by Jay Allan
Unless…was it possible Barron had been killed in the battle? That didn’t seem likely. Dauntless didn’t appear to have taken enough damage to seriously threaten an area as secure as the bridge. But anything was possible…a hit in just the right place, a blowout in a system located near the captain’s position…
No, it has to be something else. His thoughts were wild, undisciplined. Part of him rejoiced at the thought of the man who had killed Kat being dead himself. But that was foolish self-indulgence. He needed an ally as capable as Barron, especially if the only help he could expect in the near future was one battleship. Barron was an honorable warrior, a man who deserved his respect. He had dreaded meeting the officer, plagued by his thoughts of Kat. But now his thinking had changed…and he found himself hoping he would get the chance…to meet Tyler Barron, and to fight at his side.
* * *
Travis was angry with herself. You should have been more prepared for that communication. You should have handled yourself better.
She was struggling to regain her concentration. Her duty, both to the Confederation and to Barron, was clear. She had to command Dauntless, and she had to do it with all the skill and dedication Tyler Barron would have. That seemed an impossible task, though she’d done it before. But now wasn’t before. Despite her greatest efforts at discipline, her mind kept drifting back to sickbay, wondering what was happening down there. She’d almost contacted Doc three or four times, but he’d told her he would call with any news. All she could do was distract him from his work.
Her communication with Commander Vennius caused something else to hit home. She had to stand in for Barron not only as Dauntless’s captain, but also as the Confederation’s envoy to the Alliance. Though she lacked the formal viceregal authority Barron had been granted, she knew she had to step into his shoes, do what she imagined he would have done.
“Get me launch control.”
“On your line, Commander.” Lieutenant Darrow typically moved from his place at the communications console to cover her station when she was in command. But she was planted in her usual seat, barely able to even look at the captain’s chair. She would command, but she would do it from where she sat.
“Commander Sinclair, I want you to keep a close eye on the squadrons. I want those enemy survivors hunted down, but Commander Jamison is to head back before fuel status becomes critical.”
“Yes, Commander.” Sinclair sounded shaken, something Travis had never heard from the launch control officer before.
“And I want Green squadron switched over from bomber kits to interceptor. Just in case we need to launch a patrol before the others return.” Travis’s efforts to force her mind to Dauntless’s needs were partially successful. She still wanted to double over and vomit from the stress and worry, but she was holding it together. And all things considered, that was a good result.
“Yes, Commander. We can have them ready in forty minutes. Perhaps thirty.” A pause, then: “Commander, is it true about the captain?”
Word spreads quickly, even on a ship this size…
“Captain Barron is in sickbay, Commander.” She paused, not sure what else to say. “Dr. Weldon is with him.” Her tone discouraged further questions.
“Yes, Commander. Thank you.”
Travis cut the line. She looked down at the comm unit, as if she could use her eyes to will a message from Weldon. But there was nothing. Nothing but silence…and the yawning pit in her stomach.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Fortress Sentinel-2
Orbiting Planet Varena, Cilian System
Year 61 (310 AC)
“I want to thank you for your openness, Commander Vennius. That could not have been easy.” Travis sat at the small round table in a room Vennius had apparently been using as an office. The Palatian had clearly been concerned when she’d told him again that Captain Barron wasn’t available, but he’d invited her to the base and given her a complete recounting of the coup and events since—withholding nothing, from the sound of it.
What little she knew about Alliance culture was enough to give her an idea of the flagellation Vennius was probably inflicting on himself, and the humiliation it caused him to speak of his flight from his home world, especially to an outworlder.
“I asked for your aid, and you have come. To be less than honest would be an affront to honor.” A pause. “Your people fight like warriors, and they should be treated as such.”
“Thank you again, Commander. I am only sorry we do not have more force with us. We requested reinforcements, but I’m afraid there is nothing else close to the Rim, and little to spare elsewhere. We may be on our own for quite some time, and from what you’ve told me, with no way for us to materially force the issue outside of this system, Commander Calavius will likely be able to consolidate the rest of the Alliance fleet, or a significant portion of it. When that happens, he will come here, with overwhelming strength. Ultimately, your continued presence here is an intolerable threat to him, even as he tightens his grip on Palatia.”
“You are correct, Commander, in every particular. Your understanding of the Alliance is impressive, and somewhat surprising.” He paused. “May I ask a question that has nothing to do with the current situation?”
Travis was a little nervous at the change in subject, but she said, simply, “Certainly.”
“Were you on Dauntless three years ago?” Vennius sat still and looked at her intently.
“When the vessel was last on the Rim? When we battled Invictus?” She returned his gaze, but she wasn’t really expecting answers to her questions. She knew what Vennius meant. “Yes, Commander. I was first officer then, just as I am now. Much of the crew is the same, though we suffered considerable casualties at that battle, and in other battles since.”
The two sat quietly for a few seconds. Travis was uncomfortable, unsure where Vennius was going with the inquiry. But he just looked back at her. She thought she caught a hint of emotion, of pain, but then he changed the subject abruptly.
