by Gun Brooke
“You’re closing fast. Too fast, sir.” Gazer’s voice rose an octave. “You’re going to ram—”
“I’m not. Count down the finger-width as I approach. Work with me. Don’t make me have to go back to the Espies Major and tell your wife and daughter I lost my wingman on the first day.”
“Right, right.” Gazer began the countdown, his voice steadier by the second. “Twenty fingers.”
“Good enough. I’m going to hold here while you unbuckle. Let me know when you’re ready to move.” She couldn’t see Gazer from where she was, slightly above his pit, but she heard grunts as he climbed out of his seat.
“I’m done.” Gazer gasped for air.
“Good. Now climb up the mechanic ladder on my starboard side. When you’re at the top, wrap your arms around the last foothold, and no matter what happens, don’t let go.”
“You’re going to tow me in hanging from your craft, sir?” Gazer sounded shocked.
“Yes. Or would you rather melt to nothing when your magnetar drive explodes?”
“I hear you.” Clearly without any further objections, Gazer began to climb.
Spinner heard his hard-nosed boots hit her hull, the clunking sound ringing out each time he pushed his feet into the indentations meant to make it easier for mechanics and engineers to perform maintenance.
“I’m at the top now, sir.” Gazer sounded even more winded, and the tremors in his voice indicated the level of his fear. Spinner realized when a seasoned man like Gazer sounded like this, the situation was about as dangerous as it could be.
“Got a good, tight grip there, Gazer?” Spinner punched in a command, using her outer sensors to judge the condition of Gazer’s magnetar drive. What she saw made her stomach clench. They had secs rather than minutes to save themselves.
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. Keep it. We have to go now. Do not let go!” She trusted Gazer to do his part as she pulled the rudder toward her and steered a sharp left. Pushing her vessel harder than she remembered ever doing, she heard Gazer yell in her headset. Willing him to not let go, Spinner gave a verbal command for the computer to open communications with the Espies Major’s bridge.
“I’m coming in hot with Gazer hanging on my starboard side. Have medics standing by and keep away from—” A vast, blinding light reflected from the ports of the Espies Major. “Gazer. Shock wave, shock wave!” Spinner’s craft lurched and bucked beneath her, and as they whirled toward their mother ship, she fought to remain on course and reduce speed. She would still not be able to perform her trademark perfect landing, but she wanted desperately not to crush Gazer where he hung—she prayed he still clung to the craft—on the outside.
“Sir. I’m okay, sir.” Gazer’s voice, distorted by the violent tremors of the assault craft, was a miracle.
“Let’s keep it that way.”
“Shuttle bay one is all yours.” Caydoc’s calm voice came through her communication system. “Just get inside. Ensign Umbahr is going to use our inertia modifier to create a cushion of sorts.”
Amazed that Caydoc wasn’t screaming at her, Spinner maneuvered her controls with frantic hands. As they cleared the shuttle-bay opening, she glimpsed the airlock doors close behind her. She had no other way to stop her craft other than to slam the brakes, so she did, hoping Gazer wouldn’t break his neck if he couldn’t hold on anymore. As she was nearly at a halt, she saw a spacesuit clad form hurl past her view screen. Gazer hit the deck and rolled along it for a good fifteen yards before he stopped, slamming into some barrels. He didn’t move.
“No, no, no.” As soon as her vessel quit moving, Spinner unlocked her hatch, unbuckled, and climbed outside. Avoiding any helping hands, she removed her helmet and ran toward the still form surrounded by medical personnel. “Move. Move! I need to see him. I need to—”
“He’s alive, Spinner.” A tall, burly medic glanced up at her with something close to awe in his eyes. “He’s alive, and that’s because of your crazy act out there.”
Spinner stared down at the pale Gazer, whose deep-red hair lay in sweaty ringlets around his head. He was in his mid-thirties, about her age, and no matter how much Caydoc was going to string her up and maybe even temporarily revoke her flight status, Gazer’s wife and child would welcome a shocked and bruised, but very much alive husband and father back into their midst.
