The Ghost Fleet

by Trevor Wyatt

  “Could be,” Mahesh replied casually. He didn’t care if the occupants of the shuttle were from the Terran Union or the Human Confederation. Even if the occupants were Tyreesian, Mahesh still wouldn’t care. He operated on a single directive: to save lives. Every life.

  They walked in silence down the hallway that lead to one of the elevators. The door slid open almost immediately, and Jeryl and Mahesh stepped inside.

  “Hangar deck,” Jeryl said out loud, and a blue bar lit up right above the elevator door.

  “Hangar deck,” the ship’s AI monotone voice repeated, and a second later they were on their way.

  The ride down to the hangar was fast, and Jeryl almost jumped out from the elevator the moment the doors slid open. He couldn’t tell if that was because he needed to see the woman inside the shuttle or because he wanted to see his wife and make sure she was alright.

  “Where is she?” Jeryl mumbled to himself as he stepped into the hangar, looking around it and trying to spot Ashley’s raider. Most pilots were still wearing their flight suits, so they almost seemed like carbon copies from a distance. But he spotted her the moment his gaze touched her—how could he ever mistake her for someone else? Her hair cascading down her shoulders, that perfect silhouette...after all this time, Jeryl still found it hard to accept that Ashley was his wife. The way he saw it, he was a lucky man.

  Without slowing his step, he made a straight line toward Ashley, leaving Mahesh behind. The doctor quickly veered off and started casually checking up on the other pilots; he didn’t need to do it, but Jeryl knew it was because he wanted to give Jeryl and Ashley a few seconds of privacy.

  “Ash,” Jeryl whispered the moment he closed in on her. Their eyes locked, and for half a second Jeryl almost leaned in to kiss her, but somehow resisted the urge and kept his back straight. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine. Why shouldn’t I be?” Ashley responded, cocking one eyebrow up. Jeryl pursed his lips and frowned at that.

  “You weren’t supposed to be out there, Ash, and you know that too damn well.”

  “Why? I’m not made out of porcelain, Jeryl, and you know that I can handle myself out there,” she hissed, taking one step back and staring back at her husband. For the time being, she wasn’t an officer looking up at her Captain—she was a woman trying to prove to her husband that she didn’t need to be coddled. Jeryl knew that, but he didn’t particularly care for it.

  “I’m not protecting you because you’re my wife,” he whispered at her, trying to keep an appearance of normalcy to everyone else on the hangar. “The reason I don’t want you out there is because you’re my First Officer. And the CNC is where I need my first officer to be—not out in space like some goddamn maverick.”

  “A maverick?” Ashley snorted. “I’m not a maverick. I went out there and did what I was supposed to do.”

  “Without approval.”

  “Without approval,” she repeated, almost as if she was willing to challenge Jeryl’s authority. Then, she finally sighed and ran one hand through her hair, her helmet trapped between one elbow and her waist. “Okay, you’re right. My name wasn’t part of the flight plan for today. But you know I can fly better than the others, and I didn’t want to risk these raiders shooting down the shuttle. That thing would fall apart if they had landed one single shot. Lucky for us, these Udenar can’t aim for shit.”

  “Yeah,” Jeryl agreed, not willing to push the issue anymore. He’d sort it out later. Right now, the important thing was the shuttle.

  Turning on his heels, he followed Ashley’s gaze and looked at the HB70 shuttle—it sat in the middle of the hangar almost like a museum piece, its fuselage all rusted out. Jeryl felt tempted to kick the thing on its side just to see if the engines would fall.

  “Well, you saved the day...you do the honors,” Jeryl said, waving one hand at the shuttle and looking at Ashley. Finally, she cracked a half-smile.

  “Don’t mind if I do,” she replied and then rushed toward the shuttle. Mahesh and some security personnel were already gathered in front of one of the side doors, but no one had taken the initiative of opening it.

  “Don’t tell me you’re planning on knocking?” Ashley asked, and without another word pushed the door open and stepped inside the shuttle. Jeryl quickly followed after her, and his heart tightened at the scene in front of him.

  Lydia was passed over the controls of the shuttle. Up close, she looked young and beautiful, her brown hair cut short in a hazardous way. Despite her beauty, she seemed too thin and frail for her own good. Jeryl was more than willing to bet a few hundred credits that if he peeked under the woman’s ragged shirt, he’d find ribs that looked like piano keys.

