Up The Middle (Spineward Sectors: Middleton's Pride Book 2)

by Caleb Wachter

  “What project?” Toto interrupted shortly as his eyes narrowed.

  Fei Long quickly produced a data slate and handed it to the larger great ape. “The details are all there,” he hastened to assure him lamely, silently cursing himself for losing his composure in the face of the mammoth mammal.

  Toto’s eyes flicked down to the slate and he perused its contents for several seconds before fractionally relaxing. “Where you work?” the uplift asked in an only slightly less dangerous tone.

  “In my quarters,” Fei Long replied quickly. “The area is climate-controlled and electrostatically stable; I have already brought all of the tools we will require to complete the scheduled tasks.”

  Toto nodded slowly as he handed back the slate—which looked comically small in his massive, black hands—and asked, “How long?”

  Fei Long took a steadying breath and replied, “I believe I will require his assistance for seven or eight hours daily for no less than three weeks.”

  Toto snorted, and once again his hot breath found its way into Fei Long’s nostrils. The young man didn’t even want to guess how such a smell got inside of a living creature, but he was not about to antagonize the ape man.

  “Good,” Toto said eventually before turning and bellowing a primal roar in the direction of the Pride’s primary shuttle.

  A smaller—though still huge, at least compared to the average human—Sundered came loping around the nose of the shuttle using all four limbs for locomotion. Fei Long silently catalogued the obvious similarities between this younger version and Toto, most notably the lack of the silver stripe running down the younger version’s back—a feature which seemed unique to the family’s patriarch.

  As Toto’s son approached, he reared up onto his legs and assumed an upright posture for the last several steps. He gave Fei Long a short, disinterested look before turning to his father and ‘speaking’ in native Sundered with his father. The communication was clearly more complex than what Fei Long had observed between chimpanzees or gorillas on science vids, but it still sounded very much like it relied on the same guttural, harsh sounds as humanity’s closest natural relatives.

  “You work with him,” Toto said after the brief exchange in their Sundered tongue, and he pointed at Fei Long with a gnarled, outstretched finger.

  The younger uplift barked in protest as he made a dismissive gesture, and Fei Long saw Toto swell as he squared up to his apparently rebellious son.

  “You work with him,” Toto growled, “and you use his words.”

  The younger Sundered began to object, but before a sound could escape his son’s lips Toto reached out and grabbed him by the throat before slamming him unceremoniously onto the deck. The younger uplift struggled—while Fei Long backed several steps away from the conflict—but Toto’s grip was too powerful and he leaned down to bare his patchwork set of vicious teeth in his son’s face. As he did so he bellowed a primal roar that any ape—upright, clothed, and versed in mathematics or not—would recognize as a dire threat.

  Toto’s son looked as though he wanted to continue the struggle, but Fei Long watched as his father squeezed his neck even harder. When Toto raised his free hand menacingly, his son went limp and looked away in an obvious sign of submission.

  Toto held the position for several long, tense, seconds before releasing his son’s neck. He then stood to his full height and turned his back to his son before saying, “He work with you—and use your words.” The latter bit he added with a short look over his shoulder at his son, who had just resumed an upright posture.

  The younger Sundered nodded and gave Fei Long a dark look. “I will,” he agreed in a voice that was considerably more human-sounding than his fathers, but even the younger uplift’s vocalizations were considerably deeper than any human voice Fei Long had heard.

  Uncertain if he had made a wise choice in requesting the uplift’s assistance, Fei Long gestured to the blast doors leading out of the shuttle bay. “If you will follow me,” he said diplomatically as he tentatively led the young ape man from the shuttle bay.

  Chapter XVIII: A Drop-off and a Lead

  “You’re putting us in an escape pod?” Raphael Tremblay asked neutrally. It was clear to Middleton that the Lucky Clover’s former XO had come to terms with his fate, which was fine and well with Middleton. As far as he was concerned, the traitorous Intelligence Officer was getting off light.

