Legacy Fleet: Invincible

by David Bruns

  The ship settled with a slight bump and the marines ringed her fighter. Addison opened the canopy and raised her hands, calling out, “I’m coming out. Unarmed.”

  She stood slowly, waiting while a flight tech rolled a ladder into place and scuttled away. Addison climbed down the ladder carefully. When her boots touched the flight deck she turned around, arms still raised. “I need to speak with Commander Samantha Avery.”

  A marine lieutenant stepped up. “She’s waiting for you, ma’am, but I’m going to have to ask that you take off your flight gear out here and change into this.” He tossed a hospital gown at her.

  “You’re serious?”

  “Yes, ma’am. There’s a concern that you’re some kind of an alien and this is one way to know for sure.”

  “By me getting naked in front of a whole squad of marines?”

  To his credit, the lieutenant blushed. “I don’t make the rules, ma’am.” He motioned at the gown with the muzzle of his rifle. “Please.”

  Addison stripped off her flight suit until she was standing in her underwear, bra, and T-shirt. “Is this good enough?”

  The lieutenant blushed again, shaking his head. “Sorry, ma’am.”

  Addison bristled as she pulled her T-shirt over her head. “Get a good look, boys. The show won’t last long.”

  She put her arms through the hospital gown and held the back together. “Shall we proceed, Lieutenant?”

  “Follow me, ma’am,” he said, leading the way toward a personnel door. As Addison followed, the marines ringed her. The lieutenant keyed open the door and stepped back.

  After Addison entered, the door clanged shut and she heard a magnetic lock slam into place. Behind a heavy glass wall sat a woman her own age with thick brown hair and a frown on her face.

  “Sam,” Addison said. “Am I glad to see you.”

  “I wish I could say the same, Addison.” Her frown deepened. “You’ve got some explaining to do.”

  Chapter 26

  ISS Victory – Medical Quarantine Area

  Her first-level debrief with Commander Sam Avery had gone well enough that Addison was sent through decontamination and given a uniform—along with a pair of marine guards and strict orders not to speak about the Invincible to anyone on board the Victory.

  “We’ve found evidence of Swarm moles throughout the ranks of government and the military,” Sam told her. “In almost every case, they’re exemplary performers who suddenly get a personality transplant.”

  “That’s exactly what happened to Captain Baltasar,” Addison said. “He just blasted across Russian-controlled space and attacked the Leningrad. No warning, no orders. He just snapped.”

  Sam eyed her. “Our best guess is that it’s a virus of some kind, but we don’t know how it’s transmitted.” She nodded at the red scrapes on the back of Addison’s hands where the decon droid had gotten a little rough. “You’re clean, by the way—as far as we can tell.”

  Addison’s foot tapped a rapid tattoo on the deck. “What’s the Fleet status, Sam? Are we ready to launch a counterattack?”

  “You know I can’t discuss that with you, Addison. Yes, you’re clean, but . . .”

  Addison took a deep breath. “We’ve known each other for how long, Sam? You were my plebe-year roommate, for God’s sake. If there’s any person in the universe who knows me, it’s you.”

  “There’s nothing I can do, Addison. The admiral has a standing order out. And before you tell me to call the admiral, we are on complete comms lockdown until the actual moment of battle.”

  Addison leaped to her feet, pacing the length of the conference room. Sam watched her with slitted eyes. “I didn’t come here to turn myself in, Sam. I have a plan to get back in the fight.”

  “You’re on the sidelines for this one, Addison. Sorry.”

  “No!” Addison slammed both fists on the table. The marine guard at the door peered in the glass, but Sam waved him away. Addison caught her lip in her teeth and pressed down. Maybe she was crazy after all. She slid back into her seat, placing both palms flat on the table.

  “Look—what if I had a way to recapture the Invincible?”

  Sam eyed her warily. “If we could take the Invincible out of the fight, that would even the odds for us. Even with the Russians on our side, we’re not feeling great about our prospects.”

