by J. J. Green
“Thank you, sir,” exclaimed Sayen, but the admiral had already broken the connection.
The Thylacine was Jas’ command. Sayen was sure that was what she’d heard. Throughout the Shadow War official comms passed through deep encryption algorithms and personal comms had been strictly forbidden for security reasons. The risk of vital information leaking out was too high. As a result, Sayen hadn’t sent or received a word from her friend for five years. It had only been when Jas’ rapid rise to the rank of commander became a topic of gossip that Sayen had known that she was still alive.
And now, after all this time, she would see her again.
It took Sayen only ten minutes to prepare to leave. It didn’t take long to pack when all your belongings were neatly arranged in drawers and your cabin was already spotless and tidy. She shouldered her regulation duffle bag and trotted through the ship to the gateway door.
She knew the destination well. It had been at the same gateway door that Sayen had arrived aboard the Camaradon when she’d signed up to fight all those years ago. She recalled the massive bay holding the huge military transports and the crowds of volunteers of all species who were flooding in to join what everyone had seemed to think would be a short fight.
She and Jas had been assigned to different vessels, and her last glimpse of her tall, Martian friend had been as she left to command a team of defense units. Jas had been upset that her sweetheart, Carl, had volunteered before them. Sayen also hadn’t seen Carl for five years. She hoped that he and Jas had met again in the intervening time.
Sayen navigated the Camaradon’s corridors with ease. To give herself something to do during her enforced break from work, she’d explored the battleship from top to bottom. It was an impressive vessel, nearly a kilometer long. Its size meant that it required two sets of starjump engines, and they were positioned to each side of the central working and living areas. The largest pulse cannons were fixed onto the engines to better utilize their energy generation capabilities if the ship’s stored power ran low. During a space battle, the Camaradon could continue firing long after lesser vessels had exhausted their power.
Sayen arrived at the gateway entrance. The alien guard in charge scanned her embedded chip and said, “You’re early, but you can go now if you want.”
Sayen nodded, excited at the thought of being reunited with her old friend. They’d been through so much together.
The guard started up the gateway. It was only the second time Sayen had traveled via the Transgalactic Council’s classified technology, usually reserved only for high-ranking individuals on urgent business. At the guard’s signal, she stepped into the mist and out into the reception area of the Thylacine.
She’d half-expected Jas to meet her, but there was only a young first officer who introduced himself as Trimborn. She guessed that Jas didn’t know who Pacheco had sent as a replacement navigator.
“Boy am I glad to see you,” Trimborn said. “We were waiting all night for the admiral to send us a replacement navigator. I guess he’s busy preparing for the battle. I’ll show you to your cabin. After you drop off your stuff, I’ll take you directly to the bridge. We don’t have long before we go into battle, and I’m sure you’ll want to familiarize yourself with the Thylacine’s controls.”
“I would, thanks,” Sayen replied.
She matched the officer’s quick pace as they did as he’d said. As they went along, she took in the attitude of the crew and the general state of the ship. Everyone seemed to know what they were doing, and there was no slouching about or time wasting. All seemed in good order. The Thylacine was shipshape and ready for battle. But then Sayen expected no less with Jas at its command.
She thought she’d have a little fun with the first officer.
“Hey, Trimborn,” she said, “would I be out of line to ask what Commander Harrington’s like? I heard she has quite a reputation.”
The first officer twisted his lips in a slight grimace as he considered his answer. “Let me put it like this: the commander’s a bit of a dragon, truth be told, but the crew have a helluva a lot of respect for her. Some commanders that I’ve served under seemed to think of losing crew as unfortunate but necessary collateral damage, but not Harrington. You know that when it comes down to it, she’s got your back, if you know what I mean.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Sayen replied. “I think so too.”
“Wait a minute,” Trimborn said, “I thought you hadn’t served under her.”
“I haven’t, but I know her from way back before the War started.”