  “So this is his plan: to maroon me in some out of the way uninhabited star system,” Bethany said bitterly, with more than a note of haughty entitlement in her voice which Middleton had come to despise among the Royalist elites. “I don’t know why I’m surprised that this mission with the droids was all a farce from the get go. Although why it took you so long to reach a place to drop us off baffles me. Perhaps you hoped that if we were cooped up with only the two of us for company we would kill each other?” the Princess-cadet smiled sweetly. “Sorry to disappoint you.”

  “We aren’t putting you off the ship as castaways,” Middleton growled, silently appreciating the fact that his two ‘guests’ had spent the rest of the trip inside a maintenance locker, “your mission goes forward. We’ll drop you off and leave the system—only after that will the droids risk picking you up.”

  “A likely story; one that even if we are found later will only go to prove the duplicity of the droid tribes and not that of Flat Nose, my oh-so-beloved Montagne cousin,” Bethany said, her voice dripping with scorn.

  “I neither care what you think, nor what you have to say,” Middleton said coldly before handing each of them a data slate, dearly wishing to get this particular objective behind him so he could leave it in the Pride’s wake, “inside this is a copy of everything in our database that might help you on your mission. What little we have is yours and it’s in there—one for each of you.”

  “You can’t—“ Bethany began, but Middleton took a step toward the arrogant young woman as he gave Lu Bu a meaningful look.

  “I have a briefing to conclude with the two of you,” Middleton growled, “and nowhere in my mission brief does it say that you have to retain the ability to speak while that briefing takes place. Are we clear?” he asked, his voice cracking like a whip and having the desired effect on the haughty Royalist.

  She stood in seething silence for several seconds but made no further outbursts as her eyes flicked to Lu Bu, who was now toying with an expanding ball-gag and returning her look with a hungry one of her own.

  “Now,” Middleton continued, proffering a pair of data slates, “here is all the information we have on the Droid Tribe which calls itself ‘United Sentients Assembly.’ It’s mostly technical specifications on some of the units which make up this particular Tribe, but included are some notes garnered from the Fleet’s intel database as well as a few first-hand observations from this ship’s crewmembers who have come in contact with them in the past. I’m guessing you’ll have plenty of time to review the entirety of these slates’ contents while you wait for your pick-up.” Middleton had to fight to keep a smirk from his lips as he contemplated the fact that the escape pod, despite having been fitted with extra atmosphere recyclers and foodstuffs, was little better than a raft drifting in the middle of an ocean. “The pod’s emergency transponders have been set to broadcast on specific frequencies monitored by the United Sentients Assembly’s vessels,” he continued, “and I’d advise you to refrain from modifying those transponders in any way. You’re more likely to attract unwanted attention by sending up a general distress signal than a friendly pick-up.”

  “How do I know this pod isn’t just a coffin?” Bethany bit out acidly.

  Middleton bristled as he allowed the previously suppressed smirk to twist his lips contemptuously. “You don’t,” he retorted, “but on this ship we value the ability to follow orders and adhere to the chain of command.” A quick glance at Tremblay revealed that the Intelligence Officer had apparently tuned out the briefing at some point, which was fine with Middleton, who couldn’t wait to
get the mutinous green creeper off his ship. “Besides,” he added as he handed the two of them their data slates, “if I wanted you dead I certainly wouldn’t waste one of my ship’s escape pods in the effort. There’s a line that runs from the bow to the stern of this ship made of people who would love to get a few minutes alone with either of you if they knew you were aboard—consider yourselves lucky that we were able to keep your presence a secret.”

  Captain Middleton turned to Lu Bu and gave her the signal to assist the traitors-cum-diplomats into the escape pod. Tremblay went quietly, but Bethany began shouting about her lineage while referencing obscure laws regarding the treatment of prisoners, dignitaries, and even formal representatives. Lu Bu took obvious pleasure in lifting her from her feet and shoving her through the escape pod’s hatchway. Bethany tumbled head-over-heels, and just as the hatch closed behind her Middleton saw her come to a stop more or less upside down with her dress falling over her face as she made sounds of outrage.