  Addison shook her head. “I’m not talking about taking the Invincible out of commission, I want to retake her. Put her back in the fight. On our side.”

  “I’m listening.”

  Addison resisted the urge to pace again. She lowered her voice, forcing herself to talk slower. “What if we had a ship that could land on the Invincible flight deck with a platoon of marines?”

  Sam frowned. “You mean like a troop carrier? Those things are tin cans. They’d be shot to pieces the moment the Invincible picked them up on sensors. Suicide mission.”

  “Not if the ship was cloaked,” Addison said carefully.

  “The only country with cloaking technology is the Caliphate, and they don’t have any warships.” Sam’s frown cleared. “That’s how you got here! You came in a cloaked ship. That’s why we didn’t pick you up on sensors until the last minute.”

  Addison nodded.

  “So you have access to a cloaked ship? One you can use for this cockamamie plan of yours?”

  Addison nodded again.

  Now it was Sam’s turn to pace. “That could work, Addison. If we used the Victory to get you as close as possible and gave you a small fighter escort, it’s feasible for you to shoot your way onto the Invincible.” She spun on her heel. “I can sell that to the captain, I think.”

  Addison shifted in her seat. “Well, there’s one tiny problem.”

  “What?”

  Addison told her.

  “Are you out of your flipping mind, Addison? Lazarus freakin’ Scollard? That lying scumbag got thrown out of Fleet Academy and broke your heart to boot. He’s part of the plan?”

  “He’s . . . changed.”

  Sam snorted. “No, you’re an idiot. I can’t believe—”

  “He has the ship we need, Sam.”

  “So we take it from him and do the plan ourselves.”

  “If Laz isn’t part of the plan, then you can count me out.” Why the hell had she said that? Still, that was no idle threat; they needed her for this to work. Every Constitution-class ship had slight idiosyncrasies in design and layout. As the person most familiar with the Invincible, she would be a key part of the boarding party.

  “You’re serious?” Sam said.

  “I’m serious.”

  Sam shrugged. “It’s a good plan, despite your lousy judge of character. If you want to trust your life to that lying sack of crap, then it’s your funeral. I’ll take it to the Old Man.”

  Chapter 27

  White House, Washington, DC

  It was difficult for President Quentin Chamberlain to take his eyes off the screen. Cleveland—or the fifty-mile radius that used to be Cleveland—was nothing but a smoking crater of radioactivity.

  “Why did they choose Cleveland?” he asked.

  The bustle of activity in the Situation Room halted momentarily as the assembly of politicians and military leaders focused on his question.

  “I’m not sure, sir,” ventured his secretary of state. “I’m not sure it matters.”

  Chamberlain tore his eyes away from the screen. “Okay, maybe the city doesn’t matter”—he winced at his own word choice—“but why not DC or New York or San Francisco? Why Cleveland?”

  “They just bombed Saint Petersburg!” one of the generals called out. A new satellite image flashed onto the screen. Not that it mattered to Chamberlain; if you’ve seen one nuked city, you’ve seen them all.

  “So now the Russians are in it, too,” the secretary of state muttered.

  “What about China?” Chamberlain asked, thinking about Ivanov’s claim that the premier of the People’s Republic of China was a Swarm agent.
r />   “Nothing yet, sir,” replied one of the Joint Chiefs.

  “Mr. President, we’re on the clock with the aliens,” said State. “What is our answer?”

  “How far away is the Fleet?” Chamberlain asked.

  “Ninety minutes, sir.”

  So there it was: give up without even a fight or condemn another American city—maybe the one he was sitting in—to annihilation.

  “Options,” he said to the table.

  “We need to get you to a safe location, sir. If they decide to hit Washington . . .”

  “Send the Vice President,” Chamberlain replied.

  “We’ve already moved him to Recluse One, sir,” said the Secret Service representative, referring to the top-secret command bunker in Appalachia.

  “They just bombed Milan,” said another general. Chamberlain didn’t bother to look at the screen this time.

  “Admiral,” he said, “talk to me about the precautions we’re taking to make sure we don’t have a repeat of the Baltasar incident.”

