“Come on, boys and girls. Let’s get back to the air conditioning.”
Some of the marines laughed. Others stopped at the tender’s doors to take one last look around or to wave at the rangers again.
“Good luck, Captain Squires.” Jack held out his hand again.
“I… I have something for you.” Squires rifled through his pockets. “If I can find it, that is. Aha!” He pulled a small envelope out of the breast pocket of his uniform and handed it to Jack.
Jack turned it over in his hands. “Going away present?”
“Just something she would have wanted to give you.”
Jack held Squires’ gaze for a moment, then opened the envelope and pulled out a thin cloth patch. He turned it over and saw—
“Your ranger patch.” His throat tightened.
The shield-shaped patch, showing crossed rifles against a background of mountains and with the word “ranger” in capital letters across the top, was embroidered in subdued shades of black, grey, and olive green. Only a number three, in the sky over the mountains, representing the company’s number, was in red.
“The one on the dress uniforms is nicer,” Squires was saying. “All kinds of colors. But we didn’t have any extra.”
Jack looked up. “Thank you.”
“No, sir, thank you.” Squires saluted.
Jack returned the salute and held out his hand.
“Waiting on you, Commander!” Lieutenant Arnot called out from inside the tender. The first tender was already grumbling back to the Verdun with its cargo aboard.
Squires took Jack’s hand, and they shook again. Then Jack walked over to the tender and stepped inside. Sweet, cool air enveloped him, and the hatch hissed shut. The engine started, and Jack could feel the craft pushing through the water and moving away from land. He turned to look out the window and saw the rangers walking back up the pier and between the warehouses toward the wall of the forest.
“I am not going to miss sweating my balls off there,” one of the marines was saying.
“I’m sure we all agree,” Arnot replied. “We had to smell your raggedy ass.”
The tender filled with laughter.
Jack looked back at the men and women sitting and standing around the cabin. They were smiling, leaning back in their seats, their eyes closed. For many of them, it had been an unbroken string of grueling patrols and harrowing combat ever since the Verdun had been forced to abandon the landing party two months ago. It would be good to have everyone back aboard and safe, if only for a while. Kensington would finally be someone else’s problem. At least Jack knew that Squires and Colonel Weir would do a good job with it.
Jack turned back to the window and raised his hand to wave at Squires, but the rangers had already melted into the forest and were gone.
Kim stepped over the mess of spare parts, tools, power cables, and debris in the corridor as she passed a trio of crewmembers repairing a jagged hole in the bulkhead. The acrid smell of their welding torch and the odor of hot metal choked the air. They looked nervously at her, tried to move some of their equipment out of the way.
“Sorry, Ma’am.”
“You’re fine, Shipman. As you were.” Kim walked on, stretching her aching shoulders as she went. She’d been glued to her seat with casualty reports for… hours, days? She’d completely lost track of time. Kim had made it through quite a number of them before Holsey had asked her to come take her shift on the bridge. Kim had wanted to keep working — indeed, she’d put Holsey on the bridge so that she could make it through as many letters as possible — but something in the commander’s voice had told her to take the request seriously. After cleaning herself up a bit and putting on a fresh uniform jacket, Kim had transmitted the first batch of condolence letters. In a few days, a week at most, they’d reach their destinations.
For those families, nothing would ever be the same. There would be before and after, but at least they’d know.
Kim flattened herself against the wall to let another repair crew pass by, dragging a cart full of metal sheeting behind them. She walked on, then turned into a stairwell and climbed toward the bridge. She enjoyed the motion after being in that damned chair and that blank, empty room for so long. One thing was certain, when they reached the shipyards at Craterton, Kim was going to requisition some furniture for her room and make it a real captain’s office. If she got to keep her job, that is.
