by Finn Gray
Graves tore the weapon free, danced back, and took aim.
“Stay down,” he warned.
Jordan didn’t listen. She wobbled to her feet and charged, hands reaching for his throat.
In the deepest recesses of his subconscious, a voice told Graves he would later regret this, even as a lifetime of fighting instincts guided his hand. He drove the stiletto into Jordan’s heart. The weapon did its job, the jolt of electricity stopping her in her tracks. She stood frozen for a moment, and then fell backward, eyes wide. She fell backward, body twitching.
Graves looked down at the death throes of the woman who had served alongside him so faithfully, had been his lover on occasion, and felt nothing. She was a Memnon and a murderer.
The twitching stopped. Jordan looked up at him, bewilderment painted across her face.
“I don’t know why...” She gasped. And then she was still.
Graves had no time to contemplate her words. If a mutiny was afoot, he needed to deal with it. He hurried out the door, pausing for a moment to retrieve the combination gun and sidearm from the fallen MP, and headed for the bridge.
The dull thrum of Dragonfly’s heavy guns filled his ears and the deck vibrated beneath his feet. Why were they firing? Was the ship under attack from another vessel? The sound of an explosion somewhere above rumbled through the corridor. That settled it. Someone was definitely attacking them. For a moment he wondered why the call to action stations hadn’t gone out.
Idiot! You can’t order the crew to their posts in the middle of an uprising.
He slowed as he neared the bridge. Voices drifted his way.
“You’ll have to open up eventually,” someone said.
“You can’t stay in there forever,” another added.
Silence, followed by a loud banging sound.
They won’t break through the bridge door that way, Graves thought. If they can’t override the lock, they’ll have to blow it, and that would be a risky proposition.
“It’s no good. We’re going to have to force our way in.” Graves recognized the voice as belonging to Hayes, the second in command of Dragonfly’s deck crew.
“Are we sure we can’t hack it?” The second voice was youthful and unfamiliar to Graves. Probably someone who’d joined the crew recently. He couldn’t possibly know everyone aboard a vessel this size, but he tried, and it galled him that he couldn’t identify this traitor in their midst.
“We don’t have time,” Hayes said. “We’re losing the fight. If we don’t take the bridge, it’s over.”
Graves smiled. That was music to his ears.
“I thought we had Lassen on the inside.”
“We did,” Hayes grunted. “I guess he failed.”
Graves grimaced. Lassen was the helmsman and a good man, or so he’d thought. At least he now knew beyond any doubt that the good guys still held the bridge.
“Cut it or blow it?”
“Blow it and hope we don’t do too much damage to the bridge,” Hayes said.
Graves peered around the corner. There was Hayes, still in his coveralls, and another deckhand. The two men were supported by a pair of marines. Four against one.
Dom, this is where you find out if you’ve still got it. He took two deep breaths, pictured the scene in his mind, mentally chose his targets. The marines were the greater threat. They’d have to be neutralized first. The corners of his mouth twitched as he remembered the old fleet axiom about marines. MARINE: Muscles Are Required, Intelligence Non-Essential. Let’s hope they’re slow on the uptake.
He checked his weapon. The combination gun was equipped with a shotgun barrel below the main barrel, but he wasn’t confident in its effectiveness at this distance, not to mention the Marines’ body armor limited his targets. At least they weren’t in full battle suits. He’d save it. Don’t rush your shot, he told himself. Aim is more important than speed.
Dropping low, he took aim and squeezed off a shot. The closest marine went down. The second, however, reacted instantly, faster than Graves would have expected. He rolled to the side and came up shooting. Graves’ second shot missed and he ducked back around the corner, ran back down the corridor, and moved into the shelter of a recessed doorway.
Guess I’m not as good a shot as I remembered. Or maybe I never was.
“Get him!” Hayes shouted.
He listened for approaching footsteps. Whoever was coming was being reckless in the extreme. That was good.
Graves switched his rifle over to shotgun. Up ahead, the marine rounded the corner and Graves took aim. Just a little closer. Don’t see me yet.
