by Trevor Wyatt
“High stakes...high risks,” Jeryl said with a shrug. Sighing heavily, he sank into his chair and closed his eyes; he rubbed them with his thumbs and threw his head back.
Ashley couldn’t remember the last time he had seen Jeryl this tired. He had been awake for close to 48 hours now, pouring over every single piece of information they had on the Udenar and Galea’s star system.
The Seeker’s top officers had been briefed on the mission, and all had contributed to the details of it, but the burden still fell on the captain’s shoulders. He was the one that had to make sure that every single move they did was a calculated one. Failure could mean more than his crew’s death—it could mean an all-out war between the Human Confederation and the Terran Union. And, hell, if there was something everyone was tired of...it was war.
Moreover, if the Tyreesians were really involved...well, that was a whole new can of words, just waiting to be opened.
“Let’s check the coordinates one more time,” Jeryl finally said, opening his eyes again and sitting straight on his chair. He tapped a few buttons on his workstation, zooming in on an asteroid belt close to Galea.
“Again? We just went over it, Jeryl,” she protested, and this time she was the one sinking down on one of the chairs in their private quarters. Ashley had been by his side throughout the whole time he’s awake. She was so tired that it almost seemed someone had been pouring concrete into her muscles. It felt as if they had gone over the plan a thousand times; and if it were up to Jeryl, they’d go over it a thousand more. “It’s no use going over it again.”
“I know. It’s just...we can’t fail, Ash.”
“We won’t fail,” she assured him, reaching across the workstation with both hands. She clasped Jeryl’s hands in hers, her thumbs brushing against his palms, and offered him a tired smile. “Look, we know the details. Every single detail. Hell, I can recite all of the coordinates from the top of my head.”
“I can’t,” he smiled back at her. “But then again, I’ve never been as good with numbers as you are, Ash.”
“And that’s exactly why I’m here with you. What would be of you without your gallant First Officer, Captain?”
“I can’t even imagine,” he laughed, squeezing Ashley’s hands for a second. It felt good to hear Jeryl laugh. More often than not, he was so preoccupied with The Seeker that he barely had the time to do that. She knew how deeply he cared about the ship and its crew, but sometimes she just wished he could turn the ‘I’m-the-Captain’ button off, even if just for a couple of minutes. She was his wife, and she wanted him to be her husband.
Anyone could be her captain...but only Jeryl could be her man.
“We got this, Jeryl,” she whispered, a smile still on her lips. “We’ll jump into Galea’s star system, close to the asteroid belt, and we’ll use that as cover. With some luck we’ll go undetected, and then it’s just a matter of getting a small shuttle or raider across Udenar lines. We’ll get some boots on the ground, and then we’ll figure this riddle out.”
“You make it sound so damn simple, Ash,” he sighed, and even his words seemed to be weighed down by worry.
“That’s because it’s a simple plan. The hard part is the execution,” she told him in a soothing voice. “But we’ve done the best planning we could do. It’s time to act on it.”
“You’re right,” he conceded, and then reached for one of the side buttons on his workstation, powering it down. The moment he did it, the hologram between them vanished. They sat there, looking into each other’s eyes for what felt like an eternity. “I’ve missed you, Ash,” Jeryl finally said.
“I’ve always been here,” she whispered, but she knew that wasn’t entirely true. Sure, Jeryl was so obsessed with running The Seeker that inevitably he had grown distant from her...but what had Ashley done to bridge that chasm between them? She had acted out and behaved like a spoiled kid. Instead of acting as her First Officer and wife, she had chosen to spend most of her time aboard one of the Hunters, preferring the loneliness of space to the company of her husband.
“And that’s where I want you, Ash—here with me.” He squeezed her hands tighter, his eyes never leaving hers. “I need you, Ash. Always.”
“Then…” she whispered softly, running her tongue between her lips and getting up from the chair. She went around the workstation, threw her arms around Jeryl’s neck and sat on his lap. “Why don’t you show me exactly how much you need me?”
