alive, and the whole cockpit lit up at once, the glow from the control panel and dashboard almost too much for her eyes.

  Grabbing the controls, she forced the shuttle upward, raising it just a few centimeters in the air, and then she held her breath. Tilting the controls forward, she gritted her teeth as the front of the shuttle smashed against the large warehouse’s door, sending them flying back in an arch.

  Right in front of her were three Udenar, all of them fully equipped and wearing laser rifles. Despite their helmets and body gear, she could still make their grotesque humanoid shapes⸺almost like a human, but with awkwardly angled limbs and a permanent hunched back.

  They pointed their rifles straight at the shuttle, and Lydia made a split second decision. Instead of attempting to fly upward and risk being shot at, she just upped the shuttle’s speed. By the time the Udenar realized what she was about to do, most of their blood was already covering the front of the shuttle.

  “Serves you right, assholes,” she cried out suddenly as one of the Udenar flew over the cockpit, rolling over it like a ragdoll. Gripping the controls so tight that she felt the blood run out from her fingers, she wiped the sweat off her brow with her right hand and forced the shuttle to trace an upward arch toward the distant stars.

  Soot and smog that now covered the planet’s surface made it impossible for her to see them, but she knew they were there anyway.

  And somewhere among those stars, she’d have a new beginning for her and her child.

  She didn’t care if that happened on Human Confederation or Terran Union space. Hell, as far as she was concerned, she could start from scratch right among the Sonali. As long as her baby was safe, the rest was nothing more than background noise.

  As she finally escaped Galea’s atmosphere, she held her breath as she saw the star-sprinkled firmament. How long had it been since she had seen a sky like that? Too long, that was for sure.

  She just stared out into space as the shuttle slowly entered orbit, almost hypnotized by the moment. “Wake up, Lydia,” she told herself, sitting straight in her seat.

  She hadn’t had anything to eat in two days, and she hadn’t had any sleep for at least three. But as much as she wanted to rest, she couldn’t do it on Galea’s orbit. The Udenar kept the whole planet under lock and key, and although she was off the ground, she still had to escape the star system.

  She was about to input the coordinates onto the control panel when the whole dashboard turned red. She looked at the shuttle’s sensors and gritted her teeth as she saw a dozen red blips on the screen. A fleet of Udenar raiders, all approaching at a fast clip.

  “God, if you’re out there,” she whispered as she
manned the controls once more, “Now would be a good time to give me a hand.”

  Jeryl

  “Nothing?”

  “Nothing at all, sir. The galaxy has never been this quiet.”

  “Good,” Jeryl whispered as he sat on the captain’s chair, glancing at the viewscreen with a soft smile on his lips. He never thought he’d be happy about the boredom of a border patrol, but after five years of war with the Sonali, he now saw things differently.

  He still remembered the days when The Seeker’s sensors picked up hostiles every single day, and he didn’t miss them for a single minute. Sure, when he was younger he had enjoyed the rush, but after seeing the hefty price humanity had to pay for such a conflict…

  “Start plotting a course back to the Edoris Station,” he said as he glanced at his navigation officer, Lieutenant Docherty.

  “On it, sir,” the lieutenant replied quickly.

  Jeryl’s gaze wandered back to the viewscreen. He breathed in deeply, taking in the vastness of all the empty space that surrounded The Seeker, and he found himself smiling once more.

  Being promoted to Vice-Admiral after the war had felt good, but he couldn’t deny the fact that he felt more at home as Captain of The Seeker. Sure, it had been a demotion, but what did he care? He had his ship, Ashley was by his side both as his wife and First Officer, and the galaxy was at peace.

  Of course, the Tyreesians were probably nursing their anger in some far corner of the galaxy, but they had been keeping to themselves. That probably wouldn’t last long, knowing how the race operated, but Jeryl simply refused to agonize over the future. He’d take it one day at a time, and he’d relish every single day of his life.

  “Engineering says FTL drives will be ready in about five minutes,” Lieutenant Docherty proclaimed from his workstation—a complete mess of blinking screens, all of them littered with navigation formulas and coordinates.