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

by Caleb Wachter

  Middleton had seen footage of a demonstration where one Liberator had punched through shielding equivalent to a Dreadnaught-class battleship’s shields—which had been charged to full power—and delivered its payload through armor plating equivalent to three times that same battleship’s maximum armor thickness.

  “They called the warheads ‘Nova Bombs’,” Garibaldi said, shaking his head and actually shivering as he looked at the weapon from stem to stern, “not exactly original, but not exactly inaccurate either. Now, I can understand this Lynch fellow getting his hands on the torpedoes,” the Chief said, “but I thought I heard somewhere that only five or six of the warheads had ever gone unaccounted for?”

  “Five,” Middleton agreed, “at least that’s the official line, and I guess we can mark one of those off the list, which suggests we’ve got at least half of the active Liberator torpedoes known to exist sitting right in front of us.”

  “There is that,” Garibaldi relented before sighing. “Is there nobody out here we can trust, Tim? Is this really going to just be us against one of the most powerful organizations in the galaxy?”

  Middleton stood and looked his friend in the eye. “We’ve got each other,” he said, “and as far as I’m concerned, that’s enough.”

  Mikey cracked a lopsided grin and Middleton was glad to see his old friend’s jovial personality peek through, even if just for a second. “That’d be why you’re the Captain,” he said, turning his back on the Liberators and prompting Middleton to do likewise, “you always know the right thing to say.”

  Middleton shook his head silently as they walked away, knowing that in his mind nothing could have been farther from the truth.

  Before heading back to the bridge, Middleton decided to stop by Fei Long’s quarters. The young man was presently stationed on the bridge, but Middleton knew that Yide, Toto’s son, had taken to pulling entire duty shifts in the young man’s makeshift workshop.

  He pressed the button beside the door, signaling that he was requesting entry. A moment later the door slid open to reveal Yide, who was smaller than his father but still larger than all but the biggest Tracto-an aboard the Pride of Prometheus.

  “Captain?” Yide asked, his voice markedly higher than his father’s but still well below the range in which Middleton could speak. “I did not expect you.”

  Middleton shook his head, “It’s all right; I was just on my way back to the bridge and thought we should have a talk.”

  Yide nodded hesitantly before gesturing for the captain to enter Fei Long’s quarters. Middleton obliged, looking around only briefly before the door slid shut behind him.

  “You were present when Mr. Fei discovered the…material inside the computer core we removed from the yacht?” Middleton asked, already knowing the answer to be ‘yes’ but curious how the young Sundered would respond.

  Yide nodded, gesturing to the far end of a narrow, metal, bench which had been installed along the bulkhead. “The core is here,” he explained, moving toward the core’s housing.

  Middleton shook his head, “That’s not why I came. The discovery of this…thing presents a series of security issues, as I’m sure you might have surmised.”

  Yide nodded, “I will not speak of it, even to my family.”

  Middleton nodded approvingly. “That’s good,” he said, momentarily at a loss after the young ‘man’ had driven directly to the heart of the matter and settled it in a single breath. “If you don’t mind my asking,” he said, gesturing to the Sundered’s hairy, unmolested scalp, “are you ever going to get implants like your father has?”

  Yide shook his head and snorted loudly, sounding more like a bull than a man as he did so, “The implants must be placed early in life or there are…side effects.”

  “Such as?” Middleton asked, finding himself more curious than he expected to be.

  “My father’s…speech…” he said, gesturing to his mouth as he apparently searched for the proper words. “A normal side effect of the implants is that they interfere with several expressive functions of the brain while leaving cognition almost completely intact. This is part of why he speaks as he does, while I do not speak as he does.”

  “I didn’t know that,” Middleton said with genuine surprise. Then another question came to his mind, “Can you answer a personal question honestly?”

  Yide stiffened, “If you would have me betray my family’s privacy—“

  “No, no, no,” Middleton cut him off, waving a hand dismissively, “I was just curious how you find life aboard this ship. I know there has been some tension among the crew of late.”

  Yide shrugged his massive shoulders. “Things are better now that the gene-mod named Atticus is dead,” he said indifferently. “But even with the…tension, life here is better than any I have ever known—but I cannot speak for my father.”

  “No, of course not,” Middleton agreed. “I won’t even suggest that I could understand what your life was like before, but I can say that I hope it’s been better aboard this ship. You and your family have earned your places here,” Middleton said before giving the uplift a nod and leaving the room.

  “Captain,” Fei Long said tensely, “I…I…” he trailed off, prompting Middleton to turn to him in alarm.

  “What is it?” he asked tightly.

  “I…” Mr. Fei said in awe as a dumbfounded look spread across his face and he gasped, “I did it.”

  “Did what?” Middleton pressed.

  “The ComStat network, Captain…” the young man replied excitedly, prompting every head on the bridge to turn to him with raised eyebrows as he declared triumphantly, “we have access!”

