by Mark Iles
* * * *
“You’re late,” Singh grumbled from the camp fireside, turning slices of a large fish over a griddle. “I was beginning to think we’d lost you.”
“You wish. Actually I was thinking of staying out on the beach tonight, but what the hell. I think the beasts out there are getting restless.” Selena tossed her towel onto her cot and looked at him. “What’s that you’re drinking, surely not more of that home-made crap you call wine?”
“It’s good stuff actually, Selena. It’s matured somewhat, try it again. You’ll find it grows on you.”
“I’ve no doubt it does.” She looked about, pointedly, until Singh filled a cup for her from a large clear plastic container lurking in the shadows of the ruined lifeboat, where it had been placed to keep cool. Taking a sip of the foul amber liquid, Selena selected a spot by the fireside and sat down, shuddering. “What flavour’s this one supposed to be?”
“Cherry, we’re fresh out of pear and apple – and colouring, you’ll notice. Okay, so it still needs a little refining.” He chuckled. Singh glanced at her suntan and wondered how she did it. Every time he stretched out on the beach, he ended up burnt terribly — no matter what factor of protector he used. “Actually, Henry says this stuff’s good for us; full of vitamins and so forth.”
“Do you believe everything that thing tells you?” Selena asked, casting a contemptuous look at their small, wheeled silver box-like survival computer; yet knowing that it was practically infallible. “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear that Arthur had been playing with it, before we got zapped.”
“Yeah, well, that wouldn’t surprise me in the slightest, but stop complaining or you’ll hurt Henry’s feelings. He’s only made one little mistake in over nine months. Anyway, you’re well over the trots now. Besides, it’s about time we had a celebration. Do you realise that it’s Christmas next week?”
Selena filled a plate with some of the fish from the griddle and the bowl of local salad next to it. They’d run out of emergency rations a long time ago. “Ha, Santa’s going to have one hell of a job finding us, right out here in the middle of nowhere; and where are we going to put the stockings? By the way, where’s Kes?”
“Taking a bath, in the stream.”
As Selena paid attention to her food and began to eat, carefully picking away the fish bones, Singh got up, stretched noisily, and walked over to refill his beaker. As he returned, he tripped and almost fell over.
“Bugger,” he gasped, sitting up and realising he’d spilt his drink, while Selena laughed uproariously.
“Charming,” Selena chortled. Then she paused and tilted her head to one side, listening. “What the hell’s that?”
“What?” Singh asked, following her gaze and peering blearily up at the heavens.
One of the stars was moving.
“It’s a ship!” Selena yelled, jumping to her feet, the fish spilling from her plate onto the grass. “It’s a ship, Singh; a bloody big...”
“I heard you the first time, Selena,” he cut in. “But is it one of ours, or one of theirs?”
Kes ran into the camp. “Hey, look,” he gasped, pointing skywards.
“We know,” Selena replied, as they raced to grab their weapons and put on their uniforms.
A short while later there was an ear-shattering scream, as the incoming ship flashed overhead; the noise dwindling rapidly as it slowed and circled, looking for a place to land. Then the ship stopped and began to descend a short distance away. Finally the noise of the jets died, to be replaced by an eerie silence.
They looked away from the ship and at each other.
“It’s one of ours,” Selena said, matter-of-factly.
Together they strode into the jungle, towards their visitors.
“Recognise it?” Kes asked, shouldering his weapon.
The others looked at him blankly.
“Your ship recognition is crap,” Kes said with a snort of disgust. “It looks rather like the Magellan to me.”
Chapter Twenty
As they arrived in the clearing, a familiar figure strode briskly down the ship’s gangway towards them. He saluted and said, “Good to see you guys, I was getting worried.”
“Captain Kotes, well this is a pleasant surprise,” Selena returned, saluting and then shaking his hand.
“It’s lieutenant now actually, Commander. I understand that I would have been cashiered and lost my command, if you hadn’t put in a good word for me with the Commodore. I didn’t know you’d done that at the time; and I owe you my thanks.”