As the marine drew near, Graves saw an odd look in the man’s eyes, much like the strange expression in Jordan’s eyes as she attacked him. He remembered her final words.
“I don’t know why...”
Maybe there was something about these Memnons that affected their minds—made them not quite there. It didn’t matter now. He had no choice but to defend his ship. But if Jordan hadn’t known what she was doing... A wave of regret passed over him, but he tuned it out, instead focusing on his target. The man had no idea death lurked mere meters away. Setting his jaw, Graves squeezed the trigger.
The shotgun boomed in the corridor, Graves felt the powerful kick, and the marine flew backward, blood pouring from his ruined face. Graves drew the stiletto he’d taken from Jordan, flicked it on, and thrust it into the fallen man’s unprotected armpit. He didn’t know if it was caution, a need to make absolutely certain he was dead, or pure rage that drove his action, and he didn’t care. The marine’s body lurched at the powerful shock, and then fell very still.
Graves stood, cocked the shotgun, and marched back toward the bridge.
“Stebbins?” Hayes called tentatively.
“Got him,” Graves said. He had no idea if he’d made a fair imitation of Stebbins’ voice, but silence would have been a dead giveaway.
“Good. Come help us plant these charges.” Hayes looked up as Graves rounded the corner. “Commander,” he gasped before the shotgun blew him off his feet.
The last mutineer stood, hands above his head. “Sir, he made me do it, sir.” He gaped as Graves strode forward. “I surrender. You can’t shoot me. I demand a trial.”
“What’s your name?” Graves asked.
“Jeffrey Garcia, sir.”
“Jeffrey Garcia, I find you guilty of mutiny and sentence you to die.” Before Garcia could reply, he thrust the stiletto into the man’s heart. It was an up-close, personal killing. Graves needed it. He craved a release from the rage that filled him. He stared into the man’s eyes until life fled and he slid to the ground.
It hadn’t helped. Rage still poured through him. Turning to the door to the bridge, he pressed his hand to the touchpad. It blinked to life but the door didn’t open. He heard the whine of the comm but no one spoke.
“This is the commander. Let me in.”
“Stand by for retinal scan,” he heard second officer Fisher say.
Grinning wolfishly, Graves waited while the green light played over his left eye. Finally, the door opened and he stepped inside to be greeted by a nervous-looking team.
“Status report,” he said to Fisher.
“Sir, fighting has mostly died down,” she began. “One large contingent of Memnons is still holding out. We’ve driven them back into C Deck.”
“Why are our guns firing? Who’s attacking us? And lose the ‘sir’ for the moment.”
“Some of the Memnons stole Cobras and started attacking us,” Patel, the tactical officer, offered. “Shooting at us with our own birds. I ordered fighters to scramble, but Hunter countermanded my order.”
Graves nodded. “No way to tell the good guys from the bad. Smart man.”
“I should have thought of it myself,” Patel admitted.
“What about the rest of the fleet?”
“Reports are incomplete,” Fisher said, “but based on the information we have, it’s safe to assume mutinies are afoot on all th
e battlecruisers and dreadnoughts. We know for certain they seized control of the Ares and went on a suicide mission. They took out the Atlas and crippled the Cronus.”
“Ares is gone,” Graves said. “That means the admiral is dead. Who’s in charge?”
She shook her head. “No one, Sir. We don’t know who’s still alive. Some of the other ships are silent. Either their communications have been sabotaged or they’ve been taken over by the Memnons.”
“So we don’t know who to fight except for the rebels on our own ship.” Graves clenched his fists. How long had he been itching for a fight, for the chance to do something useful, and now it had come to blows and there was no one to punch. “Any orders from the government?”
Fisher swallowed hard.
“There’s no more government.”
Graves turned a sharp eye on his crewman. “What?”
“We got word that the Empire Twins had been kidnapped. No sooner had we received the news then things went tits-up here. Then we found out that Vatome is gone.”
