Suicide Mission: Unity War Book 2

by C. G. Michaels

  He wandered the corridors, going nowhere in particular, and finally came to a stop at one of the portholes lining the ship’s length. Instead of starlight he saw sunshine; instead of the vastness of space, he saw Colonial ships trading fire with Turtle warships and Copperheads. It felt odd not to be out there in the thick of it. His neck and shoulders hurt; his right arm ached; it seemed his entire body was in pain of some sort. But he didn’t like standing here watching others die for him.

  And he believed it was in part his fault, the Colonial ships coming through as early as they had; if he hadn’t barged through the wormhole to find Ilana when he had, the Colonial ships wouldn’t have followed in order to rescue him and Ilana. The Colonials would have prepared more, would have gone in when they were ready. He had forced their hand.

  He had fucked up good this time. The deaths of those aboard the Mare Cognitum were on his hands, and in the face of every one of them lived a ghost that would haunt him for the rest of his days.

  At least he had gotten Ilana back. She was safe. That thought made the rest almost bearable.

  A flicker in the sky caught his attention. There was a fluctuation around the edges of the wormhole, a flitter of light that shouldn’t be there. Garner pressed closer to the porthole, trying to get a better look, when Captain Stephenson’s voice came over the intership comm.

  “Everyone to your quarters. If you’re on duty, strap yourself in. We’re in for a race.”

  Garner started back for his bunk, confused and alarmed. He wanted desperately to go to Ilana, to keep her company when she might need it; but Jain wouldn’t allow it. As he rounded a corner, he nearly ran into Jaden.

  “Do you know what’s going on?” he asked.

  At the same time, she said, “I’ve been looking for you.”

  They laughed a little, and she said, “The wormhole is closing. If we don’t move fast, we’ll be trapped in enemy territory.”

  “So just use the orb to open it back up again.”

  “The orb isn’t working anymore. It exploded soon after the last ships came through.”

  “It exploded?”

  She shrugged. “Like a light bulb. Just, pop. It may not be repairable.”

  “What about the prototype?”

  “It’s already giving us problems. The functions stick. Look, all I know is, we have to get out of here, and fast. You should probably go be with Ilana; she won’t know what’s going on.”

  Was there a hint of jealousy in her tone? Part of him hoped so. But he shouldn’t think that way; he loved Ilana. “Doctor Jain won’t let me near her. She’s not supposed to have visitors.”

  “Maybe that’s better for you both. You both need to heal.”

  “So do you.” He reached up to touch her damaged face, then let his hand drop before he made contact. Jaden lowered her gaze.

  “Yeah.” Her voice was husky. “Maybe we all need some time.” She patted his good arm. “Better get to quarters. See you around, Garner.”

  “Yeah.” He had to fight himself not to watch her leave.

  * * *

  Garner, Fault, An, and Temple crowded around the single porthole in their quarters, trying to get a look at what was happening. All the Colonial fighters and shuttles had been called back to their warships, and the fleet was making a massive effort to get into and through the wormhole before the Snappers shot them down or closed the wormhole. Garner had never heard the Takarabune’s engines strain so hard. It was a constant, shrill, grinding noise that set his teeth to grating and that had turned Temple into a bundle of nerves.

  They were all on edge, come to that. The wormhole made for an uncomfortable place to be, with its trippy flashes of light and the absolute, starless black at the end of it. The ride itself wasn’t exactly smooth; it felt like the ship would tear apart at any moment.

  “Why do you think the orb popped like that?” Fault asked. Garner got the feeling he was making conversation so he wouldn’t have to think about the scream of the engines.

  “It probably got damaged in the crash,” An said. “It fell out of the alien warship and rolled a good way over rough ground. It makes sense it might not work properly.”

  “Yeah, but the techs checked it, right? I mean, they fixed all the damaged stuff.”

  “They should have; but anyone can miss something. And this is alien technology. We know next to nothing about it.”