  “Mahesh, get in here!” Jeryl barked immediately, and the doctor quickly got to work. He was so fast Jeryl only saw a blur—one moment he was walking past him and Ashley, and now he was already kneeling in front of the unconscious woman and checking her pulse.

  “Ash,” Jeryl whispered softly as he saw what was on the passenger’s seat.

  “Oh. It’s the—”

  “I know.”

  That was all what Jeryl managed to say, all of his attention focused on the pile of blankets on the passenger seat. From inside the blankets, a tiny baby smiled up at Jeryl, his pale blue eyes meeting the Captain’s.

  “Come here, little one,” Ashley said, leaning over and picking up the baby and cradling him against her chest. “Shhh, it’s okay now. We’ll take care of you.”

  Jeryl simply stood there with his feet glued to the floor, looking at his wife as she held the baby in her arms. For a moment, he almost forgot he was aboard his own ship, his mind taking him into a future where Ashley would be holding his own child, a future where she wouldn’t have to call him Sir or Captain any longer.

  “I get it, Captain, you love kids,” Mahesh said, derailing Jeryl’s train of thought. “But this woman needs to get to the medbay fast.” As he stood up, Mahesh locked his eyes with Jeryl’s and lowered his voice. “And by fast, I mean now.”

  Ashley

  “Do what you need to do, doc,” Ashley told Mahesh, still cradling the baby against her chest. She couldn’t help but notice that despite the mother’s condition (if she was, in fact, the baby’s mother), the child seemed to be healthy.

  She wondered about the kind of effort it took to keep a baby well-fed when your own ribs seem to be eager to poke a hole through your skin. A shiver ran up her spine as she tried to imagine whatever hellhole these two had escaped from.

  “The baby too,” Mahesh continued, and reached for him rather unceremoniously. For a second, Ashley almost clutched him tight, but then her common sense prevailed and she carefully lowered the baby onto Mahesh’s extended arms.

  The doctor looked down at the child for a moment and smiled at Ashley, unable to resist the charms of a human that still hasn’t gone through the pains of growing up. “He seems fine, but I want to be sure.”

  “Of course,” Ashley and Jeryl said at the same time, exchanging a glance as they did so. Before she knew it, she was blushing. She looked down at her feet then sucked in a deep breath.

  Jeryl was right to be mad at her, she knew it, but she was growing tired of...pretty much everything. Just a few months ago The Seeker had been hers to command, and now she was back at being Jeryl’s right hand. She didn’t despise her position, but she didn’t relish it as much as she used to.

  Besides, being back together as Captain and First Officer wasn’t exactly helping their marriage. She knew that was a possibility the moment she said yes and then decided to keep serving aboard The Seeker, but what else could she have done? Enter a marriage and be apart from her husband from months at a time for God knew how long?

  “Comin’ through,” two of Mahesh’s medical staff announced as they rushed onboard the old shuttle. A high-end stretcher hovered behind them, carefully maneuvering its way in and somehow not bumping against any of the people inside the cramped shuttle.

  Ashley stepped to the side
and stood in silence as the two men grabbed the unconscious woman and moved her to the stretcher under Mahesh’s attentive gaze. They covered her with a thermal blanket, and then tapped a button on the stretcher; immediately, the stretcher’s small dashboard lit up as it started doing a readout of the woman’s vital signs.

  “Hold on!” Ashley positioned herself at the door before the stretcher could leave the shuttle. Then, she knelt by the stretcher’s side and grabbed the woman’s hand, carefully holding it. She wasn’t sure if the others had seen it, but she could almost swear the woman had stirred. And she was right—the moment she laced her fingers on the woman’s, her eyelids fluttered open.

  “W-where…?” She mumbled, her eyes going around the room and taking in the faces of the Terran Union officers that surrounded her.

  “You’re aboard The Seeker,” Jeryl replied at once, standing over Ashley. “My name is Captain Jeryl Montgomery. We got rid of the Udenar, and took your shuttle in.”

  “James?” The woman continued, ignoring Jeryl and still looking around.

  “This little one?” Mahesh asked, joining Ashley and Jeryl. He leaned in slightly, showing the woman her baby. By now, he had already replaced the ragged blankets the young James was wrapped in with a thermal blanket.