“Commander Seclan, report to Admiral Caydoc,” an impersonal female voice said via the comm system.
Tapping her lapel now that she didn’t have her helmet anymore, Spinner confirmed. “Will do. Spinner out.”
She began walking to the lift that would take her to the belly of the ship. Not in a hurry, exactly, Spinner still realized that it would be a grave tactical error to keep the admiral waiting. They were going to spend the foreseeable future on the Espies Major, most likely years. It might be clever to show a little effort, even if she suspected Caydoc and she would argue their way through most of the time.
*
Dael looked up at Spinner from where she sat behind her desk. “I was going to say ‘at ease,’ but I can tell you’re already in a rather relaxed frame of mind.” She raised a deliberate eyebrow at the sight of the brilliant pilot’s casual stance; Spinner’s left hip jutted out and her left hand rested on it, which made her look defiant.
“Sir.” Straightening, but not very quickly, Spinner saluted, but not very smartly.
Debating whether to point this out or not, Dael decided on a less obvious approach. “That was some flying, Commander Seclan.”
Spinner blinked. “Um. Thank you. Sir.” She rocked back and forth on the soles of her boots as she glanced around Dael’s ready room.
Dael followed her glance. Normally, Oconodian ready rooms were sparsely equipped, with a cot, desk, chair, and a miniscule bathroom. On the Espies Major and the other four ships, the ships’ designers had clearly understood how the ready room needed more comfort, as this was an unprecedented deep-space mission. Consequently, the bulkheads were lined with soundproofing dark-blue cloth. A five-seat couch sat under a lit area mimicking a view port, as the admiral’s ready room was located next to the bridge in the belly of the ship. Dael wasn’t much for decorative knickknacks, but she had never served on a ship without the four paintings her mother had created. She could tell the dramatic motifs had caught Spinner’s attention.
“Not only meant as a compliment,” Dael said dryly, returning her focus to the matter at hand. “You could have gotten both of you killed and destroyed invaluable equipment, thus endangering the mission before it has even begun.”
“But I didn’t.” Spinner regarded her confidently.
“Had you ever attempted this maneuver, Commander?”
“No.”
“And yet you found it prudent to attempt such flying in a hot situation?” Not about to let anything but her displeasure show, Dael leaned forward and laced her fingers loosely, resting against her elbows.
“If I had pulled such a stunt during training, I would’ve deserved a reprimand in my permanent record. That would’ve been showing off. Now I did it to save my wingman, who also happens to be a husband and the father of a young child.” Her eyes narrowing, Spinner looked challengingly at Dael. “I would call that destruction of an irreplaceable, invaluable individual.”
Gutsy. Foolishly spoken to a commanding officer, but gutsy nonetheless. Having gone through Spinner’s service record, Dael knew this woman was prone to act on impulse without second-guessing herself. “I see.” Dael stood, her hands still on her desk. “I don’t think it’s a secret you weren’t my first choice as CAG, Commander.”
“I’ve heard as much through the rumor mill, yes.” Spinner smiled faintly, but the tension around her eyes revealed she had not taken kindly to this fact.
“That said, today’s maneuver might just be the first thing to prove me wrong. Unless you get yourself, or someone else, killed.” Dael had to chuckle inwardly at the obvious surprise that flickered across Spinner’s face. As jaded and arr
ogant as the CAG often appeared, she could obviously be startled from behind her façade.
“Hmm. Thank you. I think. And I’ll do my best not to get anyone killed, including myself.” Rocking on her feet again, Spinner peered through her wild curls.
“We’re ready to go to magnetar drive in a few minutes.” Rounding the desk, Dael motioned for Spinner to join her. “I want you to take the helm until we clear our solar system.”
Spinner nodded briskly. “Aye, sir.”
“And as tempting as it must be, no space acrobatics with the Espies Major, Commander.”
Now Spinner’s smile spread to eyes that glittered a dark golden brown. “That I can promise, sir.”