Trimborn sucked air between his teeth and looked at her from the corners of his eyes. “I guess I’m lucky I didn’t say anything worse. Is what I said going to get back to her?”
“Don’t worry. Commander Harrington wouldn’t give a damn whether anyone thought she was a dragon. She might even take it as a compliment.”
She put her duffle bag on the bunk in her new cabin and followed the first officer to the bridge. The bridge doors parted, and Sayen stepped through into the familiar setting. Over the years, she’d served aboard several Unity ships. The sight that interested her was the figure sitting in the commander’s seat with her back toward her.
Sayen would have recognized Jas’ tall figure and short, reddish-brown brown hair anywhere.
“Commander,” Trimborn said, “our replacement navigator has arrived.”
“Good,” Jas replied without looking around. “Take your seat, Navigator. We’re running through pre-engagement checks.”
“Yes, Commander,” Sayen replied with a smile. She went to the empty navigator’s station and sat down. With a sweep of her hand, she activated her interface and bent over it, wondering how long it would take for the penny to drop.
When she glanced in Jas’ direction, she saw her friend staring at her, the light of realization dawning on her face. Her mouth opened then shut abruptly as she appeared to remember where she was.
For the next hour, Sayen and the rest of the officers on the bridge ran through the battle prep, testing and retesting their controls. Jas led them through it, her demeanor calm. Occasionally, her and Sayen’s gaze would meet briefly, but they stayed in their professional roles while the process was completed.
“Thanks, everyone,” Jas said finally. “Please remain at your stations while we await the order to jump. Shouldn’t be long now. Navigator Lee, I’d like to speak with you for a moment.”
Sayen got up to follow Jas out of the bridge, but her pleasure at meeting her friend again was tinged with concern.
While the officers had been carrying out the checks, she’d had time to see how much Jas had changed. When Sayen had known her, she’d exuded vitality and strength. But Sayen’s impression of her old friend this time around had shocked her. Jas was thin, and she’d lost her previously firm, well-muscled physique. What was more, stress and exhaustion were written into her features. She looked like she hadn’t slept properly in days.
Worse than all this was something else, something that underlay all of the other signs of a long-serving, overworked Unity commander. What jumped out at Sayen about Jas was that she seemed to be living with a deep sadness.
Chapter Eleven
As soon as they reached a corridor that was empty, Jas grabbed Sayen into a hug. She was half-tempted to lift the petite woman off of her feet and swing her around, but she guessed that Sayen might find that undignified.
As she let go of her, she exclaimed, “When Pacheco said he was sending me another navigator, I didn’t guess for a second that it would be you. Where have you been all this time? What have you been doing? Ough.” She let out a gasp of frustration. “Why does it have to be now, right before a battle, that we get to see each other again? I wish we had more time to talk.”
“Me too,” Sayen replied. “But forget what I’ve been doing, what have you been doing? You’re a commander. That’s amazing.”
Jas made a self-deprecating meh. “I had inside help, I think. Look at you,
though. You haven’t changed a bit. You look exactly the same as you did five years ago.”
“That’s no surprise,” Sayen replied. “The doctors who created my enhanced skin told me that it doesn’t age, so I’m gonna look like this until I die.”
A crew member appeared around a bend in the corridor, and both women became silent. Jas had hunched over to talk quietly to her short friend, but at the sight of the man she drew herself up. As soon as the man had passed them and disappeared around the next bend, she returned to her former position.
“Guess what,” she said, “Toirien MacAdam’s aboard too. Do you remember her? She was the only engineer aboard the Galathea who survived the Shadow attack and the crash. ”
Sayen said, “Yeah, I remember hearing about her. How’s she doing?”
Jas briefly filled her in on Toirien’s life story since she’d returned to Earth. “It seems weird that the three of us should come together again just before this final battle. There’s even an old defense unit from the Galathea aboard.” She looked pensive.
“The final battle?” Sayen asked, her eyes wide.
