by Britt Ringel
Standing inside Hussy, Heskan pointed upward with his right hand and made a twirling motion as he spoke into his mic. “Take her up, Chief. You’re done here.” Seconds later, the massive claws attached to the crane’s articulating arm retreated upward from the hold and into the void of space. Heskan walked toward the hold’s control panels near the aft hatch, the suit’s magnetic boots clanging on the stained and scuffed metal deck with each step. After a brief study of the panel, he closed the hold’s twin doors and added gravity and atmosphere to the compartment. The hissing rush of air increased from noiseless to earsplitting before stopping when the panel lights changed from flashing red to steady green.
“Stacy, the middle hold is secure.”
Heskan heard her response over the speakers in his helmet. “Roger, Captain. Aft hold is also secure but we’re waiting to open up the container. I think it might be best to have the komandor present when we do that. Orbital control has given us permission to cast off and Diane is setting a course for the Titan tunnel point. I’m headed down to you now, Captain.”
Heskan opened the hold’s hatch leading to the main deck’s hallway. A slight puff of air blew past him as pressure equalized. He broke the seal of his pressure suit and removed his helmet. Why is she bothering to come down here? he wondered while running both hands through his sweat-soaked hair. Heskan looked down the hallway for her. The stateroom and sickbay lay opposite each other, just down the hall.
Heskan had removed his pressure suit’s gloves and was struggling out of the rest of it when Vernay entered the hold. She greeted warmly, “Welcome home, Captain.”
He offered her a quick nod and smile while shrugging his shoulders through the opening in the back of the suit. With his torso free, he let the suit drop to his ankles and stepped out. “Are we under way?”
“Yes, sir. We’re using conventional propulsion though, because Diane still doesn’t feel comfortable operating Hussy’s Phot0-Sail and this is definitely the wrong system to stall out in.”
“Absolutely,” Heskan agreed. “Time is our enemy. As soon as Brewer discovers the Hollarans are missing, it won’t take him long to find out where they went.”
Vernay inspected the hold’s wall panel and then looked toward the FEUS container. Her face registered distaste for a moment before she said, “You ready to unleash the Kraken?”
Heskan scowled slightly. “She’s not that bad, Stacy.”
“Uh-huh.” Vernay rolled her eyes while walking doggedly over to the container. The multi-rifle Heskan had left on the deck caught her attention and she diverted to it. Upon reaching the side of the container, she rapidly entered commands.
The container gasped as the pressure equalized. Its door swung wide but stopped as collision detection sensors in it perceived the hold’s bulkhead. Heskan could see Lombardi at the front of the container, near the gate. Next to her, another prisoner had the M-41 pistol trained on a prone Jennings.
Vernay walked to the front of the container and said without missing a beat, “Good morning, Agent Jennings.” The gate rolled upward and Lombardi stepped out from captivity. Multi-tool knife in hand, the tall, Hollaran woman met Vernay’s gaze unwaveringly and nodded curtly. “Lieutenant.”
“Komandor.” The reply came like an echo.
Lombardi looked around to gauge her surroundings before her eyes came to rest on Heskan. She bore at him in an unfathomable stare. In an instant, she was in motion. To Heskan, each step nearer increased the voltage between them. Heart racing, the image of a lioness approaching her prey jumped vividly into Heskan’s mind. He saw the knife slip from her hand as she reached him and she rose to grasp his collar. She pulled Heskan close, wrapping her other arm around him as her lips pressed firmly against his own.
For the second time that morning, Heskan felt his knees almost buckle. Somewhere far away, there was cheering and friendly catcalls resounding off metal bulkheads. Far too quickly, the affection stopped and Heskan felt a gentle, indulgent caress through his hair before Lombardi pulled away completely.
She looked unabashedly into his eyes. A smile had curled the corner of her soft lips. “That is how we say ‘thank you’ on New Bari.”
Heskan stuttered, “I, I then need to go to New Baby.” He cringed at his words and more heat rose in his cheeks. Smooth, Garrett. “New Bari,” he corrected. “That’s what I meant to say.”
Laughter broke out behind the couple, causing Lombardi to spin in place. “Silencio,” she good-naturedly rebuked. Grinning, she asked, “Have none of you ever seen a Hollaran komandor greet a ‘Vic before?” Lombardi’s eyes played over the crowd before resting on the chilly gaze of Vernay. “So what is the plan now, Garrett?”
“The plan,” Heskan answered, “is for you and Lieutenant Vernay to open the other cargo container while I discover where the bridge is on my ship.”
Vernay casually gestured first at Lombardi and then vaguely toward the aft hatch with her multi-rifle. “This way, Komandor.”
Heskan watched the two exit the hold, Lombardi’s distinct voice teasing Vernay. “You finally got to point a rifle at me, I see.”
Heskan turned to the remaining crowd. “The rest of you, please make yourselves as comfortable as possible here. I know that’s difficult given how crowded it is but we don’t have a lot of room on the ship. We’ll work things out in a bit but for now, please just sit tight. I promise that once Komandor Lombardi is back, we’ll brief you on what we’re trying to accomplish.”
