by J. J. Green
Still, Jas couldn’t help but wonder if somehow the Shadows had slipped in an informant. Not a Shadow, but someone who had gone over to their side, perhaps on the promise that they and theirs would not be harmed.
The golden insectoid alien who was the current head of the Council—Jas had heard that it was an unelected position, conferred by a lottery system among the qualified candidates—addressed the room.
“Fleet admirals, admirals, captains and commanders of the Unity Alliance, I had hoped to have been greeting you in more joyful circumstances. I had mistakenly predicted that our most recent battle with the Shadows was to have been our last. Sadly, we now know that was a false hope.
“Our intelligence reports were not entirely incorrect, but they left out important information. The Shadows drew us into a trap, resulting in the destruction of our most powerful starship. They removed our key instrument in the fight, and now it would seem that they have the advantage.
“For this reason, I would like to suggest a different tactic, which is to be the subject of this meeting. I would urge you not to spend time regrouping, building new vessels, and so on. This is probably what the Shadows expect us to do. But we have discovered that our former strategy was not effective. We must not pursue old tactics. We must try something new. And for that reason, I and the rest of the Council’s leaders suggest that we must fight back now. We must commit everything that we have remaining at this moment. The longer we wait, the stronger the Shadows will become.”
“But if we attack now,” interrupted a fleet admiral, “what do we attack them with? We have nothing to withstand that monster ship that they have built. I’ve seen the vids of the destruction of the Camaradon. That ray they have is like nothing I’ve ever seen before. Going against it with our current weaponry would be little short of suicide.”
“We have a saying among my kind,” the golden councilor replied. “When you cannot be the strongest, be the smartest.”
“It seems like the Shadows are the ones who have been the smartest so far,” grumbled the fleet admiral.
Jas rested her chin on her hand and watched the councilor through half-lidded eyes. It had something up its sleeve.
“We have carefully studied the reports of Admiral Pacheco and the captains and commanders who were present at the defeat of the Camaradon,” the golden alien went on. “We have detected a theme running between the lines of the reports. In fact, some of the reports overtly stated the observation. The ray that the Shadows used so effectively seemed to draw some of its power from the pulses it encountered. We cannot be sure of this, but if it is true, this fact offers us hope.”
“How? That makes things worse,” said the fleet admiral. “If we’re right about that, it only means we can’t even fire at it without that energy being fired back at us.”
“It would indeed be a hopeless situation if all we were able to do was fire at it,” the golden councilor said. “But let us think laterally, just for a moment.”
Jas had the impression that the Transgalactic Council leader was vastly more intelligent than those assembled around it, and it was simplifying everything while trying not to sound like it was talking down to them.
It went on, “If this Shadow beam can in fact absorb the energy of the pulses it encounters, and then redirect that energy outward, that means the pulse power must be drawn into the Shadow weapon first. And if it takes in pulse energy, what else might it draw in?”
There was a moment of silence while they pondered the councilor’s question. What could the Shadow ship take into its beam that could harm it? Then, Jas realized what the councilor meant.
“A bomb,” she said.
“Precisely,” said the councilor. “If we can disguise a bomb as a pulse, and fire it at the Shadow ship, we could destroy it.”
“What kind of bomb?” the fleet admiral asked. “If it absorbs energy, we can’t increase the power of our pulses.”
“Indeed not,” the councilor said. “But we may be able to disguise an anti-matter bomb in a pulse. A poison pill, so to speak. If the beam absorbs anti-matter, the result would be quite spectacular, I believe.”
“Do you have such a bomb?” the fleet admiral asked.
“No, but our scientists are working on it as we speak. They believe such a thing can be constructed, though it would be very unstable. No matter. For now, we must act as though the bomb will be ready in time for us to use it. We must find the Shadow ship and prepare for an assault.”