“Krat,” Jas said. “I was forgetting you didn’t know. I’m not supposed to tell the crew, but yeah, this next engagement is the final push. We’ve got them on the run, Sayen. We’re almost there. The remaining Shadow force is confined to one small sector of the galaxy. We’ve wiped them out everywhere else, and if we can defeat their last ships now, the war’s over for them. We’ll have to do some mopping up, but that’ll basically be it. Every Unity Alliance ship in service is being deployed. The Camaradon’s leading the fight.”
Jas’ comm bleeped. It was Pacheco. “Commander Harrington, prepare to starjump at thirteen hundred and fifty.”
“Affirmative, Admiral,” Jas replied. They had a little under half an hour. As always before an engagement with the enemy, Jas’ heart began to race, but it had already been beating fast while she’d been talking to Sayen, and not only because she was excited to see her old friend again.
“Have you been back to Earth?” she asked.
“Yes, the ship I was serving aboard was involved in the fight to free it.”
“Lucky you. How’s Phelan?” asked Jas, skirting around the question she was burning but also fearing to ask.
“He’s okay,” Sayen replied. “Busy finding the remaining few Shadows on Earth. It’s hard to keep track of what’s happening when no comms are allowed. I hate having no contact with him.”
“And Erielle?”
Sayen heaved a deep, sad sigh. “Erielle died not long after she returned to Earth with Makey.”
“Oh krat, Sayen. I’m so sorry.”
“Thanks. She died not long after she got back. It was Shadows among her underworlders. An inside job, not an open fight.” Sayen’s shoulders were sagging, but she straightened up as she added, “But Makey’s doing well. He survived the fight for the control of Earth, and now he heads some kind of underworlders’ council, negotiating for the rights of naturals.”
“That’s good to hear,” Jas said. “Good for him. He was always a special kid.”
“Yeah, he was.”
After a slight pause, Jas finally found the courage to ask about their other mutual friend, but as she spoke, so did Sayen.
“Have you seen—” Jas asked at the same time that Sayen also asked,
“Do you know what—”
They both stopped speaking. Jas realized what Sayen’s question meant.
“You mean you don’t know what’s happened to Carl?” she asked.
Sayen shook her head. “I haven’t seen him since Ganymede Outpost. Have you?”
“No,” Jas replied. “Not once.”
“Jas, I’m really sorry.”
Jas swallowed. “I guess that’s it, then. He couldn’t have survived all this time.”
Sayen touched her arm. “You don’t know that. Have you searched the personnel records?”
“I only have access to the records of people serving under me. You know what security in the Unity is like. It was airtight at the beginning of the Shadow War and then it got tighter.” She sighed. “It doesn’t matter anyway. He’s gone, Sayen. He has to be dead.”
“Don’t give up hope. Not while there’s still a chance.”
“He’s a pilot, Sayen. Do you know of a pilot who’s been around since the beginning of the war? What are the chances that he’s still alive?”
Sayen looked down and gave a slight shake of her head. “I don’t know what to say. I can’t believe it. I thought you’d tell me that you’d seen him.”
“And I guess you were my last hope.” Jas continued to herself, “Pacheco was right.”
“What do you mean?” Sayen asked.
“Just something the admiral said.” She heaved a large sigh. “We don’t have long before we jump. Let’s go back to the bridge.”
Chapter Twelve
Admiral Pacheco adjusted the collar of his uniform and placed his arms gently on his arm rests. As he surveyed the officers at their consoles on the bridge of the Camaradon, his body thrummed with tension. He was careful not to let it show, however. During his long career serving with the Unity, he’d learned that a crew took their cue from whoever was in charge—commander, captain, or admiral. If he wanted his women and men to feel confident, confidence was what he had to exude.
Not that he wasn’t confident. Though it had taken five years to get to this point, the Unity Alliance had been successful in slowly gaining ground and destroying their enemy, forcing them into this corner of the galaxy. In the forthcoming battle, the UA had every chance of delivering the final, crushing blow.