There were nods of acknowledgment from the Hollarans. The group appeared ragged. Though tired and dirty, they looked content to be free from their cages and to have reason to hope again.
“It will be as you say, Commander,” the fearsome-looking Hollaran with the pistol answered.
The man looked vaguely familiar to Heskan. “Thank you, and I’ll send some people down to take that man off your hands,” Heskan promised. After a quick check to ensure there were no questions, Heskan exited the cargo hold. He walked down the main corridor until he reached the staircase and began the climb toward the bridge.
* * *
Hussy’s main corridor was not quite wide enough for two people to walk in tandem comfortably. Consequently, Vernay let Lombardi lead the way while she walked silently behind her. The overall sense was of a person being marched forward at gunpoint.
The impression was not lost on Lombardi. They had walked in utter quiet through the hallway, and down the companionway to pass by the crew’s quarters. Lombardi finally broke the ice. “You will tell me where to go, Lieutenant, yes?”
“Happily,” Vernay replied callously.
The cool response brought Lombardi to a halt. She turned to face Vernay and noted, surprisingly, that the rifle pointed toward the deck and not at her. “Is something on your mind, Lieutenant?”
Vernay regarded Lombardi distantly. “I don’t think you realize what sacrifices were made to free you and your crew—”
Lombardi brought a hand up to cut Vernay off. “I understand completely what this means for your careers, Lieutenant, and I am truly grateful. However, I did not ask you to throw your career away on my account.”
Vernay shook her head curtly and rose up on her toes in an unsuccessful bid to reach parity with Lombardi. “Let’s get one thing real clear, Komandor. I didn’t do what I did for you.” She rocked back and bit down hard at the admission. After a moment, she collected herself and spoke in a less menacing tone. “I just hope you realize there is more going on here than your freedom, which incidentally, hangs in the balance. You just might be trading a cell in Anthe for a worse one in Bree.” Vernay pointed down the hall with her free hand. “Your people are behind that hatch. Talk to them. Have them stay in the aft cargo hold until we’ve figured out what the hell we’re going to do with all of you. Also, if there is a doctor among your people, one of those ‘careers’ is dying in our sickbay.” She twisted away from a dumbstruck Lombardi and stalked back up the hall.
* * *
Heskan foun
d the bridge quickly. As he entered, Lieutenant Truesworth rose from the captain’s chair and announced enthusiastically, “Captain on the bridge.”
Heads swiveled and friendly greetings from his crew welcomed him. He returned their smiles with one of his own and said, “Thank you. It’s good to see all of you too.” Heskan looked around the compartment and remarked, “Wow, and I thought Ana’s bridge was small.” This room is a pit, he added internally. The chairs are about fifty years old, there are scorch marks on the side of Diane’s nav panel… is that popcorn between the navigator’s and engineer’s consoles?
Selvaggio, noticing Heskan’s inspection, explained helplessly, “I can’t reach it, Captain. The gap’s too narrow to use anything to fish it out and Stacy wouldn’t let me remove the gravity from the room to see it we could float it out.” Selvaggio’s slender fingers worked their way between the consoles but caught at the second knuckle. She struggled to slip her hand in further. “See? It’s driving me crazy.”
“The burdens we must carry, Diane,” Heskan teased. His eyes moved up to the front of the bridge.
Hussy’s screen displayed the system plot. The freighter was cruising at .15c toward the Titan tunnel point. She was only 1.5lm into her 36.6lm journey toward escape. Heskan saw relatively heavy civilian traffic between Pallene and their destination. Most distressingly, a military corvette was docked at the Anthe orbital with a second corvette traveling toward them from the Titan tunnel point. The freighter’s slow cruising speed ensured Hussy would lose any race against a system defense ship. The plot estimated it would take three hours, fifty-four minutes to reach the tunnel point at present speed.
“Diane, can’t we move any faster?”
Selvaggio looked to her immediate right. “Ensign Sullivan, will you explain to the captain why we can’t move faster?”
The former pilot and apprenticing engineer looked sheepishly at Heskan. “Well, sir, I called down to Engineering and asked if we could increase speed but Mr. Müller said it was impossible with only one qualified engineer aboard.”
“Maybe the Hollarans have some engineers,” Vernay suggested from behind Heskan. “Lombardi’s in the aft hold now.”
Heskan twisted to look at her, and he noticed his ribs were stiffening up from his grappling with Jennings. “Stacy, call down to her and have her send any engineers she has to Müller. Also, don’t forget to see if we have a ship’s doctor now.” He punched at his console controls. “Mr. Müller?”
There was a brief pause. “Ja?”
“Mr. Müller, this is the captain. I am going to try to send you some qualified help but regardless, I need more speed from Hussy.”
An audible sigh sounded over the console speaker.
“Mr. Müller, I assume you’d like to avoid Brevic authority as much as we would.”
“Jawohl. I will see what I can do, Kapitän.”
After several moments, Selvaggio announced, “Captain, I think I can now push Hussy up to point one-seven-C and have enough power to keep the inertial dampers nominal.”