*
The enormous helm console had seemed intimidating the first time Spinner had visited the space dock and toured the ship. Then, she would have been happy to be part of the advance team in any capacity. She had ended up serving as CAG because of one person’s stubbornness and loyalty. Or, put simply, Oconodos’s military secretary had owed her a favor. Spinner would never have called it in, as she’d only been doing her job when she airlifted the secretary and her husband from a stampeding crowd of mutated individuals.
With misguided, but well-meant, attempts to address the gathered people, the secretary had managed to fuel even more animosity. Soon the angry mob had circled the secretary and her husband and some other dignitaries. Their security officers had managed to hold off the crowd while Spinner landed an atmospheric helo with surgical precision. The look of utter relief on the secretary’s face and the way she clutched her husband’s arm so hard he grimaced in pain as Spinner set down clearly demonstrated her fear. The secretary’s husband was even worse off, shouting to Spinner in full panic to take off again, to get them the hell out of there.
“We can’t leave without your security detail, sir,” Spinner said, trying to calm the frantic man.
“They have weapons. Let’s go!” The man was ashen as he fumbled with his harness. “This is your military secretary, damn it!”
“Easy, Grish. Yelling won’t help.” The secretary looked somber as she leaned back against the seat.
“My orders are to get you all out.” Spinner saw the six men and women barely holding off the angry crowd, keeping their weapons raised as they moved in formation toward the helo. Getting ready, Spinner let the helo ease off the ground. She banked to the left a few degrees, which made the secretary and her spouse cry out and cling to their armrests. Looking outside, Spinner grinned. Stirred by the helo’s down force, gravel and dust whirled through the air toward the hostile crowd. One at a time the members of the security detail pulled themselves inside, and when the last one was aboard, Spinner pushed the controls and didn’t wait for the hatch to close before they were airborne.
“Good thinking, sir,” one of the security officers said. “I’ll be coughing up pebbles for the next month or two, but that’s a small price to pay.”
“Yeah, it looked a bit crowded down there.” Spinner glanced back and made sure everyone was strapped in and that her main target, the secretary, wasn’t injured. “You all in one piece? If anyone needs tending to, you’ll find a medical kit under the chairs where you’re sitting.”
“I think we’re all fine.” The secretary, clearly quick to recover, looked her usual strong and together self. “Thank you for your quick reaction, Commander. What you did took great skill.”
“No problem, sir. It’s what I do.”
“Let’s just say I owe you a favor.” The way the secretary held on tight to her husband’s hand showed she was still rattled.
And the secretary had kept her promise. When she learned of Spinner’s desire to be a part of the advance team, she used her influence to make sure Spinner was offered the CAG position on the mother vessel. Spinner knew her credentials didn’t sit well with Caydoc, but the admiral was outvoted. Considering that and the fact that Caydoc seemed to be a complete stickler for protocol and Spinner had risked a lot while rescuing her wingman before they were even fully on their way, she had to concede that Caydoc was being fair.
“Magnetar drive ready to engage.” Spinner turned her head. “This time I’ll have to insist you take your seat, Admiral.” She heard muted gasps from several of the younger ensigns at her audacity.
Caydoc merely smirked and studiously took her seat and strapped herself in with the six-point harness. “Ensign, open a joint channel to our four sister ships.”
The ensign was still wide-eyed but answered smartly. “Go ahead, sir.”
“Admiral Caydoc to Advance Fleet. We’re ready for magnetar drive. What’s your status?”
One after another the four captains reported their readiness to go.
“Excellent. As you know, it will take us a few minutes to calibrate sensors when we go to magnetar. We will start at magnetar two and, when we finish the calibrations, progress to magnetar six until we’ve cleared the solar system completely. After that, if all systems are functioning and performing well, we will increase to magnetar ten and stay there until we launch the first space buoy.”
The captains signed off after acknowledging the admiral’s orders.
“Very well, open a shipwide channel, Ensign.” Caydoc drummed her fingers against the armrests, looking eager. “All hands, all passengers, this is Admiral Caydoc. Locate the closest safe seat and use the harness provided there. We are engaging the magnetar drive shortly. You will hear the countdown in your speaker system. I know you have all trained for this, but this first time I want to remind everyone to make sure our smallest passengers are taken care of first. May the angels of Oconodos spread their wings and shelter us. Caydoc out. ”
Spinner checked her harness and kept her hand hovering over the command console, exhilaration and a rare case of nerves battling inside her. The responsibility was enormous and had to weigh heavily on Caydoc, but it was undeniably also the ultimate adventure.