He wasn’t tense because he thought they were in danger of losing. It was because he was responsible for the maneuvers of more than sixty starships as they battled the Shadows.
It was the largest number of ships that had been under his command all at once, and it would take every ounce of concentration and skill to do his job. The battleground was vast. He was only one of many peers performing the same role across the sector. In all, the Unity Alliance had amassed more than one thousand starships to fight this final battle.
Save for a few frigates that were busy stamping out flares of Shadow resurgence on distant worlds, the entire Unity fleet was present. But the Unity ships numbered only in the hundreds. The rest of the force was made up of Alliance vessels and crews from across all of galactic civilization. The many and varied alien species from high- and low-g planets, water worlds, ice giants, desert orbs, and the other multitude of homes to sentient life that were scattered across the galaxy, had come together to defeat their common enemy.
It was a coordinated effort that would be remembered for thousands of years to come, providing they won the day. And they would. Pacheco was sure of it.
After the battle, Pacheco planned to leave the service. Too long a career space officer, he was tired of fighting. If only Jas Harrington’s affections didn’t lie with some probably long-dead lover from her past, he pondered. He wasn’t a man to form frivolous connections. His feelings toward the Martian had grown over the years that they’d worked together aboard his first command ship.
Their first encounter had been rocky but, as time went on, he’d learned to appreciate her steady, effective approach to her work as well as her personal integrity. Before long, he’d realized that he was giving her responsibilities much above her rank because he knew with certainty that he could always rely on her.
When career progressions meant that they’d parted ways, he’d soon missed her presence on a professional level and, in the quiet of his bunk at night, he’d realized he also missed her. He wished she could reciprocate his feelings. He wanted to relieve that constant melancholic look she always wore. He wanted to make her happy.
Pacheco shifted in his seat and checked the time. Fifteen minutes before his fleet was scheduled to jump to their designated positions and attack the Shadow ships that were known to be hiding out at certain coordinates. The Camaradon was go
ing to engage with the leading ship. Everything was in place. The battle plan was laid out. All they had to do was follow it. What would happen afterward, Pacheco wasn’t sure. Perhaps he shouldn’t give up hope of winning Jas over just yet.
The doors opened, and Fleet Admiral Tarsa entered the bridge. A Haidiren, she was encased in her water-holding suit, her grass-green head poking from the top into a transparent, globe helmet. Pacheco and his officers stood to attention and saluted.
The alien’s v-shaped lips quivered, which her translator related as, “Admiral Pacheco, I came in person to wish you and your officers good fortune in the forthcoming engagement.”
“Thank you, Fleet Admiral,” Pacheco replied.
“Your planning has been meticulous. We have every chance of success. I am now withdrawing to my private rooms to oversee the battle as a whole. If I have instructions for you, or if you wish to consult me, we will use the ship’s comm.”
“Very good, Fleet Admiral,” said Pacheco.
“Good luck, everyone,” Tarsa said to the bridge generally. “You couldn’t wish for a better leader than Admiral Pacheco here. I leave you in his capable hands.”
As the Fleet Admiral left, his officers returned their attention to their consoles and Pacheco took his seat again. They had ten minutes. He checked with his first officer that he was ready to bring up a holo of the battleground the second that they jumped.
“Yes, Admiral,” came the reply, with a slight hurt tone underlying it.
Pacheco tutted softly over his officer’s response. Some people were over-sensitive. Of course, the man knew his job, and Pacheco hadn’t meant to imply that he didn’t. He tapped his armrests, his fingernails hitting the interface screens. Time seemed to slow down.
Five minutes.
“Prepare to engage jump engines, Pilot,” Pacheco said.
“Yes, Admiral,” came the woman’s reply.
“Power up pulse cannons,” said Pacheco to the weapons officer.