Without saying a single word, he tangled his fingers on Ashley’s hair and pulled her close, crushing his lips against hers. To be kissed like that...how she had missed it!
Before she knew it, they were tearing their uniforms out of each other's bodies and stumbling their way across the room. When they finally landed on the bed, with Ashley pinned between the mattress and Jeryl’s body, he took a moment and stared into her eyes.
“I love you, Ash. You know that, don’t you?”
She took a moment to let his words sink in, the warmth of his skin on hers enough to make her forget about how tired she was, and only then did she reply.
“I do. I’ve always known…and I won’t forget it either…” She whispered, and then averted his gaze. She bit down on her lower lip, and then mustered the courage to look into his eyes again. “I love you too, Jeryl, and I’m sorry.”
“Sorry? About what?”
“I know I’ve...been acting differently. Ever since you came back as captain. And I’m sorry for that. I truly am. Out of all people, I should have known how hard it is to command a ship like The Seeker…and I simply haven’t been there for you.”
“Ash…” There was a smile on his lips as he pressed one finger over her lips. All words and apologies died in her throat, and then she simply surrendered both her body and her very soul to him. For a moment, time became nothing more than an abstract concept.
An hour later and they were lying in bed in silence, a thin sheet covering their naked bodies as they stared out into space. The captain’s private quarters had been built in a way that right over the place where the bed was, an outer fuselage panel could be moved sideways into a partition, allowing whoever was on the bed to have a view.
“It’s kind of romantic, don’t you think?”
“What is?”
“To be here, together...a million miles away from civilization, just the two of us among the stars,” she said, looking for his hand under the sheet. When she found it, she laced her fingers on his.
“It doesn’t matter where we are, Ash,” he told her, turning his head to look at her. “Whatever happens, I’ll always love you.”
“Whatever happens,” she repeated, and then drifted off to sleep, still holding his hand.
Chapter 19
Jeryl
“Sir, permission to speak freely?”
“Granted.”
“That’s...that’s a suicide mission,” Jensen said, hesitantly shifting his weight from one feet to the other. He was standing shoulder-to-shoulder with the other Hunter pilots, and in his face was the same look of incredulity everyone seemed to share whenever Jeryl briefed them on the plan. It was a solid plan, Jeryl knew that, but it was also a risky one.
“It’s not a suicide mission, Jensen, and I don’t appreciate the term. It’s just a dangerous mission,” Jeryl replied, doing his best not to let his frustration show. “And that’s exactly why I’m asking for a volunteer and not assigning this mission. You’ll be flying without any kind of backup, and The Seeker won’t be able to help you if you’re spotted by the Udenar. I know all that, and I’m aware of the dangers involved. But we must do this.”
He couldn’t help but feel bad about the whole situation. If he could, he’d just pilot one of these damn Hunters down onto Galea’s surface, kick all the Udenar bastards in the face and head back to The Seeker in time for dinner. But, as things were, he simply couldn’t leave The Seeker without its captain...especially during a covert mission. As such, he had no choice but to delegate.
Del
egation—now that was a word he had never liked, no matter how hard he tried. If Jeryl could, The Seeker would be a one man-show.
Allowing his words to sink in for a moment, Jeryl looked around the deck. The pilots and a few officers were all standing on the flight deck, but none of them seemed ready to step up and volunteer. Which was exactly what Jeryl feared, because that meant…
“I volunteer,” Ashley said, confirming Jeryl’s deepest fears. She took one step forward, her hands clasped behind her back. She was looking straight at Jeryl, but there was no defiance in her face. In fact, Jeryl was actually surprised she had taken this long to volunteer.
Before Jeryl could protest, Ashley continued to speak.
“I’m the best Hunter pilot The Seeker has, Captain. It has to be me.”
Jeryl swallowed down whatever harsh words were making their way up his throat, and then just nodded.
“Very well, Commander,” he said, each one of those words feeling like a thorn on his mouth. “We need one more.”
