Resolve of Steel (Halloran's War Book 2)

by J. R. Geoghan

  Heres’ frown deepened. “A possibility, yes?”

  Renno shrugged. “Perhaps.”

  “So. Halloran runs. He’s trying to hide. Why Perses?”

  “It makes some sense, Sir,” said the pilot from his station.

  “Why?”

  “Perses is where Garvin is. The abandoned station.” He studied his report onscreen. “Records indicate it was occupied by a private citizen.”

  Heres wagged a finger in the pilot’s direction. “Sounds like a perfect hiding place.”

  The communications tech called. “Captain, Captain Orris is hailing us.”

  Heres, about to order the jump, relented. “I’ll take him privately.” He leaned over Renno. “Be ready to jump to this Garvin the moment I give you the go-ahead,” he whispered as he turned away.

  Chapter 31

  Reyes was standing outside Medical as Halloran approached. The look on his face was solemn. “Captain.”

  Halloran laid a hand on the Chief’s shoulder. “Bad, Abran?”

  The Cuban nodded his thick jaw. “Bad, sir.” He looked over his shoulder. “Captain Antonov wants to be here before we do this.” He had a tablet in his hand, which Halloran saw was shaking.

  “You alright, Abran?”

  Reyes tried to meet his eyes and failed, glancing away. “It’s…it’s a lot of the men.” After a moment he did make eye contact. “You grow closer together, through this, you know?” He blinked and Halloran felt a stab of compassion for the thick-skinned man before him. Reyes might be the unflappable Master Chief, undisputed ruler of the crew, but he too had a breaking point. Halloran remembered the tense minutes back on Earth, when Reyes had been just over the breaking point. He’d have to watch the man carefully now. I don’t know what I’d do without him.

  Antonov came out of Medical and let the hatch close behind him slowly.

  “Pyotr.”

  “Sir.” He looked at Reyes and nodded tightly. “Chief.” He swayed as he said it and put a hand out against the bulkhead for support, blinking.

  Halloran realized that his crew had all passed the breaking point. He exhaled. “Let’s have it.”

  Reyes lifted the tablet. “We started out with two Tavarran replacements for Patredes and DeBartelo. Post engagement, the report is five KIA; Kauffman and James in Electrical, Baker in Ops.”

  “They were in the Ops Center when it was hit?”

  Reyes nodded before continuing to read. “Also one of the replacements, name of Cassis. And Cochran in Battery B.” Reyes’ eyes had reddened when he glanced up; He and Cochran had served together in prior boats.

  “Go on.”

  Aye, sir… Six wounded, including Captain Antonov here.”

  Antonov lifted an arm to show the wrap around his midsection, under his shirt.

  “How is it?”

  “Puncture wound, missed the vitals but hurts like a bear.”

  “King took a bad hit; he’s unconscious now. Flagler tore up her arm trying to save Cochran, sir.”

  “I’m sorry, Chief.”

  Reyes swallowed. “Monahan has burns over most of his lower torso. And the alien got hit by a falling chunk of debris.”

  “Don’t call him that, Chief. Call him Commander Axxa.”

  Reyes’ frown said volumes about what he thought of it. “Aye, sir.”

  Halloran crossed his arms, feeling the tension. “Eleven casualties against a roster of twenty-nine. That isn’t good.”

  “At least Engineering missed getting hit. We’re under full propulsion. I was down to see Lieutenant Hummel, sir; the jumpdrive is working fine now that they’ve isolated that electrical issue.”

  “Other damage? Hull?”

  Antonov sighed. “Actually, it’s not as bad as it looks.”

  Halloran’s brow rose. “It looks pretty bad.”

  The Russian nodded. “I have Chief Parker and Yeoman Butler combing over the outer compartments looking for breaches we’ve missed like last engagement, but by and large the hits were sealed by this incredible Tavarran steel. I am glad he repaired the hull when he did.”

