Uudon rolled his dark eyes. “A brilliant deduction, Commander.”
Shawn’s smile returned. “Just keep as many comments as possible to yourself. I don’t want to let our hand show this early.”
The doctor scowled as he folded his arms tightly across his chest. “Fine, Commander. You will get my complete silence.”
That was when Captain Litto reentered the room. His face was flushed, and Shawn could that there was something going on in his mind.
“Is there a problem, Captain?”
Litto nodded slowly as he sat down. “One of our colonies … a Rugorian settlement, that is … was just attacked.”
“Meltranians?” Melissa asked, although she already knew the answer.
Litto nodded, his eyes distant.
“Where?” Shawn asked.
“Enas-Valak. It is … it was … an agricultural settlement.” The captain then looked at Shawn. “Two thousand of my people are presumed dead. We’ve lost all communication with the planet, and long-range sensor scans show the world to be completely lifeless.”
“I’m sorry.” To tell Litto it wasn’t a surprise that the entire colony was devastated would have done nothing to quell the captain’s sorrow. It was all Shawn could do to offer a pitiful apology.
Litto seemed to regard the statement, as if it had been said in an unknown language. “Such things happen in war, Commander.” He smiled faintly, yet his tone was laced with sorrow. “Now, do we have a course heading?”
%%%
Three hours later, Shawn and Melissa were sitting in the lavish quarters assigned to them on the Honor Guard. Doctor Uudon, having provided the general heading for the transmission relayed from Torval, was in the blockade runner’s cargo hold continuing to analyze the nature of the original signal using some of the equipment he’d brought along in conjunction with the Nautilus’s computer. Making him promise not to get into trouble, Shawn had reluctantly agreed to leave the doctor to his work—but not without a pair of Rugorian security guards posted unobtrusively nearby.
After Litto had relayed the course information to Commodore Savath, the reply he received just two hours later betrayed the nature of the mission they were all undertaking. The Honor Guard would be heading directly into Meltranian-held territory recently taken from the Kafarans. Worse still, the Rugorian vessel would almost certainly be detected and destroyed not long after entering the area.
Savath’s proposed solution was twofold: Litto would first alter his course and head for a nearby Kafaran outpost two parsecs from their current heading. Once there, Commander Kestrel and his companions would disembark and board a Kafaran freighter that could take them deep into enemy territory with less chance of detection. When Litto had voiced his concerns about how the Kafaran vessel would fare any better than the Honor Guard in enemy territory, Savath informed him that it was not his concern, and that “everything will be prepared by the time the Honor Guard reaches the outpost.”
Neither Shawn nor Melissa had taken the news well. Once the Honor Guard dropped them off, there would be no way—save for Kafaran hospitality—for them to get back to Unified space once the mission was complete.
“This mission just keeps getting worse,” Shawn said after Litto had left their quarters.
“You didn’t think it was going to be easy, did you?” Melissa asked from the four-poster bed where she was resting. The ornate furnishing would have looked out of place on board anything but a former privateer.
“I was hoping for it.” He turned to look out the wide window afforded to them. Beyond the confines of the ship was the Griffin Nebula, a spiraling mass of orange and pink cosmic dust and particles encompassing several light-years—not to mention the unofficial border between Unified and Kafaran space in this sector. With the nebula now well behind them, they had already entered Kafaran territory. “Skipping into Kafaran space isn’t my idea of fun.”
“If what Captain Litto says is true, we’re going to be doing a lot more than just skipping.”
Shawn grunted in disapproval. “I’d feel a lot better if we had the fleet behind us instead of a useless nebula. We’re a very small fish in very large and unfriendly pond.” He turned to see Melissa staring at her watch, a look of dismay on her face. “You late for something?”
“What?” she asked in surprise, then realized what she had been doing. “Just counting down the minutes.”
“Until we get to the Kafaran outpost?”
She rolled her eyes. “Doesn’t the passage of time mean anything to you?”