The discussion went on for longer than an hour, but Jas sat back and let them argue it out. Some of the UA leaders saw the councilor’s idea as outlandish and unrealistic, and were more in favor of a guerrilla warfare style of resistance, similar to what the Shadows had been doing for the majority of the war. Others agreed with the councilor that a single, final, decisive blow was required as soon as possible. They said that their people would rather die than live in servitude and fear.
But the anti-matter bomb was the better idea, Jas thought, and the majority eventually agreed to it.
As she left the meeting to return to the Thylacine, Pacheco caught up to her.
“I think we made the right decision, don’t you?” he asked.
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“You don’t sound enthusiastic about the idea.”
“I’m not enthusiastic about much these days. This war’s been going on too long.”
“I got the impression you weren’t doing so well,” Pacheco said. “I, er, wanted to thank you for making me see sense the other day. I went to the doctor. That post-battle shock isn’t to be messed with. I didn’t really believe how bad it was until I experienced it.”
When Jas didn’t reply, he went on, “You know, you might benefit from a visit to the doc yourself. It doesn’t hurt to have a checkup. Talk things over, maybe.”
She smiled wryly. “Giving me a taste of my own medicine, Pacheco?”
“Think of it as gentle advice from a concerned friend. I’ve accepted you’re never going to feel about me the same way that I feel about you, Jas. But that doesn’t mean I’ve stopped caring about you.”
For the first time in a long while, Jas was moved. Pacheco’s concern touched her. She stopped and looked into his eyes. “Thanks, but there isn’t anything the doctor or anyone else can do that’s going to make me feel better. It is what it is.”
Pacheco nodded. “Well, I’m going to be around to keep an eye on you anyway. Now that the Camaradon’s gone, I’m to berth aboard the Thylacine.”
Jas’ warmth toward the admiral cooled a little. In spite of what he’d said, she had the impression that he still hadn’t given up hope of something closer between them.
Chapter Twenty
It took the Transgalactic Council only ten days to locate the Shadow’s flagship vessel, but their scientists took over six weeks to develop the anti-matter bomb. The idea for the technology wasn’t new, and they’d already been working on a prototype when the battle had occurred, so they hadn’t had to start from scratch. The greatest challenge, Jas heard, was to envelop the anti-matter in pulse energy for long enough after its manufacture for it to be fired and taken in by the Shadow weapon. Anti-matter was incredibly unstable.
Also, the UA couldn’t simply create the bomb, jump to the Shadow ship’s position, and fire it into the Shadow’s beam. It would have to send a ship that was carrying the bomb-making equipment to attack the Shadow vessel. If the bomb wasn’t fired in time from the ship where it was created, it would explode and destroy the ship. So, to disguise what it was doing and to protect the ship that carried the bomb-making equipment the UA decided to launch a regular attack.
The Thylacine, as an average-sized destroyer of the Unity fleet—and therefore unlikely to attract undue attention from the Shadow ship—drew the short straw. Jas’ ship was to carry the bomb-making equipment and unleash what everyone hoped would be the final blow, destroying the gigantic Shadow ship.
Six weeks of preparation for the upcoming battle hadn’
t improved Jas’ feelings of hopelessness and exhaustion. The only thing that lifted her spirits a little was the news that Sayen had been assigned to the Thylacine for the battle due to the fact that she was one of the best navigators in the fleet.
Jas has been busy attending all the meetings and briefings as well as overseeing a full update of all the Thylacine’s systems and equipment so that the ship was in tiptop shape. She’d also had to deal with a myth problem on the ship that Sayen had told her about. Somewhere along the line as they’d been releasing mythrin-bearing planets from Shadow control, the refined drug had gotten aboard. She’d ordered a thorough search of the ship, and screened every crew member, finding and dismissing several addicts. But even so, the time had seemed to pass slowly.
She was responsible for the Thylacine’s crew and the ship’s operation, Pacheco was responsible for the installation of the bomb-making equipment and the deployment of the bomb. That part of the plan was top secret.
Finally, the day before the battle arrived. Jas watched the officers as they went through their checks. A few supplementary crew members were arriving that evening, and Trimborn was responsible for settling them in.