  Hearing him say it seemed to have a profound effect on the bridge crew as each one sat back in their chairs and looked at each other uncertainly. For their captain’s part, he knew it was a significant accomplishment. No, he chided himself, it’s more than that; it’s an unheard of accomplishment…and the only way it will be worth anything is if it stays that way.

  “Confirm that,” Middleton said, realizing as he did that only Fei Long would be able to do so.

  “I have already done so, Captain,” Fei Long replied, his tone subdued but his body language still borderline jubilant. “The network I established on Capital has received and re-transmitted the test message,” he explained. “Also, I am able to retrieve limited data via the planet’s extranet.”

  “And this is happening in real-time?” Middleton asked, for a moment believing it too good to be true.

  “Yes, captain,” Fei Long replied quickly. “The data packets are limited to just a few megabytes of information per transmission—a paltry amount, I know,” he said in open annoyance, “but it is the only way we can be certain that this activity is not discovered.”

  “How is it possible for you to contact Capital?” Sarkozi interjected warily. “Aren’t all ComStat transceivers offline?”

  “Yes, Lieutenant,” Fei Long replied dismissively as he tapped away at his console’s controls, “but Capital’s system—uniquely, as far as I can tell—is set to broadcast short bursts in an effort to re-acquire the ComStat network. I have…how would you say, ‘piggybacked’ my signal to this particular burst,” he said proudly. “It is absolutely impossible for anyone who does not possess my cypher to detect the presence of the data packets.”

  “What about the fleet?” Middleton asked. “Can we send and receive messages to command?”

  Fei Long nodded rapidly, “My program will require some time to propagate that far across the network, Captain, but if my early estimates are correct…we should be able to send and receive—in real-time—to the entirety of Sector 23 by this time tomorrow.”

  Middleton straightened himself in his chair. “Good work, Mr. Fei,” he said, knowing that it was impossible to convey in words precisely how big this particular success would be for the fleet. “First Shift,” he said, standing from his chair and seeing the heads of every bridge crewmember turn in his direction, “as of now, this inf
ormation is classified.” He swept the group with a hard look, “Recent developments have been brought to my attention which require that news of this success be kept from your crewmates for the time being.”

  A few of the crew looked at each other in open confusion, but none spoke up.

  “I assure you,” he continued, “that I will deliver the news to them personally in the coming days, but not yet. Until then, you are all under direct orders not to divulge this information to anyone, or to speak of it—even with each other—when off the bridge. Is that understood?”

  “Yes Captain,” Lieutenant Sarkozi replied promptly, causing the rest of the crew to echo the acknowledgment.

  “Good,” Middleton said before nodding approvingly, “well done, people. This will go down in fleet history as the greatest triumph that nobody knew about.”

  A short chorus of laughter filled the bridge before Sarkozi barked, “Back on task, people.”

  “Mr. Fei, retrieve your drones as quickly as possible. Is there any need for the ship to remain in this system any longer?” Middleton asked.

  “No, Captain,” Fei Long replied confidently. “This hub will act as a relay for its maximum range and we may access it any time we are within said range, and I do not foresee the propagation process failing at this point.”

  “Good. Navigator,” Middleton turned to Mr. Strider, “plot a jump to take us out of this system as previously outlined.”

  “Yes, Captain,” Strider acknowledged.

  The Pride’s captain sat back down in his chair and watched his crew set about their tasks. He knew he needed to make several difficult decisions in the coming day, and he also knew that some of them would be none too popular with the crew.

  But he had a strong sense that if he did not make those decisions, everything they had fought for would have been in vain.

  He simply could not allow that to happen.

  Chapter XLIX: No Going Back

  “Captain,” Fei Long greeted as he entered the captain’s ready room. He had finally completed the stellar cartography analysis and was reporting his findings to Captain Middleton as he had been ordered to do.

  “Mr. Fei,” the captain looked up over a stack of data slates, “you have something?”

  “I do,” Fei Long agreed, carefully placing the data slate he had brought in the captain’s hands, “I have backed up this data but have not yet uploaded it to the ship’s navi-computer.”

  The captain looked at the slate’s contents briefly before shaking his head appreciatively. “You’ve completed the star chart reconstruction,” he concluded.

  “Yes, Captain,” Fei Long replied. “The data was, unfortunately, less illuminating than I had initially anticipated. But I do believe it will help us determine the location of several ComStat hubs far more quickly than our previous methods would have done.”

  Middleton perused the contents of the slate at length before finally coming to the operative section. He sighed shortly and said, “There are over three thousand anomalies listed here, Mr. Fei.”

  “Yes sir,” Fei Long replied, deciding it was best not to correct the captain; there had, in fact, been well over ten thousand total anomalies. But with a little effort he had managed to account for over two thirds of those anomalies by correcting for factors like stellar drift, updates to individual star masses, and other easily-verifiable phenomena.

  The captain shook his head and said, “Update the ship’s navigation computer at once and see if Strider can help you sort through the data. We don’t have time to investigate three thousand anomalies, Mr. Fei.”