  “Sir, our working theory is that we’re dealing with a virus or parasite that has the ability to rework the personality of the host.”

  “So we think Captain Baltasar was infected recently?”

  “We don’t know that, sir.”

  “But he seems to be able to communicate with the Swarm—something which we seem unable to do. How is that possible?”

  “We don’t know that either, sir.”

  “So what you’re telling me is that any one of you could be a Swarm agent and we have no way of knowing?”

  To her credit, the admiral didn’t avoid his gaze. “Yes, sir.”

  Chamberlain closed his eyes. He had to face the facts: there were no good options.

  “Mr. President?”

  He opened his eyes to see his personal secretary looking down on him.

  “Mr. President, Masoud el-Hashem is waiting to see you.”

  “The Caliphate leader wants to see me? Now? Did he say why?”

  “He says he has a message for you, sir.”

  The head of the Secret Service started to get up. “I’ll handle this, sir. We can’t allow him to—”

  Chamberlain waved him down. “Show him into the Roosevelt Room. I’ll see him there.”

  ***

  El-Hashem bowed when Chamberlain entered the room. “I appreciate your attention in this time of crisis, Mr. President. My deepest condolences on the loss of your citizens.”

  Chamberlain kept the table between them and did not offer to shake hands. “Mr. el-Hashem, thank you, but I must insist we get down to business. I assume you are here to offer your assistance in the fight against the Swarm.”

  “I am here to deliver a message, Mr. President.”

  Chamberlain sat down on the edge of his seat. How could the man be so calm at a time like this? “Well, get on with it, then.”

  El-Hashem nodded at the secretary of state, who was about to take the chair next to Chamberlain. “The message is for you alone, Mr. President. One cannot be too careful at a time like this.”

  Chamberlain nodded to State, who left the room.

  “We’re alone now. Please, let’s move this along.”

  El-Hashem nodded. “One of your officers escaped from the Invincible. The Executive Officer, Commander Addison Halsey.”

  “Yes, yes, we know that. We got a short message from her, but we’ve been unable to contact her since.”

  The man gave Chamberlain a patient smile. “That is why I am here. Commander Halsey is a very resourceful officer. She has a plan to retake the Invincible, but she requires your help.”

  Chamberlain leaned forward in his seat. “I’m listening.”

  El-Hashem smiled again. “Please do not be alarmed by what I am about to share with you, Mr. President.” He tapped the side of his temple and a hologram projected out of his left eye. “Meet Captain Lazarus Scollard, of the Caliphate ship Renegade.”

  Chamberlain studied the man before him. Late-thirties, with dark hair and a scruffy beard, Captain Scollard looked like someone who’d spent the previous night drinking.

  El-Hashem spoke. “We’re using Caliphate technology to effect a person-to-person link. Our conversation is based on a long-dead Persian dialect. Even if the Swarm or anyone else could hack the link, there’s no way they could translate what we’re saying. Do you understand, sir?”

  Chamberlain nodded.

  The man in the hologram spoke: “I’m contacting you on behalf of Commander Halsey. She’s aboard the Victory now and she has a plan to retake the Invincible.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “She’s going to need two things to pull this off, sir. Firstly, she’s needs the full cooperation of the Victory. I have a coded message for you to send to the captain of the Victory to ensure she gets the support she requires.”

  Chamberlain raised his eyebrows. “That’s something I can do. What’s the second thing?”

  “She needs time, sir.”

  ***

  Five minutes later, the President was back in the Situation Room. He slid into his chair and squared his shoulders. “Put Captain Baltasar on the screen, please.”

  Baltasar appeared a few seconds later. His eyes gleamed and he smiled slyly. “Right on time, Mr. President. Your new masters appreciate your punctuality.”

  “Our answer is no,” Chamberlain interrupted.

  Baltasar’s head snapped up. Glaring at the screen, he said, “That is not an acceptable answer, Chamberlain. We will annihilate one city every hour until you comply.”