Diane recalculated her estimate to Titan’s tunnel point to just under three and a half hours. A little better, Heskan thought.
“Twenty-two engineers made it off Phoenix including their chief engineer,” Vernay said from the auxiliary station. “That’s actually seven more than Hussy needs.” A smile formed on her lips. “We also have a doctor, Captain. He’s on his way to the sickbay.”
* * *
Ensign Gables was dolefully monitoring Vivian May’s respiration. Over the course of several hours, it had become labored and sporadic. Most recently, each breath seemed to elicit a slight whimper as if May’s body was nearing the finish line of a long marathon. She solemnly reached out to hold May’s hand when a tall man charged into the sickbay.
“What is the patient’s status?” he demanded. The Hollaran rushed to May’s side and began cutting away the bandage around her torso.
“Who in the hell are you?” Gables replied, flabbergasted.
Doctor Timoleon finished cutting and pulled up the messy bandage to peer at the ugly wound. He stuck a finger inside the swollen, ragged injury while pressing firmly on May’s abdomen with his other hand. Finally, he answered, “I am the doctor; you are my assistant. Now that the pleasantries are over would you care to do your job and help me transfer her to the E-O table?”
“It doesn’t work,” Gables despaired. The auto-doc table’s software was corrupted and a search for replacement software had proved fruitless.
Timoleon rolled his eyes in exaggerated vexation. He snorted, “Like I would trust that machine to operate even if it were functional. I just need the scanner inside it.” He looked over to Gables. “Break open those shiver-sticks too. Start categorizing the instruments on the operating tray. Please tell me at least the sterilization basin works in this medical bay.”
Gables just stood there, mouth agape.
Timoleon snapped his fingers impatiently. “Nurse, either assist me or go find someone who can! If I do not relieve the pressure against her diaphragm, this woman is going to die soon.”
The statement rocketed Gables into action. She scrambled to the opposite side of May’s bed and prepared to move her friend.
* * *
The door to Envoy-3’s only shuttle opened and Brewer stepped out into the morning air. The typical chill from Pallene’s thirteen-hour nights enveloped the man, but soon the sliver of light on the horizon that was Anthe’s red-hued sun would have its turn and heat the surface well past one hundred ten degrees Fahrenheit. The extreme temperatures between night and day made for a violent global weather pattern.
The gusting, offshore breeze ruffled Brewer’s grey hair. Two bodyguards escorted him from the landing pad on top of the capital’s administration and policy building into an awaiting elevator. When the elevator reopened its doors, Brewer stomped to a nearby office on the top floor. The office was small, especially for one whose title was Secretary of Internal Security, but it would serve well enough in its primary purpose of protection. Brewer felt safely hidden now, far away from his luxurious Emissary-class sloop that remained precariously close to Kite’s weaponry. He sat in the faux-leather chair and flashed a comm request. He had several moments to consider the morning’s events before his request went through.
“Mr. Secretary,” Neal started, “the agents and I are on Kite and I’ve taken command of the ship per the Emergency Powers Act. Still no word on the intruders here though.”
“Good,” Brewer said. “Send your agents to Engineering. That is your priority. The section must remain under your control, Mr. Neal.” Brewer consulted the console inlaid into the desk. “You should receive nineteen more agents from the surface in about fifteen minutes. You’ll get another thirteen about a half hour after that. Once you have enough to keep Engineering, you can send out patrols to track Kite’s intruders down. Have you sent men to Truesworth’s quarters yet?”
“Not yet. I didn’t want to be ambushed,” Neal confided. “The fire alert was cancelled when the atmosphere was evacuated though.”
Brewer nodded. “Overly cautious and we can only hope your timidity won’t have any dire consequences for you. I believe that it was most likely a diversion anyway. Of course, once you have enough agents to send in force, you will have to secure that room.”
“Why would they start a fire, Mr. Secretary?”
“There are several possibilities,” Brewer answered, but failed to present them. “I sent Agent Jennings to help Commander Heskan watch over the Hollarans. Agent Dunn is in charge of the orbital search for Truesworth now.”
“Whatever he has planned has to happen soon,” Neal speculated.
“I agree although it’s possible that the fire on Kite was accidental. It makes little sense to have alerted us to his influence there.” Optimism ebbed into Brewer’s voice. “Catching him on an orbital camera was also a stroke of luck so, perhaps, his plan is falling apart. Stay vigilant and report back to me upon any change.”
Soon though, Truesworth and his pack would be out of the picture and Brewer would be sailing back to Bree with Komandor Isabella Lombardi-De Luca as his prize. Before all hell had broken loose this morning, he had received a report finally revealing the komandor’s identity. Once her academy records had been unlocked, tracing her application to her home world had been simple. Cross-referencing the address had hit upon a match to one of the De Luca family’s plantations on Hollara. Analysts were still evaluating the data for accuracy but Brewer knew the information was true. A connection to his Hollaran intelligence counterpart was the only way the wildcat could have known his real identity.
He smiled slightly as he reveled in the knowledge that their next meeting would crush her soul. The smile broadened when he thought of the rewards he would reap when he delivered her, broken and submissive, to the General Council.