  “So when they copied it to make the prototype, they could’ve copied the damaged part, too? I mean, isn’t it weird both orbs don’t work anymore?”

  “Maybe they weren’t meant to work,” Garner said.

  “Huh?”

  “The Turtles have tricked us before. Maybe they wanted us to find the orb. Maybe they knew what we would do with it and planned to trap us in their territory, where they outnumber and outgun us.”

  “They outnumber and outgun us in our space,” An said. “Why go to the trouble?”

  “To gain the advantage. Everybody knows the home team has the advantage.” It was something Adam used to say. Garner shrugged. “I don’t know, man. I’m just thinking out loud.”

  They burst out of the wormhole then, and Garner heard the engines slow.

  “Oh, thank God.” Temple sat down on his bed, then flopped down onto his back.

  They all breathed a sigh of relief. After the intensity of the race, their adrenaline was high, and when An suggested a beer once the all-clear sounded, no one objected. From this side of the ship they could only see some of the other Colonial warships, and Garner wondered if the Snappers had followed them through. Maybe the fighting wasn’t over yet.

  “Takarabune, we are through.” Captain Stephenson’s voice came clearly over the intership comm. She sounded weary, which was unlike her. “The wormhole is closed.” A pause. “The Montauk didn’t make it.”

  “Fuck this,” Fault said. “I’m goin’ for a beer.” He stalked out. A subdued Temple followed, and then An.

  Garner remained behind. He suddenly had no taste for beer.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Outside the Freyr Asteroid Belt

  Garner straightened his jacket and ran a hand through his hair, two things he had done countless times since being called to the captain’s office. He had showered, shaved, and put on a fresh uniform, and still he didn’t feel he measured up. He stood outside Captain Stephenson’s office and tried to breathe. In a moment he could be told he would be court martialled. He could possibly be sent to the brig. He hoped not; he’d had enough of cells for a while.

  There was no more putting it off, so he knocked. It sounded tentative, so he rapped harder.

  “Come in.”

  He again tried to draw breath, but oxygen seemed in short supply at the moment. He went through and stood to attention in front of the captain’s desk. “Lieutenant Garner Vasilescu reporting as ordered, ma’am.”

  She didn’t look up from what she was doing for several minutes, making him sweat it out. He knew she intended to make him as uncomfortable as possible, but it worked in spite of his knowing what she was up to. He kind of admired her for that.

  When she did look up at last, her dark blue eyes assessed him in ways even his lovers hadn’t. He strove to keep his face impassive, his posture straight.

  “Lieutenant,” she said, “do you know why I called you in here?”

  “I imagine it’s because I disobeyed orders, ma’am.”

  “You imagine correctly. Tell me, why did you disobey orders? You knew it was dangerous to go through the wormhole without running a series of tests first. Why did you go through even when your superior officers instructed you not to?”

  “I’m afraid it’s an old story, ma’am.”

  “Tell me anyway.”

  “It was because of a girl.”

  Her brows rose. “You were trying to impress a girl?”

  “No, ma’am, I was trying to rescue one. Ilana Carlsen. She was a medical officer here, and transferred to the Galapagos. I saw the aliens take her. I couldn
’t stand the thought of what they might be doing to her. So when I saw a chance, I took it.”

  “You love this girl.”

  “Deeply, ma’am.” He glanced away. “But I am sorry. I shouldn’t have done what I did. I know that now.”

  “Do you know the trouble you caused?”

  “Unfortunately for me, ma’am, yes, I do.” He paused. “But I’m glad I got her back. I wouldn’t do it again, not even for her . . . But I’m glad I got her back.”

  She studied him for a long moment. Then she said, “I believe you. I think you know what you did was wrong, and I believe you know something of the cost. I was going to demote you, but I know your record, and I don’t like to sully that. Instead, I’m docking your pay for the next six months. In addition, you’ll be spending all your free time for the next month helping in the Infirmary, effective immediately. I think doing some good for others will do you good, as well.”

  “Thank you, ma’am.”