  “But the interior…”

  “…Ain’t great, sir,” completed Reyes. “We’ve got life support and operations in shambles. Lieutenant Travers managed to re-patch some of the life support functions through Engineering backups, but our atmosphere is going to begin declining within hours. Deacon got banged up during the gravity loss but did okay…for an ‘air breather.’ I put him on the job of monitoring the remaining life support equipment with orders to call me if anything looks off to him. There’s not much to monitor, though,” he added with a face.

  “Will we need to evacuate?”

  “You’ll need to ask Lieutenant Travers that, sir. He knows this ship’s systems better’n anybody.” He made a face. “Food processors—really the entire crew compartment—destroyed too, sir.”

  “Weapons status?”

  Antonov took the tablet and scrolled. “We can get all batteries back online eventually, but right now there are failures reporting in seven of the twelve projectile batteries. Three of the plasma batteries had their power cut by incoming fire, but Parker believes he can repair them fairly easily.” He handed the tablet back to the Chief. “I sent Petrey and Wilson to scrounge any other spares that they can find—the two of them know the layout of the storage best.” He shook his head. Halloran saw that the usually-implacable Russian was rattled. “We don’t have enough crew left on two feet to complete repairs in a month, assuming we even understood how the equipment went together.”

  Halloran leaned against the bulkhead. “Let’s work one problem at a time. So, we can maneuver and fight, but our air is limited and we’re down a third of our complement.”

  Reyes tapped the tablet as if to make a point. “We’d probably be a lot worse off if Captain Kendra hadn’t pulled off that stellar attack back there. Sir.”

  So word had spread from the bridge about that, Halloran noted. “Alright, we’re several hours out from our destination, so I’ll check on the wounded and talk to them. Antonov, you get yourself sorted out and take my cabin to be closer to the bridge as we come out of jumpspace; we’re still not sure what to expect at the other end.” He ended with a meaningful look at the other officer. Get yourself together, I need you.

  After a few moments of silence filled by the sounds of machinery humming loudly, Antonov slowly saluted with a nod. “We’re heading to that abandoned world you mentioned, correct?”

  “That’s right. There’s an old archive on some Fleet station that’s out of service.”

  “Expecting anything?”

  Halloran straightened and stretched his neck. He was more tense than he’d ever felt in his career. “I’m expecting anything, Pyotr.”

  Reyes was only half-listening; Halloran could tell that his mind was already on the repairs and wounded. “Sir, we need to do a service. I’m having Brown come up and help me with the bodies.” The broad-shouldered man’s red eyes looked bloodshot.

  “I know, Chief. I’ll work on that.” He placed a hand on Reyes’ shoulder. “We need to keep moving. We can rest later. No looking back or down.”

  Reyes nodded in appreciation and adjusted his cap with two hands. “And sir, you should know that Commander Axxa really did well. I’m sorry about that earlier crack.”

  “Thanks, Chief. I’ll stop in and see him.”

  The Medical bay was worse than the last time he’d seen it. Bloody bandages and clothing were everywhere, on every surface. The floor was streaked with red from the passage of the wounded. The space wasn’t that big to begin with; Halloran figured that the Prax didn’t plan to save their own as much as let them die in battle.

  At the far end of the well-lit space Elias Whitney was bending over a crewman whose face Halloran couldn’t immediately see. Blocking his view was Stan Richards from the mess; Richards had been assigned to the medical team at general quarters by Chief Reyes.

  A voice at his elbow said, “It’s Don King, sir. H
e went into shock from blood loss.”

  Halloran nodded. “Thank you, Yeoman. How are you?”

  Flagler held up a splinted arm. “Feels okay now that Stan shot me full of painkillers. It was a gash when I…I…”

  Halloran put a hand on her shoulder. He saw Axxa watching the exchange from across the room where the alien sat against the wall.

  Flagler’s eyes were thick with emotion as she looked up at Halloran. “I couldn’t reach him, sir.” She swallowed heavily, then cleared her throat and batted at an eye with her free hand. “He was trapped in there after the battery got hit. I managed to close the outer doors, but there was a fire below him.”

