“Loud and clear, sir,” Adams spoke up for the bridge crew. Most had never heard the usually even-tempered Pettigrew speak with such intensity. Knox’s stance stiffened, but if Pettigrew expected him to shy away, it wasn’t happening.
“Sir, as your XO, it’s my duty to point out options.”
Pettigrew reeled in his emotions. “You’re correct, Commander, and for the record, what is your recommendation?”
Knox drew in a breath. “Sir, with respect, I believe that the best course of action actually would be to return to Rusalka. Take all the data we have on the enemy back with us and let Central Command formulate a new plan. They had no way of knowing we’d need more ships to deal with that—thing out there. We have to withdraw from the system before we lose the entire task force.”
The captain’s eyes bore into Parker Knox for a few seconds, seconds that probably seemed like hours to the XO and the bridge crew. “Your recommendation is duly noted. You may return to your station, Mr. Knox,” said Pettigrew in an icy tone. “Ms. Adams, crunch every piece of data we have on that big ship and find me a weakness. What’s our ETA to the rally point?”
“We’ll be there in nine minutes, sir.”
“Is the enemy ship in pursuit of the fleet?”
“No, sir, they’ve edged a little further out from Earth orbit, but they’re not chasing our ships.”
“Very well,” responded Pettigrew. “Ms. Nyondo, continue on course to the rally coordinates.”
“Belay that order.”
All eyes turned toward Parker Knox. He had taken a few steps back toward his station, stopped and turned around. Pettigrew saw a dangerous resolve on Knox’s face and blamed himself for what he feared was about to happen.
“Everybody, may I have your attention!”
“Don’t,” said Pettigrew under his breath. He saw Commander Adams starting to rise from her chair, but used eye contact and a subtle hand gesture to coax her back down into her seat. Adams and her captain had always worked well together on an intuitive level and she understood what he was silently saying. Let me handle this…
The entire bridge crew focused on the executive officer. “Everyone, it’s clear to me that the Captain is about to order what remains of this fleet into a hopeless battle, one that can only result in the death of every person in Task Force Nineteen. Such an order would be irrational and irresponsible, to the point of making him unfit for command.”
“Park, listen to me,” said Pettigrew. “Don’t do this. Once you say those next words, it can’t be undone. Stop and think.”
“I have been thinking, Captain. I’ve been thinking about our survival. You don’t have enough tricks in your bag to win this time, and I’m not going to let you kill everyone on board. Captain Pettigrew, per article ten, section fourteen of the Union Military Code, I hereby relieve you of command.”
Pettigrew cringed at the last words. Everybody on the bridge remained perfectly still. If looks could have killed, Adams would have already slain Knox a thousand times.
Knox took the bridge crew’s silence as a sign he was winning. “Sergeant Hiteshaw,” he called out to one of the two Marine sentries on the bridge, “escort Captain Pettigrew off the bridge and confine him to his quarters.”
Hiteshaw and his fellow Marine stepped forward to position themselves at either side of the captain’s chair. For an instant, it flashed through Pettigrew’s mind that the Marines might take Knox’s side. Perhaps he had cut a deal with Lieutenant Cruz or something else equally bizarre.
Sergeant Hiteshaw turned to Pettigrew and addressed him in a grave voice. “Sir, I’m very sorry about this.” Hiteshaw glanced at Knox and then looked back to Pettigrew. “What are your orders, Captain?”
Knox’s proud shoulders slumped. Adams let out a small, imperceptible sigh of relief. Lieutenant Commander Swoboda, who had slowly been edging in Knox’s direction, stepped back toward his station.
Parker Knox pointed at the captain. “He’s been relieved Sergeant. Escort him to his quarters, that’s an order.”
Pettigrew looked into the eyes of his executive officer.
“Commander Knox—you are relieved of all duties and restricted to quarters until further notice. Sergeant Hiteshaw.”
“Sir.”
“Place a guard on the Commander’s door. He is not to leave his quarters.”
“Aye, sir.” The two Marines moved to the XO’s side. “Mr. Knox, if you will please accompany me,” Hiteshaw asked in a polite but firm manner.