Selena returned his smile. “I understood that you did what you felt you had to, and in your shoes I may well have done the same thing; particularly as you didn’t know the full details of what we were up to. But I had to report it, as it could have cost us the war. But now that you know what our mission was, you can appreciate why I was so concerned and what repercussions our failure may have had.”
Kotes nodded silently and led the way into the ship.
They soon found themselves sitting in the Captain’s cabin, luxuriating in Kotes’ rather fine genuine single malt whisky served with ice in crystal glasses. The lieutenant regarded them from the other side of his desk, with what could only be described as a mixture of awe and admiration. Singh leant back and sighed loudly, in appreciation of the comfort and also as a pointed hint that his glass was now empty – it hadn’t lasted long. An attentive steward took the heavy hint and stepped forward to refill it, while Selena sat silently for a moment, contemplating the Lieutenant looking directly back at her.
“So,” she began, “you say that you received our distress message?”
He nodded. “Well, I personally didn’t but someone in the fleet did.”
“And they had a tracer on us from the moment we left the enemy system, even to when we crash landed?”
Again, he nodded.
“Then, after only a mere nine months or so, they finally decide to send you to rescue us?”
Kotes shrugged and remained silent, looking at her as he sipped his drink, the ice clinking softly.
“And the only reason you’ve only done so now is because the shock wave from the supernova that Commander Grundy caused, when he and his team destroyed the enemy’s sun, is fast approaching and will soon destroy this world too?”
Kotes grinned suddenly. “I wouldn’t say that’s the only reason, Ma’am. I’m sure the Admiralty would have gotten around to it eventually. But yes, that’s essentially correct. You have to understand, Commander, that there’s been an awful lot happening, there was the enemy to mop up and the Federation has faced some harsh criticism over the way they handled the war. In particular, their abandoning so many worlds to their fate, when ships were withdrawn to protect the more major and populous worlds. This has led to quite a few groups breaking away and forming new alliances, all based on mutual protection of course. And who can blame them? I don’t think you can really appreciate all the changes that have taken place over the past few months.”
“Nine months, to be exact,” Selena corrected coolly. “So, why don’t you enlighten us further?”
Singh and Kes kept silent, glancing from one to the other, both surprised by the turn the conversation had taken and by Selena’s frosty attitude.
Kotes motioned for the steward to refill their glasses, and then waved him out of the room. After the steward closed the door, the lieutenant began his explanation.
“Following your successful attack on the enemy planet, our fleet immediately went on the offensive. There had been a backup plan running concurrently to yours, which you appear to be aware of. Commander Grundy’s team were also successful in their mission. They flew the second ship directly into the enemy’s sun, resulting in it going nova and destroying the entire system and everything in it.”
“Yes, we know all about that,” Selena replied. “We spoke to them when they started their attack run. I knew Commander Grundy, he was a sergeant during my basic training. It was good to see him agai
n, but a sad end to a fine officer and crew.”
“You spoke to him? We didn’t know that… anyway, the fleet finally received the new weapons and system upgrades, and as the bugs began to starve, they sort of gave up. We gave them one hell of a pasting, but lost a lot of ships doing so, and it’s been slow going rebuilding the fleet. We had to build new shipyards just to give us the capability needed to even begin.
“Then, on top of everything else, the Manta took lessons from you and began their own suicide runs, even as they were dying. Luckily, the weapon and shield upgrades were fleet-wide and extremely effective. But, even so, we still took some nasty hits. Understandably, the attacks eventually tapered off, and we’ve since found many of their ships drifting in space, their crews long since dead.”
“Now, in my books that has to be a good thing,” Kes said.