“Depends on what I’m doing at that moment, I suppose.”
She held her watch up, which was when Shawn noticed that it had been set up as a timer.
“Eighteen hours, thirty-seven minutes until your discharge gets automatically updated in the Unified computers,” she said as she turned the device back toward her own eyes.
“Oh, that,” he said with a cocked smile, and took a seat on the bed beside her. “I guess I haven’t been keeping track of the time as well as you’ve been.”
“It doesn’t bother you at all?” she asked.
“We’re knee-deep in Kafaran space, with every intention of flying right into Meltranian territory. I guess you could say I’ve had other things on my mind.”
Melissa took a deep breath, then turned her eyes to the dark ceiling above. “What are you going to do about it?”
Likewise, Shawn looked at their surroundings. “I don’t see that I can do anything about it right now.”
“So, if you lose your commission while we’re away from the fleet, do you think …” Her words trailed off, time enough for Shawn to pick up the meaning.
“You’re wondering that, if we do make it back, will I ask to get reinstated?”
“Yes.”
Pivoting, Shawn slipped onto the bed beside her. Without hesitation, Melissa scooted over, then draped her arm over his chest when he was comfortable. He leaned down to kiss the top of her head. “If you’re thinking I’m going to leave you alone out here, you’re sorely mistaken.”
“The thought had crossed my mind.”
“There’s no guarantee they’ll take me back, you know,” he said after a quiet moment. “If you recall, Fleet Admiral Hansen isn’t all that pleased with me.”
She sighed, her breathing becoming shallow as she began to fall asleep. “I guess we’ll cross that jump gate when we get to it.” Her embrace became tighter, then slackened. “I just want you to know, Commander or no Commander, I’ve no intention of letting you out of my sight. You’ve become quite the good luck charm.”
“And yet you say that knowing exactly where we are and where we’re going,” he grinned, not wanting to disturb her more than necessary.
For a moment he thought she had fallen completely asleep. Then she took a slow breath before speaking. “For what it’s worth … I’m sorry.”
Shawn nodded, then kissed her head lightly. After a moment’s contemplation he wondered just exactly what she was sorry for. Asking her as much, he was greeted by her soft snoring. Letting his head fall back to his pillow, Shawn’s thoughts drifted back to the combined Unified fleet. How was Trent getting along? What was Drake’s condition? Was Raven taking to her new command as well as he’d hoped she would? As he began formulating possible scenarios in his mind to answer those questions, he drifted out of consciousness.
“Commander Kestrel,” the insistent voice said, rousing Shawn from his slumber. Shawn’s eyes opened slowly to focus on the uniform of a junior officer standing in the doorway. Melissa, still sound asleep and snoring in diminutive puffs, had turned her back to him and faced the wall.
“What is it?”
“Captain Litto sent me to retrieve you. We’re approaching the Kafaran outpost, and the captain would like you and Miss Graves to accompany him on the bridge.”
Ten minutes later, refreshed and mostly awake, Shawn and Melissa approached the double doors leading into the ship’s control compartment. Armed guards posted on either sid
e of the door gave no notice as Shawn and Melissa approached. It wasn’t until Shawn was within a few feet that the guard on the left turned, entered a security code, and allowed the two passengers entrance to the bridge. What Shawn saw out the forward view port was almost beyond definition. Stepping between the bridge stations on either side of the small compartment, Shawn joined Litto as the two stared out at what lay beyond.
The Kafaran outpost, as far as Shawn was concerned, was anything but. It was composed of a series of small asteroid-shaped structures, each equal in size to a pair of Unified cruisers strapped side by side or greater. They were connected to one another by tubes and support beams in a loose ring configuration, and further connected to an even larger structure at the center of the cluster. Atop the half-mile-wide metal boulder were communications spires, and outgrowths that bristled with pinpoints of light that were likely windows. In the center was a wide mouth, large enough to swallow several warships—likely a pressurized bay.