“Sir, if I may,” Tira started, taking one step forward and joining Ashley, “I’d like to volunteer.”
No fucking way, Jeryl thought. How the hell was he supposed to allow a rookie on such a dangerous mission? Tira was just an inexperienced kid, after all. Sure, she was probably one of the most promising officers in the whole ship—Jeryl knew about all the time she spent in the simulation room, and he had even watched her there sometimes. She also had kept her cool during their run-in with the Udenar, figuring out that the Confederation fleet had lost their FTL drives...which led to Jeryl realizing they were surrounded by FTL mines.
If it weren’t for Tira, The Seeker and its crew would be having a state funeral by now.
But acing simulation scenarios and keeping your cool inside the comfort of CNC...well, that’s extremely different from being down on the ground, completely cut off from any backup and nothing but your guts to fall back on.
“Officer Tira, I know you mean well, but—”
“You’re mistaken, Captain,” she said, her tone so confident and steady that it surprised Jeryl. “I don’t mean well. In fact, I don’t mean anything. I just want to do my job.”
“Your job, huh?” Jeryl whispered to himself, once more looking around the flight deck. Tira Avae, nothing more than a novice fresh out of the Academy, was volunteering to go on an extremely risky mission—a ‘suicide mission’, in Jensen’s words—while grown-ass men cowered in fear.
Well, he had to give her some merit: the kid had guts.
“Have you ever flown one of these things?” Ashley asked her, patting the door of her Hunter with one hand.
“No, but I’ve logged my fair share of hours on the simulator. I’m more than capable of being your second, ma’am,” Tira said, her voice not faltering once. Jeryl wasn’t sure if the girl was confident, delusional, or just batshit crazy.
Whatever it was, he was starting to like her.
“Well, that’s settled then,” Jeryl forced himself to say. The last thing he wanted was to send his wife down onto a planet overrun by the Udenar with a rookie as her only backup, but there was nothing he could do about that. Of course, knowing that the Tyreesian were probably lurking somewhere didn’t exactly ease his mind.
He had badgered Flynn about Galea, and now he had gotten what he wanted. He just hoped he wouldn’t have to pay a steep price for it.
“Alright, come here the two of you. As for the rest...dismissed,” he said, walking toward Ashley and Tira. “You understand that this is a covert operation, don’t you? The President of the Terran Union has no knowledge about it, and the higher-ups in the Armada will deny any involvement if this thing goes south. You’ll be on your own down there. You understand?”
“I do,” Tira said, her eyes never leaving the captain’s. The girl was smart enough to understand that Jeryl’s little speech was meant for her and her alone. And she didn’t even appear to mind one bit—she seemed to understand that she’d be seen as a novice until she proved herself, and Jeryl was sure the girl was eager to show the world what she was made of.
Once more, Jeryl couldn’t help but think of how much she reminded him of a younger version of him; fearless and brave beyond measure. Was he still that same guy? Or had the horrors of war changed him into someone—or something different? Someone more cautious, more calculating, and...colder. That was a question Jeryl wasn’t sure if knew the answer to.
“I won’t disappoint you, sir,” Tira added, and Jeryl smiled at her.
“I know,” he said. “Dismissed.”
He watched Tira walk away and rejoin the pilots and other officers, and then turned to Ashley. “Do you think this is a good idea? I’d prefer having someone more experienced down there with you.”
“Yeah, well...seems like all the experienced officers weren’t that really into it,” Ashley said with a smile and a shrug. She was so casual about it that it was almost as if she didn’t understand how dangerous her mission was.
But Jeryl knew that if there was someone aboard The Seeker who knew just exactly how dangerous their mission was, it had to be Ashley. She was the one that worked out all the details in the plan, ironing out whatever creases were in Jeryl’s initial draft.
“I’m serious, Ash. We have no idea what you might find out on Galea.”
“That’s exactly why I’m going in,” she said with a smile, and then turned on her heels and started walking out of the flight deck.