Knox was melting before everyone’s eyes. “Please, you all have to believe me,” he bellowed in the strongest voice he could muster. “We need to leave this system, or we’re all going to die.” He started to surge toward Pettigrew, and the Marines grabbed his arms. “Pettigrew, understand what we need to do. Don’t try to be a hero with our lives, please! Don’t let him! Adams! Taylin, convince him—we have to go home. We all have to go home!”
The two Marines wrestled the frenzied Knox into the turbo lift. His whaling could still be heard several seconds after the lift doors slid shut. Pettigrew stood. “Bridge crew—give me your eyes.” The stunned crewmembers shifted their attention to the CO.
“What Mr. Knox said, that we may all lose our lives if we continue this fight, is absolutely true. The enemy vessel is obviously formidable, and much of the task force has already been destroyed. However, what Mr. Knox underestimates is the will, skill, and courage of this crew and of the other crews that remain with us.
“As for the Commander himself, I still believe him to be a good man. We all have weaknesses that show themselves from time to time, and sometimes we can’t control them when they rise up against us. The best way we can help Mr. Knox, and ourselves, is to attend to our duties with maximum effort and believe in each other. Carry on.”
The crew’s attention turned back to their work, and a small amount of chatter began to fill the bridge. Pettigrew beckoned Taylin Adams to his side.
“Commander, I’m naming you acting XO. Before you take your station, who would you recommend to take over tactical?”
“Mr. Swoboda, and have Lieutenant Rojas take over weapons.”
“Order it.” Pettigrew had always thought Adams would be an outstanding second in command, but he hadn’t wanted it to come like this. “XO, update on the fleet, if you please,” Pettigrew said, loud enough to let the entire bridge in on the new chain of command.
“All ships should make Rally Point Beta within fifteen minutes, except for Bocsor. She’s heavily damaged and just limping along. Honestly, from her incoming status report, if she sorties again, I don’t think she’ll last two minutes.”
“Order Bocsor to rendezvous with the tankers at Jupiter. Mr. Swoboda, what about the enemy vessel?”
“She’s station-keeping, about forty-two thousand klicks from Earth,” the Lieutenant Commander reported, sneaking a peek at his console to verify the figures.
“Very good, Commander. Ms. Adams, what’s happening out near Saturn with our Gerrhan friends?”
There was a pause as Adams checked her readings. “Not good, sir. It looks like the enemy is about to finish them off.”
“How many enemy ships still active?”
“Twelve, sir, and these readings are from seventy-five light minutes ago. It’s likely the enemy force has already finished off the Gerrhans and is headed back this way.”
“Even so,” said Pettigrew, “we have time to take on that big ship while she’s alone. At their accelerated speeds, it will still take the enemy fleet something like eight hours to work their way back to Earth.”
David Swoboda swiveled his chair around to face Pettigrew. “I just had a disturbing thought, Captain. What if they double-jump?”
Vessels moved through systems using their ion drives. Using hyperdrive to travel within a star system was considered so dangerous it was never done. ‘Double-jumping’ involved jumping to a point outside a star system and then back in to cover long distances.
“They’d stil
l need a few hours between jumps to build up energy for that second jump,” said Adams.
“That’s if their engines work the way ours do,” Swoboda pointed out.
Pettigrew shook his head, trying to focus on what they needed to do. “We can’t do anything about those other ships right now. I want you two to pour over all the data we have on that big ship near Earth. Right now, that’s our priority. Find me a weakness.”
TF 19 was down to six functioning warships, the crippled destroyer Bocsor, and the two tankers still plodding along toward Jupiter. Evidently, the captain of the enemy titan wasn’t going to initiate an engagement. All the enemy need do was to wait for the rest of their force to return from Saturn and then those ships could finish off what remained of the Union fleet.