“What do you mean gone?” Graves thought he knew the answer.
“The emperor and his family hosted some fancy shindig. The whole senate was there, dignitaries from around the world. The Memnons blew it up. Planted a nuke, by the looks of it. Cities all over Hyperion and Thetis are going up in flames.” She paused, took a couple deep breaths. “Sir, even after we regain control of the ship, I don’t know if there will be a world left to fight for.”
Graves saw reason in the man’s words. If half of what he said was true, Aurora might already be lost. He couldn’t change that. He could only control what was within his power.
“One battle at a time, Lieutenant Fisher. One battle at a time.”
Chapter 28
Battlecruiser Osprey
Thetis
“How do we know you are not a Memnon?” Lina said again. She was pleased that she was able to keep both her voice and her weapon steady.
The pilot, Sabre she had called herself, replied immediately. Her voice betrayed no fear or guilt, only scorn. “You don’t.”
“Then why should we go with you?” Lina asked.
“Gods! We don’t have time for this.” Sabre let out a small hiss of impatience. “Because I rescued you. Because I gave you a weapon. Because I killed this guard.” She pointed down at the fallen man for emphasis. “Because I don’t see that you have any choice unless you want to remain locked in that cell.”
“Who sent you?” Lina asked. “How do you know where to find us?”
“I didn’t. I’m here on orders from my commander. The fighting must have broken out as soon as I landed. At first I was just trying to get away from the chaos and figure out what was going on. I ended up here, saw this guy guarding the door. He tried to kill me, but that didn’t work out so well for him. I knew there must be something important behind the door or else he wouldn’t have been keeping watch over it. I opened it and here we are. Now you’re all caught up. Are we leaving or are you shooting me?”
Lina quickly considered her options. They were clear: take a chance on trusting their would-be rescuer, or remain here and see what happened. She chose the former.
“All right, Lieutenant, we’re with you. I hope you don’t regret it.”
“Wise choice.” Sarcasm dripped from Sabre’s words. Lina was unaccustomed to being spoken in this manner by anyone but Val, and it set her teeth on edge. She had a gut feeling she could trust Sabre, but she didn’t have to like the woman.
Sabre let them down the corridor, taking it slow so Lina could keep up. Their captors had given her painkillers, but her ankle still pained her. They could still hear the sounds of fighting, but it was distant, dull. Finally Sabre called a halt.
“The flight deck is just around the corner,” she said. “With any luck, in all the confusion, I’ll be able to steal a shuttle and we can get out of here.”
“Won’t they shoot us down?” Val asked.
“I’m counting on them being distracted by the fight that’s going on aboard the ship. Hopefully a stray shuttle won’t be noticed.”
Lina didn’t like the sound of that but what else could they do? When Sabre started moving again, she followed along, weapon at the ready.
Up ahead, footsteps echoed from around the corner. A familiar voice said, “You might as well kill me. Or are you afraid? Bloody cowards.”
Val’s eyes widened. Simon, she mouthed at Lina, who nodded. So he really wasn’t in league with the kidnappers. That was a small comfort in their current situation.
“That’s Commander Vatcher,” Lina whispered to Sabre.
“All right. Get behind me. Be prepared to fight, but don’t you dare hit me by mistake,” she said softly.
Lina nodded. Throat tight, stomach clenched, she double-checked to make sure the pistol was ready to fire. Deep breaths. Calm. She tried to remember all Carlos had taught her. The memory of the friend pinched the back of her throat. No time for grief. Focus. Make yourself a small target. Steady hands. Aim for the body. Unless they’re wearing armor. Then aim for the largest uncovered part of the target.
She dropped to one knee, pressed her body against the wall, and waited. She’d only ever fired at targets. Could she actually shoot a living person? She might have to if she wanted to survive. She thought about Carlos, let her anger melt her fear. A calm determination flowed through her. She was ready.
Sabre gave her an approving nod, and then turned to peek around the corner. She looked back at Lina and Val, who was hunched down behind her sister. “Two guards.” She held up two fingers for emphasis.