When everything was completed, Jas left the bridge and returned to her cabin for an early night. As she went through the corridors, the atmosphere aboard the ship was quiet and tense. The anti-matter bomb was a secret, but the crew couldn’t fail to have noticed the new equipment being brought aboard. Jas wondered if they had guessed that the Thylacine was playing a larger-than-usual role in the battle.
Jas changed into her unflattering, Unity-issue pajamas, catching sight of herself in her cabin’s mirror. She turned away from her wan face and tired eyes and climbed into her bunk. She lay down on her back with one arm over her eyes and mentally went through the battle plan for the next day. She’d had so much trouble sleeping lately, she’d gotten into the habit of drinking to relax herself. But it was the night before a battle and she had to remain sober, even though it meant that sleep would be a long time coming.
A while later, as she was finally on the edge of drifting off to sleep, her door chimed. Jas removed her arm from her eyes and squinted at the clock. Who the krat could it be at that hour? Trimborn wouldn’t dare wake her unless it was something serious. Or was it Pacheco? She hoped that pre-battle tension hadn’t rekindled his feelings for her.
She thumbed the door comm. “Who is it?”
“Jas, it’s me,” said a voice. A voice that stopped her heart.
Or was it only that she was tired and on the edge of sleep? She couldn’t believe it was who she thought she’d heard. “Who?” she asked again, a tremble in her voice.
“Jas, open up. I have to talk to you.”
Was her mind playing tricks on her? If so, Jas didn’t want to be seen in her bunk by a crew member. She didn’t give a voice command from where she was, but turned on the cabin’s half-light, got out of bed and padded over to the interface screen that would show her who was outside. She swallowed, and turned on the screen.
At first, she almost didn’t recognize him. He was standing with one hand on the wall next to the door, his head bowed. She couldn’t see his face. His brown curls were gone, replaced by a cropped military cut peppered with strands of gray. He was thinner too. But it was him. It was Carl Lingiari. Her Carl.
As she watched, momentarily too shocked to move, he lifted a hand to press the door’s comm button again, but before he made contact, she opened the door. He looked up. Their gazes met. The sound of her thumping heart rushed through her ears. She couldn’t speak.
Carl had aged more than the five years that had passed since she’d last seen him. Lines were traced on his previously boyish features, but his warm, kind, deep brown eyes were the same.
“Is it okay if I come in?” he asked, looking a little anxious.
Responding automatically, Jas stepped back. Carl came into her cabin and she closed the door. She leaned back on it, catching her breath as if she’d been running.
For a moment, they looked at each other in silence. Jas reached out and touched Carl’s arm. She wanted to reassure herself that he was real. She was still unsure if she was dreaming. He was wearing an old, faded flight suit. The material was worn and soft, and she could feel the lean, hard muscles of his arm beneath it.
“Where have you been?” she whispered. “Where have you been all this time?”
“I’ve been fighting, of course,” he replied. “Flying fighter ships, for years.” He looked down. “Jas, I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry for leaving you like that. When I volunteered, I never thought the war would take so long. I wanted to contact you, but with the ban on personal comms, it was impossible. I didn’t even know you’d joined up until I heard about the commander of the new destroyer, the Thylacine. After that, I kept asking to be assigned to her, but it never happened until—”
She stepped forward and grabbed him into her arms. She held him close, her senses overwhelmed by the solid, physical presence of the person she’d yearned for for years, until that yearning had turned into only a wishful hope, and then only a sad memory, for what had seemed like forever.
He put his arms around her and drew her closer still. “I didn’t know if you still would be glad to see me after I left you,” he said, his breath warm on her neck. “I missed you.”
“I’m not mad at you,” she replied, drinking in his scent and the warmth and strength of his body against hers. “I missed you too.” She closed her eyes and tilted her head backward. He kissed her. Tingles ran through her, down to her fingertips and toes. Once more, her heart raced like she’d been running. Her skin prickled with sweat.