Maybe Parker Knox was right. Perhaps it would be a hopeless battle, one that needed to be avoided. If Adams and Swoboda couldn’t find a weakness in the enemy titan and find it soon, Pettigrew could order his ships to make for Jupiter, refuel at the tankers, and get the hell out of Sol. However, it might even be too late for that. The enemy ships were fast and could possibly outrace them to Jupiter. There were also the three crescent-shaped vessels standing watch at the enemy shipyard to consider. With their shield technology, those three warships alone might be able to defeat what was left of his force. Those damn shields. There must be some way around them…
Pettigrew tapped his comm control. “Commander Mullenhoff.”
“Mullenhoff here.”
“Commander, you’re needed on the bridge.”
27: Susan
Bakkoa, Earth
“Don’t worry, my Lord Governor, we’ll find them,” said the green uniformed officer confidently.
“I’m not the one who should be worried, Superintendent,” Sheel snapped.
The governor of Bakkoa climbed into his glidecar limo parked in front of the Security Dome. It was coming up on eight o’clock in the evening and he still hadn’t eaten dinner yet, but hunger wasn’t on his mind.
What had started as a promising day was deteriorating by the hour. The two Sarissan prisoners had been lost, and no one had heard from his police spy, Corporal Kees. Naar’s plan for locating the alien craft had seemingly gone awry. Additionally, Fleetmaster Haldryn had yet to eliminate the enemy force which had intruded upon the Sol star system—his star system.
Sheel turned to the other limousine passenger. “The Superintendent assures me that the missing prisoners and their ship will be found,” the Lord Governor said in his most sarcastic tone, which was considerable. “I am to be comforted by this.”
“I’m sure the Superintendent and his people know what they are doing.”
“If they knew what they were doing, they wouldn’t have lost Carr and the woman in the first place!” Sheel was in a foul mood and didn’t want to hear the false comfort of platitudes. “And speaking of knowing, Goran, just exactly what do you know?”
The Deputy Governor’s face reddened for a split second as Sheel vented his frustrations. “My Lord Governor? I don’t take your meaning.”
Sheel leaned his head back and took a deep breath as the limousine moved toward the Government Compound. “Goran, I am angry and irritated. My apologies for snapping at you.”
“No apologies are necessary, my Lord.”
“Although,” the Governor said in a lighter, almost playful voice, “I often wonder exactly how much you really do know. Goran the Efficient. Goran the Reliable. Goran the Trustworthy. Always on the spot and always prepared. It gives me pause to ask myself exactly how much you actually do know about the things going on around you.” Sheel gave the younger man a predatory smile.
“My Lord Governor, I can assure you that I make it my business to know exactly what I need to—no more and no less.”
Sheel did not reply, but closed his eyes for the remainder of the ride up the hill. In some regard, Goran reminded him of his younger self, which was somewhat troubling. Right now however, he had far more to fear from Fleetmaster Haldryn than from Goran. No, the Deputy Governor was the least of his problems. Nevertheless, I won’t be asking him to pour me a glass of wine anytime in the near future…
* * * *
“This will relieve some of her pain,” said Vesna as the injector forced medicine into Mumphrey’s blood system. Korab’s wife withdrew the instrument and used a washcloth to pat the moisture off the wounded woman’s forehead. “Keep pressure on the wound. I’ll get some more clean towels and check about the doctor.”
Blood continued to ooze from the hole Sandu had put in Mumphrey’s shoulder. The older woman was losing the red fluid at an alarming rate. She had been taken to a bedroom where Vesna and Sanchez had done what they could, applying wound sealant and bandaging from a medical kit. It had slowed, but not stopped the flow. Sanchez knelt next to her holding a towel to the wound, a towel that was gradually turning red like all the others before it.
“Hang in there, Inspector,” said Sanchez, trying to talk about anything to keep the older woman calm and still. “Korab will have a doctor here shortly.”
Mumphrey smiled, but just barely, as the color slowly drained from her face.
Sanchez continued to force conversation. “This is all Carr’s fault. He should have known to tell Korab about your discovery in private, that the traitor could have been standing right in front of us. I have to say though, I didn’t figure on Sandu. My money was on Voss.”
“Voss isn’t what he seems,” said Mumphrey. “All bark and no bite. And don’t be too hard on Carr, he has his own problems.”