  “Dismissed.”

  He got to the door when she called his name.

  “I’m glad you got her back, too,” she said.

  Garner left the captain’s office as quickly as he could, still taken aback that she hadn’t given him a more serious punishment. He was so absorbed in thought that for the second time that day he nearly ran headlong into Jaden, who was approaching from the opposite direction. She glanced at the office door.

  “You were called into Captain Stephenson’s office?”

  He nodded. “For disobeying orders.”

  “Did she give you hell?”

  “Kind of. But she was more understanding than I thought she’d be. She let me off easy, actually.”

  “Good for you.” Then, “It wasn’t your fault, you know. All of this.”

  He couldn’t agree with her. He looked away.

  “You going to see Ilana?”

  “Yeah. Doc said she’s up to it now.”

  “Tell her I hope she’s feeling better.” She smiled, making him think he had imagined her jealousy earlier.

  She went past him, and he risked a look at her backside as she walked away. Then he continued on to the Infirmary and Ilana.

  * * *

  Later that evening, Garner went to the rec room. He finally felt like company again, and he thought he could handle a card game or two. The room was packed as usual, but he found a chair near one of the tables, where Reindeer and Ness were playing poker against An and Temple. Jaden stood next to the digital media player and was selecting a tune.

  “Where are Fault and Lanei?” Garner asked.

  “I think Lanei is off making out with some guy,” An said. “Fault was in the bar, last I saw him.”

  “I gave him some rum,” Ness said, and took another card. At Garner’s questioning look, she shrugged. “He had something I wanted.”

  “He has something I want, too, but I’m probably not going to get it with rum,” Temple said.

  An blushed. “Please. I don’t like envisioning him . . . ”

  “What? Naked?”

  “The way you’re envisioning him,” An said uncomfortably.

  “If you can talk all night to me about Emma Hepburn’s breasts, then I can talk to you about Fault’s very fine ass.”

  An grimaced. “That’s fair. I guess.”

  “You can talk to me about Emma’s breasts any time,” Reindeer said. She was currently unattached but seeking. Garner didn’t know much about her—she stayed on the bridge most of the time, while he was off in the Ready Room or in his fighter or training—but he did know she liked women. Ilana had flirted with her once in an effort to make Garner jealous. It had just made him horny.

  “Hey.” Garner tapped Reindeer on the shoulder with the back of his hand. “Have we heard from Montauk yet?”

  Her expression darkened. “No. And I don’t think we’re going to.”

  So the Montauk was gone. Gone, or dead. Either way, the Colonies weren’t likely to see her again.

  He wondered if they could figure out how to do the same to the aliens.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Outside the Freyr Asteroid Belt

  Brid sipped her fourth coffee of the day—her fourth real coffee, the kind with caffeine—and savored the rich, sweet taste. Usually, she liked just enough cream to soften, but not dull, the taste of the coffee; this time, she had gotten distracted talking to someone and accidentally used enough cream to turn the coffee three shades whiter than usual. But it was superb. Light and oh-so-creamy.

  She took her regular seat in the Mess, at a small table with two chairs. Each of the chairs sat in a position from which the person sitting in them could look out a porthole, a feature that pleased Brid. She enjoyed looking out at the stars. She missed sunlight sometimes, and the feel of grass beneath her bare feet; but she had always loved the night, and the stars. The Takarabune had long been home to her.

  Not many people populated the Mess at this hour, so late after supper. No meals were served after six p.m., only snacks and beverages, and most of those were healthy choices, so the crew tended to shy away from them. Even the fries—served only once a month to lower-ranking officers—were baked, not fried, although they disappeared before anything else on the snack menu.

  At exactly the time she expected him, Samson Lange appeared, bearing his own cup of coffee, which steamed and permeated the air with its aroma. Samson liked his coffee black, one sugar, but she didn’t hold it against him.