“Of course it is, but something odd’s been going on. When the war eventually ended, the Admiralty began an expansion programme and ordered the fleet to begin setting up fresh colonies on new worlds, as we’d lost so many of the others. Then, just when we thought things were going well, we started losing ships again. There were no ‘maydays’, or any indication as to what happened; the ships simply vanished. We even lost an entire convoy, not too long ago. The Admiralty’s extremely concerned and the new shipyards have expanded even further and increased production as much as they can. Then we had some shocking news: we found out exactly what was causing the problems.”
“Don’t tell us, it was the Lexington,” Singh cut in, enjoying Kotes’ reaction.
“How the hell did you know that?” the lieutenant asked, jaw dropping open.
Selena stared at him in dismay. “Didn’t you get our signal?”
“What signal?”
“Fuck!” Singh gasped, turning to stare in horror at Selena.
“We sent out a signal as soon as we began our attacking run, warning you about the Lexington, the Scott and the nest ship. We saw them just prior to entering the enemy system, but couldn’t risk our mission by sending a signal warning you earlier.”
“What’s this you’re saying about a nest?” Kotes asked, in bewilderment. “We didn’t receive any such signal.”
Singh buried his head in his hands. “Oh, my God,” he said. “It was all for nothing. Damn it! The enemy fire must have misaligned the transmitter; that tight beamed message we sent must have been off target.”
Selena felt her rage building. Singh was right. She took a deep breath and forced herself to be calm and said, “You’d better send out a signal, Lieutenant Kotes, urgently. We saw the Lexington and Scott escorting what looked like a nest, or some kind of colony ship. Samantha managed to access the Scott’s database without the enemy knowing, and it shows the former human crew had discovered why the enemy couldn’t grow their crops anywhere but on Mantis. Apparently, it needs an extremely rare mineral in the soil to be able to grow and Mantis had that in plenty, as apparently do a few of our own worlds. Unfortunately, as the enemy captured the Scott intact, they now have all that relevant information as well. No doubt that colony ship has already landed somewhere; it’s probably begun harvesting and begun breeding new armies too.”
Kotes had gone a deathly white. He sat as still as a statue and whispered, “It can’t be. They’ve gone, Selena; you destroyed them. Something like this just couldn’t happen.”
“Oh, trust us, Sir, it can and I have a horrible feeling that it has,” Kes said quietly, swirling the liquid around his glass. “The Manta are still out there, somewhere. They’re multiplying, and I’ll bet that they’re doing so fast. You need to send that signal, Lieutenant, and I mean immediately.”
Chapter Twenty-one
The signal was sent and acknowledged, and the plan now was for the Magellan to lift off early the next morning. And so, on this world’s last night, they had a barbeque. It was held beside the wreckage of the lifeboat, so that early in the evening – before the sun set – members of the crew could swim and frolic in the waves, under the watchful gaze of armed guards.
Now, they stood around, eating and drinking, discussing old campaigns and war stories; laughing, joking and enjoying themselves – knowing that tomorrow they would be pitched back into the threat of war once again.
The evening sky was clear as usual. Smoke from the barbeque drifted aromatically on the warm wind, carrying with it brilliant sparks from the fire upwards for several arms’ lengths, before finally those fairy-like lights died out. Now and then, at short intervals, came the eldritch snarl of an unknown beast prowling in the gloom. They were unusually noisy tonight; it was as if they could sense the planet’s impending doom.
Selena talked to the ship’s Master-at-Arms for a while and then to one or two of the crew. At length, she excused herself and wandered off, to stand on her own a little way apart from the others, looking up at the myriad brilliant stars, one shining so much brighter than all the others. The night fell so quickly here, you could almost see it descend, as if someone had draped a blanket over the world.
Kotes had told her earlier that the penal corps was being reduced back to their original six battalions, many of the commandos having their sentences commuted due to their service in the war. But this trend would no doubt reverse again, now that humanity was finally alerted to the nest ship and the threat it posed. They’d need to re-arm to combat this new threat.
Selena wondered how many of the discharged Penal Corps had found their way to Loreen, whether they’d been recalled and if so on what grounds. A twig snapping behind her and broke her train of thought. “Who’s there?” she asked, turning towards the sound.