Lina nodded once. She could do this. She would do this. She was capable, wasn’t she?
The question turned out to be academic. Sabre caught the men escorting Simon completely unaware. As they rounded the corner, she put two bullets in the chest of the man in the lead. The second guard had only time enough to cry out in alarm before her next shot pierced his forehead, blowing out the back of his skull and spattering blood and gore against the bulkhead. Lina grimaced at the grisly sight, but did not look away. These men were kidnappers and traitors. They deserved the fate that had befallen them.
Simon, wrists cuffed, gaped at Sabre, his expression unreadable.
“Commander,” she said.
“Lieutenant,” he said, emotionless. “I suppose thanks are in order, unless you represent another faction of the mutineers.”
“Hardly.” Sabre knelt over one of the fallen guards, searching for the chip that would unlock Simon’s bonds.
His gaze drifted past the kneeling pilot and fell on Lina and Val. “Valeria. Thank the gods. We had just received word of your abduction when the chaos started. I never dreamed you were on board my ship.”
Val rushed forward and caught Simon up in a tight embrace.
“If you’ll excuse me, Highness, I’ll unlock the commander.” Val stepped back and Sabre released the cuffs. “It looks like the mutineers planned to lock you up in the same section as the princesses until they took control of the ship.”
“I don’t understand,” Simon said over Val’s head as they held one another close. “Why not kill me if they wanted to take control of my ship?”
“You’re not only a captain; you’re a noble,” Lina said. “That makes you a valuable hostage.”
“Bloody Memnons,” Simon cursed.
“Are they definitely Memnons?” Lina asked.
“Yes. My escort,” he glanced down at the fallen men, “admitted as much.” Simon gazed up at the ceiling, his eyes suddenly distant. “Most of them seem to know what they’re doing, but with a few of them, it’s almost as if they are being controlled by an external force. That’s how it started on the bridge. Systems began to fail, communications went down. My XO suddenly realized our Tactical Officer was doing it all. When the XO confronted him, the man drew his sidearm and shot him. As soon as he’d done it, he let the weapon fall to the floor. I’ve never seen such an empty look in a man’s eyes. He just stared down at h
is own hand as if he didn’t recognize them.”
The expression on Sabre’s face twisted into a grimace. “That’s...strange.”
“I dove for the weapon,” Simon continued, “but a contingent of mutineers arrived, all of them armed.”
“The mutineers have control of the bridge?” Sabre asked.
Simon nodded. The glassy-eyed look evaporated and he stared sharply at Sabre.
“Lieutenant, why are you here? You’re not a part of my crew.”
“I was tasked with delivering a message to you from Commander Graves of the Dragonfly. He didn’t want to send it through standard channels.”
“Did this Commander Graves have some foreknowledge of what was about to happen?” Lina asked. It seemed an odd coincidence that he would send a secret message on the day of a mutiny.
“I have no idea, Highness,” Sabre said, handing an envelope to Simon, who tore it open and read aloud.
“Commander, I have reason to suspect Memnon activity, including sabotage, among my crew. Please advise if you have observed similar on your ship. Send reply via Lieutenant Sabrakami. She can be trusted. Dominic Graves, Commander, battlecruiser Dragonfly.” Simon handed the paper to Lina. “He’s a curt fellow, isn’t he?”
“I wonder if there’s a similar mutiny going on aboard his ship,” Lina asked as she read the note. “We were kidnapped on the same day as the mutiny here broke out. It’s possible there’s a wider conspiracy afoot.”
Simon narrowed his eyes, deep in thought. “I can’t say for certain. Everything happened so fast. We’ll have to regain control of the bridge in order to restore communications with the fleet.”
“One thing we know for certain is this ship isn’t safe for the princesses,” Sabre said.
“I agree. Can you get them out of here?” Simon gently pressed a finger to Val’s lips, stifling her protest. “You must go, beloved. I can’t keep you safe right now.”