  “Thank you, Lancer,” Middleton said with a nod to Lu Bu. The look of satisfaction on her face was something he felt he probably should have reprimanded her for, but his hypocrisy went only so far—he absolutely shared her enthusiasm for ridding the Pride of its traitorous passengers. Still, he was the Captain, and he needed to set an example. “Straighten up, Lancer,” he chided, and Lu Bu’s face immediately went blank as she stood to attention.

  “Captain,” she acknowledged as he made his way past her. The escape pod jettisoned only a second after he had rounded the corner and made his way toward the lift which would take him back to the bridge.

  Mr. Fei had seemed rather excited when Middleton had left the bridge, and after weeks of searching, the Pride’s Captain was ready to find another ComStat hub so they could get on with their primary mission.

  “Let’s hear it, Mr. Fei,” Middleton prompted as soon as the door to his ready room had closed.

  “I have located a ComStat hub, Captain,” Fei Long replied with obvious satisfaction.

  “Can we expect any…surprises like last time when we jump in?” Middleton pressed, remembering all too vividly their first jump to a ComStat hub—the Pride had nearly been swallowed by the ‘missing’ neutron star around which the hub had been set in orbit.

  Fei Long shook his head. “I have checked with our Navigator and Sensors team,” he assured the Captain, “and after extensive examination of available information we have concurred that this hub is located in interstellar space. There should be no ‘surprises’ this time,” he said, his voice a mixture of sheepishness and anger—presumably directed at himself for failing to recognize the threat to the ship prior to their last encounter with a ComStat hub.

  “Very well,” Middleton nodded slowly. “Have Navigator Strider plot the jump.”

  Fei Long nodded before hesitating briefly, and the Captain felt his throat tighten. Whenever the Pride’s newest Comm. Officer hesitated like that it did not bode well for the Captain’s peace of mind.

  “Something else?” Middleton asked a bit too tersely.

  “The hub is located in interstellar space…” Fei Long repeated deliberately, and Middleton quickly took the younger man’s meaning. “The Navigator has informed me that we are unlikely to jump to its precise location without a nearby gravity well to use as a target.”

  “How many jumps are we talking about?” Middleton asked as he sat down in his chair, prompting Fei Long to do likewise.

  “Perhaps three or four,” the young man replied quickly. “He cannot say with any degree of certainty.”

  “Fine,” Middleton nodded as he gestured to the door, “help him plot the first jump and let’s get underway as quickly as possible. The sooner we get to that hub, the sooner we can complete our mission. The Fleet needs that asset, Mr. Fei, and they’re counting on us to secure it for them.”

  “Yes, Captain,” Fei Long said, standing quickly from his chair.

  “Send the XO in on your way out,” the Captain said as he opened the Pride’s latest readiness reports on his desk’s built-in data link.

  “Yes, Captain,” the young man repeated before quickly egressing the room. A few moments later, Lieutenant Sarkozi entered the ready room and made her way to the Captain’s desk. Middleton envied the crispness in her stride and the purpose which seemingly radiated from her visage, and for a moment he recalled the time when he was her age.

  “These latest reports indicate progress, XO,” he said, gesturing to the empty seat situated opposite his own. “Our Tracto-an crewmembers are integrating better than we had expected.”

  Sarkozi sat in the chair and nodded. “Discipline remains a significant issue,” she said pointedly as she produced a data slate which Middleton didn’t even need to read in order to know it contained the previous few days’ incident reports—reports he had already examined, “but on the whole they’ve acclimated to life aboard the Pride of Prometheus better than most first-timers.”

  “Take the bad with the good, XO,” Middleton sighed as he reviewed the incidents listed on the slate. There were two additional confrontations described which had taken place just two hours earlier but, thankfully, none of the involved parties had been confined to the brig—or sickbay—so the Captain considered it a sign of progress.

  “I’m not overly concerned with the violence,” Sarkozi said hesitantly as she shifted slightly in her chair, “but the divisiveness I’m hearing about between the Tracto-ans is a cause for concern.”