Sanchez muttered unhappily. “He’s had his head up his ass this entire mission, like he can’t concentrate. Something’s going on, but I can’t get him to talk about it.”
Mumphrey started to cough and Sanchez quickly used her free hand to give the woman some water from a drinking glass on the night table.
“Thank you,” said the Inspector, as Sanchez withdrew the glass from her lips. “Back on Sarissa, I discovered that Carr is dealing with some serious personal issues.”
“I knew something was up. Gambling debts? Being pursued by a jealous husband, something like that?” asked Sanchez, only partly joking.
“I’m afraid it’s much worse,” said Mumphrey in a low voice. “His wife is dying.”
Sanchez stared at Mumphrey as if she hadn’t heard her correctly. “His wife? He’s married?” The commander remembered back to the first day she met Carr and Director Tolbert asking him about someone named Shannon. “I’m so sorry to hear that. What’s wrong with her? And why would he come on a long mission like this if his wife was ill?”
Mumphrey grimaced in pain as Sanchez switched out the blood-soaked towel for a clean one. “The way I understand it, she was with a terraforming crew on Uritski and she contracted some illness—my sources were sketchy on the details. Anyway, now she’s in a private hospital getting long-term care, but that’s expensive. You OMI types earn considerably more money than us poor civil servants in State Security, especially when you do field work.” Mumphrey tried to laugh, but winced instead. “He needs the money to pay her medical bills. Etta, could I have another blanket, dear? It’s getting so cold.”
* * * *
The stocky man sat cross-legged on the floor, elbows on knees with his face buried in his hands. If he noticed Carr entering the processing plant garage, he didn’t let on. Korab had returned to the place where his brother’s treachery had been uncovered, trying to sort through it all.
The leader of the Underground lifted his head. “How’s Voss?”
“Better,” replied Carr, who sat down on the floor beside his host. “The charge hit flesh, but no bone. I cleaned up the wound and bandaged him. He’ll be hobbling for a while, but all in all, he got off lucky.”
“And Mumphrey?”
“Not so lucky. They can’t stop the bleeding.”
Korab ran a hand through his curly hair. “I got in touch with Denlora. She and her crew are comin’ here. She’ll fetch a doctor as soon as
she can, but with the police out in full force lookin’ for you, it could take time. They’ll have to move carefully.”
“I know.” Carr sat quietly for a moment. “What did you do with your brother?”
The Bakkoan grunted. “Not my brother—not no longer. Looks like he never was. I locked him in the cooler with that Kees fellow. They won’t freeze, but they’ll both be damned uncomfortable.”
“What will happen to him?”
“If he and Lornec had blown up the Government Compound, my family and me and everyone else in the Underground would have been rounded up and executed. He’d have seen us all dead for a bag of money. He’d have killed my wife and my children—my children, Carr!” Korab pounded his fist to the floor. “When the others find out, they’ll demand he be executed as a traitor. I couldn’t protect him now if I wanted to, and I don’t!”
Carr looked straight ahead. He sympathized with Korab, but time was slipping by. Somehow, he and Sanchez had to get back to Kite and get into space—tonight.
“What about Lornec? Will he run to the authorities?”
Korab snorted a laugh. “Not likely. They’d probably kill him for botchin’ the job. He’s got a cousin who runs a farm outside the settlement. I figure he’s hightailed it there to hide.”
The two men stood up. “Before I was a butcher, I was an ordinance man in the military for a spell. I checked out that bomb you and Mumphrey found—very nasty. That thing could take out a whole city block, and then some.”
Carr’s eyes narrowed in thought. “Any danger that Haldryn’s people could set it off remotely?”
“Not right now, I disabled it. ‘Course, you can set it off remotely, ‘cause that was their plan for the Government Compound.”
As they walked together out of the garage, Korab stopped. “Look, Carr, my people are all comin’ in now. We’re movin’ to our emergency site to hole up till we see how everything plays out. If you still want to go, Denlora and her squad will get you and Sanchez to your ship tonight. We’ll take Mumphrey with us and try to help her as much as we can, but I have to tell ya’, my first duty right now is to my family’s safety.”
Starhold Page 28