Affixed to the center structure, jutting toward the Honor Guard, was a vast L-shaped docking facility. There were ten small bays, with two large ones on either endpoint of the L. The smaller bays were filled with cruisers and frigates, while the larger two were filled with Kafaran battle wagons—each packing enough firepower to level a small city. Orbiting the entire station was an additional twenty or so similar vessels and, beyond them, what looked like a collection of shipbuilding facilities, each filled to capacity. Buzzing like flies around the entire collection were shuttles and cargo ships of nearly every size.
This was no small outpost—this was a battle station.
“I certainly hope we’re at the wrong place,” Shawn said as he continued to take in the sight before him.
Beside him, Litto chuckled. “No, Commander. This is precisely where we’re supposed to be.”
Melissa walked up beside Shawn. “And we’re going in there?”
“If you think that’s exciting,” Litto began as he nodded toward the station, “you should have been up on the bridge an hour ago.”
Shawn pointed at the battle station as they approached the mouth-like opening. “That’s not exciting enough for you?”
Litto harrumphed. “We were stopped by a Kafaran patrol ship. After a few tense moments of negotiations, they threatened to board us and take everyone prisoner.”
“Not very successful negotiations,” Melissa chided.
“On the contrary, Agent Graves. I managed to talk them out of blowing us from the sector completely. I’d say that qualifies as a success.”
“So much for Savath’s assurance that we’d be unmolested,” Shawn quipped.
“Indeed, it seemed that way at the time,” Litto said as he continued to examine the station outside with utter fascination. “I sent the patrol ship a coded communication packet supplied to us by Commodore Savath himself, which was provided for just such unforeseen encounters. Within a few moments of the Kafarans receiving the packet, we were allowed to continue on our journey.”
“What was in the packet?” Melissa asked.
Litto shrugged. “I have no idea. It was a locked file. Any attempt to decipher it beforehand would have alerted the patrol ship.”
Melissa nodded. “Then it’s fortunate that you left well enough alone.”
“Quite right, Miss Graves.”
As the Honor Guard came closer to the station, the ship’s communication officer spoke up from his console. “Captain Litto, message coming in from the station. They’re requesting our authorization documentation … if I read the translation correctly.”
Litto reached into the folds of his uniform and withdrew a transparent blue memory storage module and handed it to the young man. “Send this over as our reply; nothing else.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Another present from Savath?” Shawn asked the captain.
“Either himself or Colonel Tausan. I wasn’t given to a conclusion either way.”
Two minutes of silence later, the communications officer again spoke up. “We’ve been given clearance to land in bay two, Captain.”
Litto took a long look at the station before turning to his sensor officer. “Do you have any idea where that might be?”
“Based on the diagrams provided by Commodore Savath, I’d say it was the third one from the right, just inside the … well, inside the mouth.”
“An educated guess, Lieutenant?”
The young woman pursed her lips. “It’s the only bay unoccupied that’s also large enough to hold our ship.”
Litto nodded his approval. “Very well. Navigation, make for that port, but tread slowly. If we’re wrong, I don’t want to alarm them.”
“Yes, sir.”
The communications officer spoke up once more. “Additional information coming in from the station, Captain.”
“Go ahead.”
The lieutenant looked down to the computer screen and read the translation as it was presented to him. “Once docked, you are to … immediately proceed on foot to bay six. You are authorized to be armed, but all weapons must be secured on your bones … bodies,” he corrected. “Sorry, sir. The computer’s a little slow on the translation.”
“It’s probably as nervous as we are,” Shawn muttered.
“Do not acknowledge the transmission,” Litto said calmly.
“Why not?” Melissa asked. “Won’t they become suspicious?”
“Their transmission is an order, Miss Graves, not a request. They do not require our acknowledgment of it. If, for whatever reason, we do not heed it, they’ll simply kill us on the spot the moment we depart the ship.”
“Comforting,” she said dryly. “And I thought we were all friends out here.”
“Perhaps on the front lines, we are,” Litto said with a tinge of sorrow. “But out here … old fires still burn very bright.”