  They had been meeting like this for a short while now, as their business relationship had slowly evolved into a respectful friendship. Of all the men and women commanding fighter pilots on the Takarabune, Brid liked Samson the best, both personally and professionally. As far as she knew, he had no one to call family but his fellow Star Force soldiers, and he had often seemed to her an aloof and at times lonely figure. But as she had grown to know him better, she had realized that, like herself, he bonded with those he worked with. He had gotten very attached to the 15th Squadron, and it had been his assessment of Lieutenant Vasilescu’s record that had played the final part in her decision to sentence the lieutenant as she had.

  She also believed Vasilescu when he said he would never act in such a reckless manner again. She had seen in his eyes that he took to heart the damage he had done; and that was something he would have to live with for the rest of his life.

  Not that Vasilescu was entirely at fault, or the only one to blame. His friends had followed him into enemy territory, and while they hadn’t disobeyed orders to do so, the act had been ill advised. As for the rest of it . . . They had intended to go through the wormhole at some point, after all. Vasilescu had only prompted them to do so sooner rather than later.

  “Good evening, Samson,” she said as he took the seat opposite her.

  He nodded a greeting. Samson wasn’t much for words.

  They talked for a bit about current matters, and she told him what she had done about Vasilescu. She could see he agreed with her decision, although he didn’t say it outright.

  “The kid’s punishing himself more than we ever could,” he said, and left it at that. Then, “I’ve been thinking about the Montauk. Do you think your communications officer could figure out a way to get a message to them, let them know they’re not forgotten, and that there’ll be a rescue mission? Grim Moore could give her a hand. Maybe between the two of them they could rig a way to get a message deep into space in a short amount of time.”

  “We still have the orb prototype,” Brid said thoughtfully. “Grim is working on fixing it and figuring out what went wrong. It’s possible that we could send something once we can open the wormhole again. I haven’t given up on the Montauk, either. They could still be alive in there, or somewhere.

  “One way or another, I intend to find our people and bring them home, alive or no.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Outside the Freyr Asteroid Belt

  Fault sat on the edge of his rack in a tank and fatigues, a damp towel draped over his should
ers, trying to enjoy the cool air coming in through the vents after his run. The air brushed across his bare arms like a lover’s kiss, but it didn’t do anything to help his mood, or lack thereof. Ever since the Mare Cognitum had been destroyed, he’d felt nothing but numbness—the usual rage and depression had evaporated, but now he felt nothing at all, and that worried him as much as his volatile feelings had, because he didn’t know what to make of it.

  Well, there was apparently one emotion he could still feel—fear. But even that held a dull, opaque sort of quality. He got up and paced the narrow room, his boots making a muffled thumping sound atop the thinning carpet. What the fuck was wrong with him?

  The run hadn’t made him feel any better, or even any different. He tossed his sweaty towel into the laundry bin and started a cold shower, spending just enough time to cool himself down a bit and chase the reek away. Star Force’s military-issue shampoo and soap smelled different to him than the stuff the Osirian government gave its soldiers, but not a whole lot different, and he wondered idly if all the Colonies’ military-issue cleansers were that much alike. Thinking about it made Jaden’s unique fragrance cross his mind, and he wished he could touch her, embrace her, feel her body pressed up against his; he wanted her smell all over him.

  When he’d first transferred to the Takarabune, he’d been disappointed to learn he’d be bunking with three other guys instead of nine other people of mixed sexes like on the Mare Cognitum—the crowd of ten he could do without, but he liked rooming with women. They were always careful to change in one of the ladies’ rooms, but they’d hung around the bunk in their underwear, same as the guys; it was military issue, of course, so not sexy as such, but still. He longed to bunk with Jaden like that, to be in close quarters with her, to sleep knowing she lay nearby.

  He wanted a physical relationship with her, and he thought maybe he had a chance on that score, if she wasn’t too hung up on Garner. But for the first time he wanted more than that, and he wasn’t so sure she felt the same. They fought kind of a lot—his fault—and he had a tendency to push her away. Plus he might be going crazy. She might not want to deal with that.