“As you noted, I have told you everything about the situation in the Alliance. I hope that offers you a basis to begin to trust me. Now, I would ask the same from you. We are alone, and you have my word as a Palatian warrior that there are no listening devices active in this room. I ask you now, and I give you my oath that what you tell me will remain between us.” A pause. “What is happening with Captain Barron?”
Travis took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. She didn’t want to tell Vennius…she didn’t even want to talk about it. But she wasn’t just Dauntless’s first officer and acting commander. She was the Confederation’s diplomat on the scene, the liaison to the Alliance. To the Alliance resistance.
“The captain is ill, Commander,” she said softly, trying to keep her voice as even as possible. “I would tell you more, truly, but we do not know what it is.”
“Is it serious? Life threatening?”
Travis hesitated, feeling another urge to shut up, to keep Barron’s condition a secret. But she knew her duty, to the Confederation, to the ship and its crew…and to Barron himself, in whose place she stood.
“It is very serious, Commander Vennius. The captain is in a medpod in partial cryostasis. It was the only way to keep him alive.”
“He was wounded in the battle, then?”
“No. As I said, we don’t know what happened to him. He seemed to be ill as the battle was beginning, and it got steadily worse. Almost immediately after the enemy forces retreated, he simply collapsed. That is when we put him in the medpod. He has not regained consciousness since.” His heart has not beat since, not on its own. He would be long dead if the pod wasn’t breathing for him and pumping his blood. But she held that part back.
Vennius had a grim look on his face. “My sympathies, Commander. That is no way for a warrior like Captain Barron to die.”
“He’s not dead, not yet,” Travis replied, the sharpness in her tone apparent to her almost as soon as she spoke.
“I meant no
disrespect, Commander. I, of course, offer my fervent hopes Captain Barron will recover from whatever…malady…has afflicted him.”
“I apologize, Commander Vennius. I have served with Captain Barron for quite some time. It is difficult enough to deal with the fact that he is gravely ill, but to have no idea of the cause…”
“It is always preferable to know one’s enemy, to face your adversary across a clear and open field.”
Travis could see the difference in their two cultures, but she knew Vennius was sincerely offering his best wishes. There was something else there, too, something she couldn’t place. At first, she’d thought it was some animosity toward Barron, but now she was less sure. Vennius seemed to genuinely respect the captain. She was usually extremely intuitive, but Vennius was a bit of a mystery. Still, she had to admit she liked the Palatian. She wasn’t sure how quickly that would extend to real trust, but her gut was telling her he was a good man, at least of a sort.
“I will keep you apprised of the captain’s condition, Commander. Meanwhile, we will continue damage control on Dauntless while you do the same here. We have no way of knowing when the enemy will return…and we must be ready.”
Vennius nodded. “We will be ready, Commander.”
The two sat quietly again, for perhaps a minute. Then, Travis asked, “Have you considered sending another group of escort vessels out? To attempt to reach and recruit more fleet units…and to scout the nearby systems? We seem to know very little of Calavius’s status. It is even possible others are resisting him, cut off and separate from us here.”
“I have been reluctant to risk too much of our remaining strength. We were compelled to fight our first defense without any small craft. The enemy was almost able to outflank our line.” He looked down at the table. “Still, we cannot sit here with no knowledge of what is happening. I will dispatch the lightest escorts on this mission, holding the frigates back with the rest of the fleet.”
“That is exactly what I would do, Commander. The light escorts are of limited power in the battle line, and they’re fast, maneuverable. They will have the best chance of evading hostile vessels.”
“I will see it done at once, Commander.”
“I’d better get back to Dauntless.” She stood up, facing Vennius. She wasn’t sure exactly what to do. His rank was vastly higher than hers, and they were allies. Yet, Dauntless was not in the Palatian’s chain of command. Even more confusing, she was not officially an ambassador, but she was acting as one. She didn’t give a shit about any of that, of course, but she wanted to show Vennius appropriate respect. Finally, she simply extended her arm in the Alliance fashion.
Vennius stood up, a hint of a smile on his lips as he reached out and clasped his hand on her arm. “You are familiar with our greetings, Commander. I am impressed.”
“The guest should respect the host’s customs; do you not agree?” She knew he did agree. That phrase, and the handshake itself, constituted most of her specific knowledge of the Alliance’s culture, at least outside pure military facts. But if Vennius wanted to believe she knew more, she was content to let him do so.
“I will keep you apprised on the captain’s condition.”
“Please do, Commander.” Vennius reached down to the table and pressed a button. Two stormtroopers in dress uniforms hurried in. “Centurion, you are to escort Commander Travis to her shuttle.”
“Yes, Commander.”
Travis was impressed with the discipline of the troopers. She knew Alliance stormtroopers were proud and well-drilled, but she also remembered Santis, and the fact that Bryan Rogan’s Marines and the survivors of the garrison had bested twice their number. The Alliance officers weren’t the only ones proud of their people’s strength. “I thank you, Commander Vennius.” She paused for just a few seconds, and then she turned and walked out the door.