  “Of course, sir,” Fei Long acknowledged, fairly certain that he had already done much of what the captain was suggesting. But, again, he thought it best to keep that particular observation to himself.

  The captain hesitated as he looked at the younger man intently for several moments before taking a data slate from his desk and handing it to him. “Mr. Lynch was kind enough to provide us with a record of Rim Fleet ship movements since the Imperial withdrawal,” he explained, and Fei Long began to examine the contents of the slate. “That data is the only copy of its kind, so be careful with it.”

  “Of course, sir,” Fei Long replied perfunctorily while scanning the information. He nodded as he calculated how many entries there were in the entire record, and felt a glimmer of hope that he just might be able to design a program which would cross-check Rim Fleet movements against pirate attacks and merchant routes—

  “Mr. Fei?” Middleton said expectantly.

  “Yes, Captain?” Fei Long replied in confusion, looking up from the slate only to realize that Captain Middleton had actually asked him a question while he had been perusing the data. “Of course, sir,” he said, nodding eagerly as he answered his commander’s query, “I am certain I can incorporate this data in two or three days’ time. From there it is a simple matter of modifying an adaptive program which will cross-check—“

  “How long?” Middleton interrupted.

  Fei Long bit his lip briefly. “Four days,” he replied after considering the matter. “But, Captain, I had another matter I wished to discuss which might delay that particular timetable.”

  “Delay it?” Middleton asked with an arched eyebrow. “Do you have something more important on your plate, mister?”

  “Of course not, Captain,” Fei Long replied hastily. “It is just…since the events in the…” he trailed off, and quickly decided against beating around the proverbial bush any longer. “Ever since Atticus’ death, morale has improved for some, but worsened for others. This would seem to only perpetuate the division of the crew.”

  “An eventuality in which you had no small part, if I recall,” Middleton said tightly.

  “Yes, exactly, Captain,” Fei Long agreed, “which is why I thought it might be prudent to take a few hours to address morale aboard this ship.” He produced a second data slate and handed it to his commanding officer, “I have already discussed the matter with a small group of crewmembers who have agreed to participate—pending your approval, of course.”

  The captain examined the outlined program and the corner of his mouth quirked briefly into a smile as he began to nod. He schooled his features and said, “Did you have a schedule for this particular event?”

  “We thought it would be best to schedule it just before our next jump cycle,” Fei Long answered quickly. “Most of the crew would be able to attend, and it would only cost us approximately two hours—“

  “Permission granted,” Middleton said, affixing his signature to the form and handing it back. “That was good thinking, Mr. Fei, and I’m looking forward to attending. But until then, get to work on that data.”

  “Thank you, Captain,” Fei Long said proudly, standing and bowing before exiting the room and doing as he had been bidden.

  Middleton drew a deep breath as he stood outside Captain Raubach’s cell. The Pride had jumped out of the ComStat hub’s vicinity a day earlier and Middleton had ordered Garibaldi’s people to begin a round of repairs to the heavily damaged warship. They had devised a project schedule which would require three days to complete, and would see the Pride’s heat sinks fully replaced with units that would operate at the rated spec’s, and the engineers would even be able to begin work on the shield grid’s eventual overhaul.

  Nearly all of the crew’s living quarters would be affected by the grid overhaul, which was certain to cause some friction as crewmen and women were forced to abandon their bunks for days and weeks at a time, but the advantage of performing the grid overhaul in this fashion was that it could be carried out even when the Pride was under way.

  The heat sinks and weapon installations, however, required the ship to remain stationary for at least eight hours at a time. So Middleton had decided to get the ship’s power plants and engines back up to maximum first and foremost, and that the rest of the modifications and repairs could take place piecemeal as they made their way across Sector 24.

  If he was ever going to addres
s the issue of Captain Raubach, it was now or never.

  “Sergeant,” he said, and Sergeant Gnuko stepped forward promptly.

  “Sir,” the Lancer Sergeant acknowledged.

  “Are the rest of the Dämmerung’s crew in the mess hall?” he asked, having ordered them transferred earlier that hour. It was the only low-security area of the ship with a large enough view screen for what Middleton was planning—a plan he very much hoped he would not need to implement.

  “They are, sir,” Gnuko replied.

  “Mr. Fei,” Middleton said, having given him his own orders regarding this particular matter earlier in the hour as well, “are your preparations complete?”

  “They are, sir,” the young man replied matter-of-factly.

  “Good,” he said before drawing another breath and saying, “open the cell.”

  The doors slid open and Middleton quickly made eye contact with Captain James Raubach IV.

  “Come with me,” Middleton said without setting foot in the cell, and his adversary slowly rose to his feet and obliged, giving Sergeant Gnuko a disdainful look as he walked past.

  Captain Middleton silently led the enemy commander through the corridors of the ship, and they were followed by a quartet of Lancers including Lu Bu, Sergeant Gnuko, Vali Funar and Traian.

  They arrived at the nearest airlock and he initiated the inner door’s opening cycle. It quickly opened, and Middleton gestured to the compartment as he said, “If you please, Captain Raubach.”