  “Divisiveness?” Middleton repeated with a cocked eyebrow.

  “Yes sir,” she replied with a nod, “it seems we’ve got two distinct groups of Tracto-ans forming along unexpected lines.”

  “What kind of lines?” the Captain asked, silently calculating the odds of putting down a general uprising among half of the Tracto-an crewmembers—and very much disliking his preliminary results.

  “The first group,” she explained as she produced another slate, “seems to have rallied under Atticus. They’ve been the instigators in over eighty percent of the intra-Tracto-an confrontations, while the other group is composed primarily of those who have received cybernetic implants or other major medical therapies since coming aboard.”

  “Who is the second group led by?” Middleton asked, forcibly relaxing his jaw after it had clamped down in reaction to the news.

  Sarkozi shook her head. “I don’t think they even have a leader,” she said doubtfully. “The groups’ respective numbers are close to even…although the majority of Atticus’ group is assigned to the Lancer contingent, while the other group has mostly found stations in Gunnery, Engineering and Medical.”

  Middleton mulled over the information for several seconds before nodding. “The situation will bear watching,” he said decisively, “and I’ll have Sergeant Gnuko see if he can come up with some activities to redirect this hostility. I’d rather it was released in a controlled environment, and on our terms, than have it boil over in the corridors of the ship.”

  “Agreed, Captain,” Sarkozi replied.

  “What else?” Middleton asked, and they began to analyze their latest section reports.

  “You don’t be knowin’ the first thing about jumpin’ a ship into dark space, do ya, man?” Navigator Strider rebuked in his usual, insufferable tone.

  “I understand the principles at play,” Fei Long assured him in a slightly raised voice as he, Strider, and Sensor Operator Hephaestion huddled around the Navigator’s station.

  “The ‘principles’,” the dark-skinned, former pirate captain scoffed, “there be no guarantee we’ll land anywhere close to the target zone without better data than dis!” He slapped the data slate Fei Long had proffered away as though it was utterly worthless.

  “Navigator Strider—“ Hephaestion began, but the former pirate cut him off.

  “Bah,” Strider snapped under his breath, “give me the blasted thing.” Fei Long handed him the slate, and the former pirate re-examined its contents for several moments before shaking his head. “We
can try the conservative approach,” he sighed after giving Fei Long a withering look.

  “That is fine, Mr. Strider,” Fei Long assured him, “once we make our first jump, Hephaestion and I should be able to provide you with a more refined location.”

  “It would help if I knew what we were jumpin’ toward,” the Navigator muttered as he began to input parameters into his console.

  Fei Long decided to disengage at that point as he and Hephaestion returned to the Sensors station, where they worked to provide the Navigator with as much data as possible prior to their first jump. With any luck they would only need three or four jumps to reach their destination.

  Fei Long was eager to complete his masterpiece.

  Chapter XIX: The Second Command

  “You know the mission, Lu,” Sergeant Gnuko said as the last of Lu Bu’s Recon Team filed into the shuttle, “and after you reach the first access point we should have audio communication for a few minutes. We’ve run through the tactical simulations a dozen times,” he added with a meaningful look, “and there’s no one I’d rather entrust this mission to than you.”

  Lu Bu nodded sharply. “This one will not fail, Sergeant Gnuko,” she said as she felt a thrill of anticipation surge throughout her body.

  Gnuko began to nod but his face contorted into a grimace as his hand went down to his leg. He gritted his teeth and shook his head in irritation, “I’d be leading this mission if power armor was viable, but my leg is still out of commission. I’d just slow the op down.”

  “Understood, Sergeant,” she replied evenly. She knew that losing Homer in the fusion reactor was fundamentally her fault as the leader of the mission, and she was eager to prove she was a better leader than that. And even though it was only a temporary command of the Recon Team, Lu Bu had already begun to think of the unit as her own. Much to her growing surprise, the Recon Team’s members appeared to share her view on the matter—including Kratos.