Several minutes later, Caydoc spoke the words that sent them hurling into space faster than any other Oconodian had ever traveled.
“Commander Seclan, commence.”
Chapter Four
Dael deliberately let her hands rest loosely on her lap as the Espies Major seemed to take a deep breath before she unleashed the powers of the magnetar drive. Faint tremors traveled through the bulkheads and up through the decks, and Dael knew every single individual on the ship felt the enormous power that tossed them headlong into their journey of reconnaissance.
“Magnetar drive steady and we maintain our course,” Spinner said.
“Excellent. Our sister ships?”
“All four have gone to magnetar drive,” Ensign Umbahr reported. “We are well within communication range.”
“Good. Once you’ve received reports from your counterparts aboard the rest of the fleet, give me the short version.”
“Aye, sir.”
Dael stood, knowing she was probably being silly and overprotective, but Nania was old and frail. What if the jump had an unforeseen effect on the elderly? “Commander Weniell, you have the bridge. I’ll be in habitat level one.”
“Aye, sir.” Weniell stepped up to the command chair with an eager look. As he sat down, which, strictly speaking, was bad form as his superior was still on the bridge, he seemed to relish being in the seat of power.
“Oh, by the way,” Dael said, and turned to the helm, “Commander Seclan, go ascertain the condition of your wingman. What is his call sign?”
“Gazer, sir. Thank you.” Spinner looked quite stunned at this sudden request.
They could have ascertained Gazer’s condition via the comm channel to the infirmary, but Dael also realized Spinner was itching to make sure he was all right.
Stepping off the bridge, Dael strode through her vessel, sending her subordinates close to the bulkhead along the corridor. Dael could tell how her presence made her crewmembers square their shoulders, and she thought she detected jerking movements in some of their hands, an instinctive urge to salute. Nobody saluted
aboard the ship unless responding to a specific order or being disciplined by a superior officer.
Finally at her nania’s quarters, she found her grandmother in great shape and quite annoyed.
“Honestly, Dael, you would think I’ve never been aboard a space ship before, the way you’re hovering.” Helden pursed her lips.
“I was worried as you’ve never been subjected to magnetar drive forces before.” Refusing to feel guilty for being protective of Helden, Dael sat down on the love seat next to her nania’s mobility chair. “You look fine though.”
“Why, thank you. It’s comforting to know that this demon drive of yours hasn’t altered my good looks.” Helden tilted her head. “I did listen to the gossip radio before we had to strap in. Who’s this fabulous pilot everybody is buzzing about?” Her dark eyes glittered with keen interest.
“Gossip radio?” Dael frowned. “Oh. You mean the civilian joint comm channel.”
“Yes, yes. So?” Helden waved a frail, blue-veined hand impatiently. “The pilot?”
“I can only surmise that nothing will be confidential within this fleet.” Dael sighed. “One of my pilots—the CAG, in fact—pulled an insane stunt to save her wingman. Actually it was brilliant, but I can’t have the highest-ranking pilot set such a precedent.”
“What the hell are you talking about? She saved her wingman with a daring piece of flying. Surely you can’t fault her for that?” Helden snickered, and Dael knew her grandmother was testing her and goading her at the same time.
“I can, and I did. She was brave, but she also risked her vessel, not to mention her own life, which is a valuable asset as she’s a brilliant pilot.”
“Which is why she could pull off such a maneuver. I understood from the gossip radio that I might look forward to the video broadcast of the event.” Helden virtually rubbed her hands together at the idea.
“Not if I can put a stop to it.” Dael’s mood darkened.
Helden held up her hand and shook her head warningly. “Darling, don’t start the first day like this. You need something to set this mission off—something that bonds people and makes them regard you not only as their intimidating leader, but also as a very real one.”