Command had been very clear that Kim’s first task would be to face a board of inquiry. The Verdun had found herself in two disastrous situations in a row. First, the encounter with the Frontin at Derek’s Triangle, and now the so-called Battle of Kensington. The ship had been damaged severely, the crew had suffered heavy casualties, and all in the beginning stretch of Kim’s first command of a vessel. Boards of inquiry were common for events like the ones the Verdun’s crew had been through. Captain Knight had endured his share of them. But the tone of the command staff’s message was obvious. They were concerned, to use their own careful language. Very concerned.
Kim supposed she ought to feel nervous, but right now, she had other things to worry about, and too damn much to do. She’d worry about feeling nervous later.
She reached the top of the stairs, returned the salute of the marines on duty in the guardroom, and stepped into the bridge. Isabelle announced the change of command. Everyone was at their stations, including—
“Mr. Wilcox, happy to see you on the bridge again.” Kim smiled.
“All stations reporting ready for translight, ma’am.” Wilcox’s voice was flat, though Kim could see the faintest upward curve at the edges of his mouth.
“Colonel Weir wishes us smooth sailing.” Baudouin looked up and over at Kim. “We’re clear to depart Kensington space, ma’am.”
“Very well.” Kim sat down in her chair, took another look around. “Ms. Urquhart, plot a course for Craterton. Mr. Stetler, best possible speed.”
Urquhart turned around, and Kim almost did a double take at her expression. The normally chipper lieutenant was wearing a frown. Come to think of it, everyone on the bridge was looking at Kim, their faces drawn, tight.
“Ms. Urquhart, is there something—”
“We can’t go to Craterton, Captain.” Holsey interrupted Kim. Kim swiveled around to look at her.
“Why not?”
Holsey’s face was tight, grave. “We received word ten minutes ago that... that Craterton has fallen.”
“What?” Kim stood up, a spike of adrenaline lancing through her.
“The Legion took control of the facility by surprise,” Holsey continued, her tone flat. “We’ve been ordered to Port Souville.”
Souville was in the opposite direction from Craterton, deeper in the Alliance’s interior, one of the nation’s capital planets. If they were being sent there, it must mean that the Alliance was truly in crisis.
Kim felt dazed, sat back down in her chair. “How far has this thing spread? Did they mention that?”
“They said new reports are still rolling in, but a dozen worlds have been confirmed.”
Kim looked at Holsey for a moment, then glanced around the room. All eyes were on her, and she could see the same fear, the same mounting panic in their expressions that she felt.
But now was not the time for that.
“Your orders, ma’am?” Urquhart’s voice was quiet, strained.
“Best speed to Souville. And I want radio discipline. Run silent.” Kim looked at Wilcox, who nodded slightly, as if he had reached the same conclusion, as if he knew what she was about to say.
Kim stood again. “Order all hands to heightened alert. From this point, we will assume we are in enemy territory.”
“Even within the Alliance?”
Kim looked down at Urquhart’s surprised expression.
“Lieutenant, the Alliance is at war — with itself.”
The bridge was silent for a moment before the crew gradually resumed their jobs. Kim sat back in her chair, and looked up at the bri
ght disc of Kensington through the holoports. Despite everything they’d done, despite everyone they’d lost, they hadn’t escaped the most terrifying prospect of all.
Civil war.
Thanks for reading Outpost. I hope you enjoyed this latest adventure of the RAS Verdun. Follow me on Facebook to hear all the latest news about the Line of Battle Series. You can also sign up to my mailing list on my website to keep up to date on all my releases and to take part in special promotions and sweepstakes.
Also by W. P. Brothers
Line of Battle Series
First Command
Outpost
Planet Fall - Coming Fall 2017!
Legion - Coming 2018!
About the Author
W.P. Brothers grew up in Colorful Colorado, where he filled his childhood with made up heroes, villains, and incredible adventures in space, on the sea, and on smoky battlefields. A life-long fan of science fiction, his other passions include military history, fine cooking, competition shooting, and hiking and camping in the beautiful Rocky Mountains.
AuthorWPBrothers
www.wp-brothers.com
Outpost Page 34