They kissed deeply. Jas felt the muscles of Carl’s back slide under her hands as his lips left hers and descended to her neck. She drew in a breath as she felt their passionate touch and the soft scrape of his stubble. Desire for him overwhelmed her. She reached to the top of his flight suit to unzip it. His hands went under her pajama top and moved up her bare back.
For the next couple of hours, they tried to make up for years of unmet needs and unfulfilled longing before they fell asleep in Jas’ bunk, their limbs entangled.
Chapter Twenty-One
At some point during the night, Jas woke. Elation filled her for a moment, then it was supplanted by fear that the previous evening had been a dream. She moved her hand and encountered a muscled chest. Carl was still beside her, warm and very, very real.
She turned on the cabin’s half-light. Her lover was deeply sleep. One of his hands was tucked between their two bodies, and the other rested on her breast. She hadn’t even noticed. The hand rose and fell with her breathing. Running down his visible arm and the side of his body were long, silvered scars—burn scars. She traced them with a finger.
What had Carl been through in the years they’d been apart? He had always been lean, but now he looked positively gaunt. Barely a trace of fat softened the outline of the muscles in his arms, legs, chest, and stomach. His eyes were underscored with dark circles, and exhaustion lined his features.
What trials had he endured? Jas wondered. How had he survived?
With a slight start, she saw that Carl’s eyes were half open and he was watching her. Not so deeply asleep after all, then.
“Hey,” she murmured.
“Hey.” He shifted position and briefly kissed her lips.
“How’d you get these?” She stroked his scarred arm.
“It looks worse than it was. I got a bit too close to a Shadow ship. Took a hit. But it was okay. My ship’s extinguishers kicked in in time. You’ve got a war wound yourself.” He kissed her ravaged thumb.
“It must have been terrible,” Jas said. “I’ve been so worried about you. I didn’t think you could have survived this long—Oh, krat,” she exclaimed, half sitting up.
“It’s okay,” Carl said. “I’m fine. I just haven’t had a chance to get the scars fixed yet.”
“No, it’s not that,” Jas said. “I forgot about the bat
tle tomorrow. Carl, you can’t go out there.” She couldn’t send him out with the rest of the Thylacine’s pilots to face the Shadows again.
“I have to go, Jas,” Carl said softly. “It’s my job.”
“No, I won’t allow it. Not now that I’ve only just got you back. You’ve done enough. Years and years of flying those fighters and risking your life. I won’t let you do it again.”
He pulled her down onto the bunk and wrapped his arms around her. He spoke into her ear. “Jas, you can’t protect me. It wouldn’t be right. What about the other pilots? You can’t put me before them.”
“No,” Jas said, tortured. “No, it isn’t fair. Why now? Why us? How much more do we have to give?” She gripped him tightly.
He gently eased her hands open, then stroked her hair. “You know, every time I went out to fight, I thought it might be for the last time, and that I’d never see you again. I’d never get a chance to say sorry and make things right between us. But we’ve had this night at least, and maybe we’ll have many more. There’s plenty of people who haven’t been as lucky as us.”
Jas’ earlier happiness had melted away, but fatigue, or maybe hopelessness, sapped her will to fight him. It seemed to be an inevitability that he would fight in the morning. If that was so, she also had something to get off her chest.
“Carl, I wanted to tell you something too. Something that’s important to me for you to know.” She told him what had happened to her when she was at training college in Antarctica, and how her experience had made her hold him at arm’s length years before even though she cared about him. She explained that it was because she cared so much, not because she didn’t care enough.
“I’m sorry you went through that,” Carl said, “but it explains a lot. I wondered why you acted so weird when we were in Antarctica rescuing Sayen.”
“Yeah, I can’t stand going back there. Hey, did you know Sayen’s aboard?” Jas asked. “She’s our navigator. And you remember Toirien MacAdam from the Galathea? She’s here too.”