As the ship entered the approved bay, the large exterior door behind the Honor Guard slid into place with a groan. Once the bay was pressurized for Kafaran normal atmosphere, Shawn and the rest departed the ship. On Doctor Uudon’s instance, Melissa had reactivated his droid before leaving the ship. With Litto in the lead, the team had to communicate through filtered oxygen masks—necessary in order to function in the heavier, oxygen-rich air.
“What’s the deal with your robot?” Shawn asked as he shot a glance in the direction of the gawky android.
“M-9 is an Augustine Industries maintenance model automaton,” the doctor said with obvious pride. Looking at the dented and rusted bot, Shawn had no idea what there was could be so lofty about it. “He’s been converted to act as my assistant.”
“Who did the conversion?” Melissa asked.
“When you want something done, Agent Graves, it’s been my experience that it’s something best done yourself.”
“You have experience in robotics?”
For the first time, Uudon seemed unsure of his answer. “I’m capable, Miss Graves. That is all that was required.”
Melissa and Shawn shared a concerned glance. Droids in general were complicated machines. Out of the box, they usually worked flawlessly. When tinkered with by untrained hands, the results could be both disastrous and deadly. The doctor’s explanation did much to reinforce why M-9 had been described by the barkeep on Torval as being clumsy.
“You also said it was your ‘protector,’” Shawn said. “What does that mean?”
“M-9 makes sure that nothing happens to me.”
“Like a bodyguard?” Melissa asked.
“In a manner of speaking. However, I’m still in the process of programming that particular skillset. It’s not yet … perfected.”
“Still think it was okay to bring the droid along?” Shawn asked Melissa under his breath.
“There wasn’t much of a choice. I didn’t want this thing left on the Honor Guard out of sight. If the doctor has any malicious intent, he’ll likely use the droid for it. I’d hate to see Litto or anyone on the ship harmed.”
“But you’re perfectly
safe with one of us being harmed, is that it?”
“I’ll keep an eye on the droid,” she said sternly. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Don’t worry?” Shawn repeated as he scanned the inside of the Kafaran station. “Easy for you to say.”
The interior was no less fantastic than the outside, and from the balcony they now found themselves, Shawn surveyed the surroundings with awe. The station was hollowed, and every square inch of space seeming to be dedicated to a specific function. There were weapons everywhere, packed in crates and stacked a hundred feet high. Several sections had been dedicated to mobile accelerator cannons and fusion blasters, while other whole bays had been sanctioned off for squads of Kafaran hover tanks and light artillery equipment.
Hundreds, possible thousands of Kafaran warriors were present. Some were lined up evenly in battalions of a hundred, while dozens of others were boarding large assault carriers. Occasionally, the voice of a Kafaran would boom through the bay on unseen speakers, giving some piece of information that was likely valuable to someone. Shawn only hoped that he would be provided a translation computer at some point. As far as he knew, Melissa was the only one present who was remotely fluent in the clicks, beeps, and chirps of the Kafaran tongue, and she wasn’t currently repeating any of it.
Turning to her, he decided to ask. “Are you getting any of this?”
She nodded as her eyes continued to scan. “It’s an invasion force,” she replied in a whisper, then realized that everyone wearing masks could hear her. No secrets … for now.
“I pretty much had that much figured out.”
There was another round of clicks and chirps from the PA system, then it fell silent.
“It sounds like they’re intent on retaking a world that was captured,” she said.
“There are several in the adjacent quadrants,” Litto said as he motioned them to follow him across a gantry way toward on open door. “I took the liberty of downloading everything from Commodore Savath and Colonel Tausan onto this.” His hand slipped behind him, and Melissa was quick to retrieve a red memory card. “It has charts of all the nearby systems, as well the registries of the warships who frequently patrol them. It also contains copies of all transmissions between myself and the Unified fleet. I’m not sure how useful any of it will be to you, but it may come in handy.”
Dark Space Page 21