“Dreaming again?” a disembodied voice asked from out of the darkness.
“What?” she blinked and peered into the dark. “Oh, hi, Singh: how’s business?”
He grinned at her sheepishly, “Quite good actually. I’ve managed to sell just about all of that last batch of hooch I made; can you believe that? I made a small fortune, too. So, tell me, do you need anything?”
“What do you mean?”
“Like the question asks, do you need anything at all — or is there anything we can do? We’re not stupid, Selena. It’s obvious what you intend to do.”
Selena stepped back, her eyes widening. How the hell could he possibly know? “Er, no thanks, Singh. I think I’ve got just about everything I need.” She glanced at her watch. “In fact it’s nearly time for me to go.” Then she gave a half smile. “But I don’t suppose you could keep them occupied for a while, could you?”
He nodded solemnly, watching her eyes. “No problem.”
“Then I’ll see you around, pal,” she half whispered.
“Maybe,” Singh replied. Then he leant over and caught her arm, and planted a gentle kiss on her cheek, taking her by surprise. He watched as she turned and walked quickly into the darkness of the forest.
* * * *
“Goddam it, where the hell is she?” stormed Kotes. “We’ve searched everywhere we can think of for Commander Dillon, and now it appears she’s turned her damned personal tracker off. Have you any idea where she might be, man?”
“Not a clue,” Singh replied with a suitably glum expression. “And that’s Lieutenant to you, Lieutenant Kotes. You are aware of our ‘Right’, by the way, aren’t you?”
Kotes glowered at him. “Of course I am; do you think I was born yesterday? I’m well aware that the Penal Corps have the right to die where-so-ever they wish, and given what means are at their disposal. But not this time, Lieutenant, no way. She may well be my senior officer, but on this ship what I say goes. I’ve been given implicit orders to return all survivors to the Commodore, and that means every last one of you — Selena included. That’s why I’ve summoned you here to my cabin. We lift off in one hour, and I want her on board by then. Do I make myself clear, Lieutenant?”
“You’ll be disappointed, then,” Singh said mildly, handing the man a glass of his own whiskey, while he poured another for himself then sat and leaned back in one
of the armchairs. “She’s a real pearl in a sea of crap, Lieutenant. But I do hope you’re not going to give up hope of finding her just yet. After all, there’s still another fifty-three minutes to go before we have to leave and I’m sure the Commodore will want to know that every effort was made. This is a nice whiskey, by the way. Did you say it was single malt?”
Kotes glared at him, then downed his drink in one gulp and stood up. Banging his crystal glass on his desk, so that one of the ice cubes leaped free and danced across the table, he turned and stalked out of the room.
As the door banged shut, Singh swivelled his chair so that he could look out of the viewscreen down to the jungle far below and, with a soft smile, raised his glass in a toast.
* * * *
In a hidden valley not far from the crash site lay four graves, each festooned with flowers. In the centre of the clearing ran a gurgling stream of fresh clear water, which terminated in a large pond. Small amphibians sat there on lily-like pads, chirping away and basking in the night air.
Selena sat with her arms wrapped loosely around her knees, the machinegun by her side and Bryn’s hand-carved tombstone at her feet. Za’an’s grave lay off to one side, away from the joint one belonging to Arthur and Samantha. Each grave had been carefully placed, so they all faced the moonlight playing on the pond and lightly illuminating the grasses that rippled so serenely in the gentle breeze. If you listened carefully you could almost make out the sea playing mournfully against the shore a short distance away, a perfect accompaniment to the cheerful song of the amphibians.
She thought about Singh and Kes, apart from herself the last surviving members of her strike team. During the past few months she’d told them about her past, what the queen had done and her constant thirst for revenge. They in turn had shared a little of their own histories, and Singh also a little of Bryn’s. It was something that their sort rarely did, but those long months here had brought them far closer than she could have imagined, without the possibility of any of them ever being lovers.