  “James…” The woman coughed as she said the kid’s name, reaching out for him with both arms. Mahesh hesitated for a moment, but then relented and carefully allowed the woman to take the baby into her arms. The moment she felt the child against her chest, she sighed heavily and closed her eyes, a pale smile taking over her lips. “Thank you,” she then said, turning her head around so that she could look up at Jeryl.

  “This is what we do,” Ashley replied, squeezing the woman’s cold hand in hers. “We’ll have some questions for you, but right now the important thing is to make sure you’re well. The rest can wait.”

  “They came...they came without warning,” the woman started, almost as if she didn’t hear a single word of what Ashley had just told her. She seemed eager to tell her story, and Ashley wasn’t about to stop her.

  “They?”

  “The Udenar...they came all at once. We couldn’t escape...we just couldn’t,” she continued, her eyes now closed once more. Ashley pursed her lips as she felt the woman’s fingers tightening around hers, almost as if she was reliving whatever it was she was trying to tell The Seeker’s crew.

  “Where did that happen?” Ashley insisted, eager to have anything she could look into. She had never met an Udenar, but a fiery hate was already burning inside her—they were more than willing to murder a woman and her child, and that was something Ashley couldn’t forgive.

  “Galea…” The woman whispered.

  Ashley and Jeryl exchanged another glance. Neither of them knew anything about a place called Galea—if she was talking about a planet, that ruled out Terran Union space.

  “Is that a planet, Lydia?”

  “Y-yes,” she replied, her voice growing fainter by the second. “Just a small farming colony. Not much to look at, but we...we had our lives there.”

  “What happened? Did the Udenar raid the planet?” Jeryl asked, now kneeling besides Ashley.

  “Not exactly…” Lydia replied, making a herculean effort to keep the words coming. Ashley was about to follow-up on Jeryl’s line of questioning when she felt Mahesh’s right hand on her shoulder.

  “Alright, I know you have lots of questions to ask the lady,” the doctor said, softly squeezing Ashley's shoulder, “But right now we need to get her to the sickbay. Whatever it is she has to tell us...it’ll have to wait.”

  “Very well, doc.” With a nod, Jeryl and Ashley stood up and moved to the side, allowing Mahesh’s personnel to lead the stretcher out of the shuttle. They followed after, then stood side-by-side as they watched the woman be carried away, the small child on her arms.

  “We need to look into this,” Ashley started, looking at Jeryl not as his wife, but as his First Officer. There were a lot of questions to be answered, and Ashley hated it when her queries were left unanswered. Why were the Udenar operating on this sector? Why were they raiding a small farming colony?

  “I know,” was Jeryl’s mere reply, his face blanketed with a steely expression. He was deep in thought, probably trying to analyze the few pieces of information Lydia had given them.

  “The Udenar haven’t been that active in this sector,” Ashley offered.

  “I know. I took a look at the border patrols on this sector, and not a single Udenar ship has ever been detected in the area. Any other day, and I’d say this was the result of a simple Udenar incursion...but something here doesn’t sit right.”

  “Yeah,” Ashley agreed, “It definitely doesn’t.”

  “We’ll figure it out.”

  With that, Jeryl looked into her eyes. She almost expected him to smile, but he didn't. He just turned on his heels and marched out of the hangar deck, taking one of the elevators. Ashley stood there for a moment, still carrying her helmet on one hand, and then made her way toward her Hunter raider.

  She had started piloting one of the small ships the moment The Seeker’s hangar had been expanded to accommodate them, and she had fallen in love with the freedom that it provided her with. Inside the cramped cockpit, she was alone, her thoughts and the comms’ chatter being her only company. Despite Jeryl’s protests, Ashley had kept on piloting the raiders.

  You’re a rebel inside your own ship, she thought, and then smiled sadly.

  Admiral Flynn

  “…Galactic Council policies have been on debate since the…”

  “Oh, shut up!” Flynn grumbled, one hand on the controls of the aircar and the other on the side dashboard. He punched a few buttons and the image of a newscaster was replaced by one of an enthusiastic jazz band. He had had enough of the Galactic Council and the constant reporting on it—as far as he was concerned, it was enough to have to pour over dozens of briefs every single day; he didn’t need to hear all the made-up bullshit that passed for news these days.

  “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.