As he watched her leave, he couldn’t help but think about how every woman that served aboard The Seeker seemed to score so high in the batshit crazy scale.
Maybe that was the reason behind The Seeker’s fame and success: its badass women.
Chapter 20
Tira
Tira stared at herself in the mirror.
Her hair was tied in a bun, and she already had her flight suit on. Her helmet was resting on the counter in front of her, the shape of a white thunder drawn on the curved black surface. Taking a deep breath, she grabbed her helmet and walked out of the locker room, a confident skip to her step.
“You can do this, Tira,” she told herself as she made her way toward the flight deck, her heavy boots eerily echoing in the deserted corridors. By the time she got to the deck, Captain Montgomery and Commander Gavin were already waiting for her, a small team of flight engineers and mechanics assembled around Hunter 9.
“And there you are,” the captain greeted her, and Tira saluted him.
“At ease, Ensign,” he told her, an easy and comforting smile on his lips. Although his tone was a soft one, Tira wasn’t sure she liked it—what if he was merely being nice to her because he knew that the mission, as Jensen had so eloquently put it, was a suicide one?
No, snap out of it, she admonished herself. He’d never send his own wife to a certain death...or would he?
Captain Montgomery was, after all, known as the kind of guy that would do anything at the service of the Armada, including disrespecting his superiors and going against direct orders. Tira just hoped he wasn’t crazy enough to send his wife—and Tira as well—on a suicide run.
“Nervous?” Jeryl asked her. She immediately shook her head.
“Not at all, sir,” she replied, and it was the truth. Although there was some slight anxiety, she didn’t feel nervous. She had trained for this as hard as she could, and she felt she could handle anything the Udenar or the Tyreesian threw her way. Tira had a mission to perform, and she’d make sure she’d succeed at it...whatever the cost.
After all, she hadn’t managed to score a position on The Seeker just so she could die on some shitty planet. No, Galea would be just a stepping stone, a springboard of sorts. By the time she was finished with the mission, The Seeker’s captain would realize her potential and look at her as something other than a rookie. She’d make sure of it.
“Good,” Commander Gavin said, stepping between Tira and the captain. She reached for Tira and squeezed her shoulder. “We’ll crush it.”
“We w
ill.”
“Right,” the commander continued. “Did you review all the changes we’ve made to the Hunter?”
“I did, Commander,” Tira nodded, mentally checking off every single thing the engineers had changed in Hunter 9.
To make sure they wouldn’t be detected by the Udenar, stealth equipment had been installed on the small Hunter, and there was a frequency jammer as well, in case they were spotted. If that happened, they’d have some time to shoot down whoever had spotted them before they could communicate back to their base.
The co-pilot’s chair had also been adjusted, so that there was some space in the back—that allowed them to carry some equipment down onto the planet, instead of having to face potential hostiles with nothing but a side gun, a flight suit and a helmet. As far as Tira was concerned, a side gun was all she needed...if needed be, she’d just make her way through the Udenar using nothing but her fists. But if she didn’t need to rely on her fists, all the better. Tira didn’t want Commander Gavin to see how truly good she was.
And Tira was good. Really good.
“Ready?” Commander Gavin asked, and Tira nodded her assent. In silence, the two of them climbed up the ladder that lead to the Hunter’s cockpit. Then they put their helmets on and adjusted their seats so that they could reach the control panel easily.
“Try to stay away from the Udenar,” Jeryl said, looking up at them from the ground. “But if you come across any of those assholes, you know what you have to do...give ‘em hell.”
“We’ll give them seven different hells to consider,” the commander replied, then pressed a button on her panel. The cockpit’s cover slid down to protect Tira and her from the vacuum of space.
“Lift off,” Tira confirmed, checking on her dashboard as Commander Gavin turned the Hunter’s engine on, making it hover over the flight’s deck. Tira grabbed her controls tightly, and pressed her back hard against the seat as Ashley maneuvered the small raider out of the flight bay and across the hangar deck.