  “We will destroy you,” Chamberlain shot back.

  Baltasar shook his head. “You will suffer a fool’s death, Chamberlain.” The screen went black.

  “The Swarm is dropping another weapon, sir.” The secretary of state’s face was stony.

  Chamberlain ignored her. “Admiral, I want you to transmit a message to the Fleet.”

  Kilgore frowned. “Yes, sir. We’ve instructed them to maintain comms security, but we can contact them if you wish. What do you want to say?”

  “Two words, Admiral: high jinks.”

  Chapter 28

  ISS Victory – Captain’s Ready Room

  Captain Sean Rimaud looked more like a concert pianist or a librarian than a starship captain. He surveyed Addison with undisguised distaste.

  “I should say up front that the only reason you’re even talking to me is because of Commander Avery. I respect her too much to say no, but I am . . . skeptical, to say the least.” He stroked his chin with long, slender fingers as he spoke.

  Sam had warned her, Addison thought. Still, her chance of even getting to speak with any other starship captain was next to nil. The same military bureaucracy that had once given structure to her life she now saw as an impediment to making a difference in the upcoming battle. One thing she knew for sure: if they stuck to standard UEF battle tactics, Baltasar would eat them alive.

  “Thank you, Captain. I appreciate your open mind on this plan.”

  Rimaud sniffed. “Plan is a bit of a stretch, wouldn’t you say, Commander? You want to board a Constitution-class starship that is in enemy hands and retake it with a platoon of my marines? How do you know that Baltasar hasn’t infected the entire crew?”

  “I don’t, sir. But at the least we can surprise him, right? Catch him off guard? Surely that’s worth something.”

  Rimaud spun in his chair. “Then there’s the matter of your accomplice. Lazarus Scollard, an Academy washout—for an honor violation, no less. You trust your life with this man, Commander?”

  “I do, sir.”

  “Well, I don’t.” He shook his head. “My answer is no, Commander. I’m not going to risk my ship and crew on some half-baked idea that will lead to a lot of men getting killed—including you, I might add.”

  “I’m willing to take that chance, Captain.”

  “Well, I’m not!” Rimaud shouted back. He lurched to his feet, walking to the window.

  Addison swit
ched tactics. “What about presidential authority, sir?”

  Rimaud’s reflection in the window laughed at her. “We are under comms lockdown by the order of the President. If you can get the President to violate his own order and send me your super-secret password, then I’m your man, Commander.”

  It took another six minutes for Captain Rimaud to become “her man.”

  Rimaud stared at the tablet, then back at Sam Avery. “You’re sure this is valid, XO?”

  “Yes, sir. We verified it’s from DC with the President’s electronic signature on it.”

  Rimaud stood and extended his hand. “Welcome aboard, Commander Halsey. My ship is at your disposal.”

  ***

  Laz walked down the ramp from the rear of the Renegade.

  “I don’t believe it,” Sam whispered to Addison. “I figured he’d be dead by now.” She leveled her gaze at her friend. “Probably shot dead by a jilted lover.”

  Laz approached the pair tentatively. He nodded at Sam. “You made commander, Sam. Congrats.” He looked at Addison. “You okay?”

  “Thanks to you,” she said.

  “Like I said, we in the Caliphate have our methods. The Supreme Leader is the real hero here. He met with the President personally.”

  Sam interrupted as a marine lieutenant approached them. “We’ve got less than an hour to make this all happen, you two. Let’s get started. This is Lieutenant Ojambe—I believe you’ve met him already, Addison.”

  “It’s good to see you again, ma’am,” the marine said with a wink. “In uniform.”

  Addison blushed. “Thank you, Lieutenant. If we make it through this, I just want you to know that I’m going to make your entire platoon do a strip tease for my personal enjoyment.” Her tone hardened. “This is Captain Scollard of the Renegade. He’ll show you where your men can load out.”

  Ojambe gave a sharp whistle and shouted out, “Third platoon! On me.” A column of men and women in full combat gear double-timed it across the flight deck.