* * *
“I don’t know what it is, Commander. I’ve run every test, every procedure. I’ve had the AI review everything. As far as I can tell, it’s just heart failure.”
“That’s not possible, Doc, and you know that. At Tyler’s age, with his medical history? You examined him yourself not that long ago. No signs of anything. His heart scan showed perfect health. He was in top physical condition. Can heart disease naturally progress as such a rate?”
“No, of course not. But there is nothing else. I can’t explain it.”
“Radiation? Could he have picked up some kind of contamination?”
“One that didn’t affect anyone else onboard?” He shook his head. “No, I don’t see how that is possible…but I still screened him for every known form of radiation. Also, every known toxin, virus, bacteria, fungus…everything. I have the AI doing an intense DNA scan now. Perhaps he has some genetic anomaly that was missed in earlier examinations.”
“His family is not exactly obscure, Doc. If there was some kind of deadly genetic issue in their history, don’t you think it would be known by now?”
“I don’t know, Atara,” Weldon blurted out, his frustration showing clearly. “I just don’t know. I have no idea what to do. I’m watching him in that med pod, hovering somewhere between life and death. I can keep him revivable for a while longer, Commander, but not indefinitely. And the longer this goes on the less chance there is of bringing him back.”
“I’m sorry, Doc…I know you’re doing your best.” Travis tried to keep her tone soothing. She was almost overcome by her own fear and helplessness, but she knew Weldon was as devoted to Barron as she was, and that he had been working around the clock for days now. “Is there anything I can get you, anything you need?”
Weldon shook his head. “I wish there was. I’m out of ideas, Commander. Apart from waiting for the DNA scan, I’m basically just trying to keep him alive…close to alive…for a few more days.” He paused. “I’m going to have to replace his blood and bodily fluids soon…and that’s going to cut the chances of a successful revival. Every hour that goes by reduces our chances, even if we’re able to figure out what is at play here.”
“Barring some previously undiscovered genetic malady in the Barron genes, this had to be something external, right? I mean, there is no way this was normal degradation of his heart function. Something had to cause it. Maybe some kind of virus you haven’t found yet.”
“I can’t conceive of any known form of heart disease that appears so suddenly and progresses to total failure in a matter of hours, no. But I’ve done every search possible for viral and bacteriological agents…and for biochemical signs of their presence. I’ve even checked against the database of known weaponized diseases from the old empire. Nothing.”
“You have to keep trying, Doc. We’ve got to find out what this is. We have to save him.”
“I know, Atara…but I have no idea what to do. None at all.”
Travis sat there, holding back the urge to push harder, to order Weldon back into his lab. That would be pointless. Weldon had been Barron’s friend longer than she had, and she was sure he would throw himself into the reactor to save the captain. He would do anything possible, even without her pressuring him further. And she saw no reason to increase the pain he was already feeling over his failure to diagnose the problem.
If Tyler dies, he will suffer no less than you…even more, because he will blame himself for not saving him…
“Do whatever you can for him, Doc. He couldn’t be in better hands, not even if he was in the Prime Medical Center on Megara.” She got up and moved around the table, putting her hand on his shoulder. “Tyler is lucky to have you. Whatever chance he has, you gave him.”
Travis knew her duty to Dauntless, its crew, and its captain whom she loved like a brother. She had to take his place, to fill those massive shoes, not just in battle, but in situations like this. Her people were in pain, and they needed her—they needed to see her strength, to draw their own from it. She’d filled in for Barron before, of course, commanded Dauntless in his absence. But it had never been like this before, and she felt
the responsibility with a weight far greater than ever before. She understood, more even that she had before, the stunning pressure Barron endured.
So many times…he sat there like a pillar, giving his strength to all of us. He was always there for us to lean on…but there was never anyone like that for him. I understood command before, the responsibility, stress, duty. But now I see the incredible loneliness it brings.
She felt a surge of determination bolster her shaking spirits. She would fill in for Barron. She would not let him down. She would not let the crew down. Whatever it took.
Whatever it cost her.
“Commander Travis?” Darrow’s voice drew her attention back from her thoughts. She reached down and grabbed the small comm unit on her belt.
“Yes, Lieutenant?”
“We’re picking up energy readings from the transit point.”
Her gut tightened. “The enemy fleet returning?”
“Negative, Commander. The readings are from our entry point. From behind us.”
Reinforcements? But her thought was fleeting, and an instant later realism intervened. No, not possible. But if the enemy had other forces, if they were coming in from behind Dauntless now…
“Bring us to battlestations, Lieutenant. Advise Commander Sinclair I need Green squadron ready to go as soon as possible.” She nodded to Weldon and bolted out of the room, heading toward the bank of lifts. “And get me Commander Vennius, now. Patch him through to my comm.”
“Yes, Commander.”
If the enemy had another fleet ready to attack so soon, and from a completely different direction, that was bad news. It would mean Calavius had managed to rally a lot more of the Alliance fleet than she—or Vennius—had hoped.
“Commander Travis?” It was Vennius.
“Yes, Commander-Maximus. We may have a problem.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
CFS Dauntless
Cilian System