  He tightened his grip. “Bob was a good sailor.”

  Flagler nodded up at him as another tear ran slowly down her black-stained cheek. “He was always so stubborn. Cassis did what he could, too—before he got hit by some chunk of metal like I did—but Bob wasn’t getting out of that hole.” She looked down at the deck. “He’s still there, sir.”

  “We’ll get him out, Karen.” He felt Axxa’s eyes on him again and looked over. The Prax displayed no emotion but his gaze was hard. Halloran gave Flagler a brief hug. “You take care of yourself and connect with Gerry when you’re able. I need the two of you on the weapons systems ASAP; we’re on our way to a new star system I hope will be quieter but one thing we’ve learned out here is nothing seems to go right for us.”

  “Aye, sir. It sure doesn’t.” But Flagler had straightened somewhat at the business talk and was tugging on her uniform shirt in a new effort to recover her dignity. She’d be okay.

  Halloran patted her on the shoulder again and walked over to Axxa. He watched Halloran approach and stood up before he got over. “Captain.” He was favoring one side and there was blood on his pant leg.

  “What’s your status, Commander?”

  “I believe I am fit for duty, but the surgeon ordered me to stay until he is done with Mr. King. He would like to inspect me.”

  Halloran turned to watch the surgery. Whitney was attempting to guide Richards’ hands to something on the table. “The Ops Center is out of action?” He looked sidewise at Axxa.

  “The fire destroyed much of the equipment, Captain. I find this all quite interesting.”

  Halloran raised an eyebrow up at the alien.

  “I don’t think the translator is correctly conveying my comment. What I mean is that, on Prax…in our way…the dead are honored for generations. To perish in battle is preferred. As a result, we do not seek to heal our wounded.” He put his hands together with a slight grimace of pain that Halloran picked up on. “Our way is to fight and die together. No surrender, as you discovered in the mines on Tavar.”

  “We have similar sentiments, Mr. Axxa.” Halloran folded his arms across his chest. “When the time comes, we humans will rally to each other to fight a common enemy—to the death if need be. The Alamo.”

  “Alamo?”

  “It was a fort in Texas where defenders of all sorts banded together to hold off an overwhelming invading Mexican army. They knew they weren’t going to make it but they stayed and fought anyway. No one survived.”

  Axxa dipped his head in understanding. “This sounds like the Prax way.”

  Halloran studied him for a moment. “But we seek always to save the wounded at great cost to ourselves. Our military has a ‘no man left behind’ policy.”

  “This is not our way, Captain. But I also perceive how it makes your race stronger.”

  Halloran was still staring at the alien thoughtfully when Whitney came over. Halloran saw the man’s exhaustion. “Sir.”

  “How is Seaman King?”

  Whitney pulled off a bloody glove. “He’s stable now. We managed to get blood…” He glanced at Axxa, “From an unlikely source.”

  Axxa actually looked embarrassed. “It is known among our people of the similarity in blood chemistry. Mr. King would have died anyway.”

  “Well, that’s true,” noted Whitney. “The Prax typing kit ID’d Axxa as a likely donor and I frankly didn’t have time to search for a human match.”

  “I was the wrong type, sir,” added Flagler from where she sat.

  Halloran grasped Axxa’s elbow. “Good work, Commander.”

  “Well, we’ll see what the long-term effects of the transfusion are,” Whitney said. “Stan is finishing his suture up now; he’s actually good at that. Better’n me.” The Corpsman dabbed a cut on his cheek.

  “You’re tired, Elias. If everyone here is stable you should grab some shuteye. We’re coming out of jump in a new system with an as-yet unknown reception.”

  Whitney dropped the gloves he’d been holding into a bin and tugged on a fresh set sourced from a pocket. He shrugged at Halloran’s raised eyebrow. “Sorry sir, we’re doing the best we can.” He took Axxa’s arm and lifted it. “Now let me see where those ribs are broken, sir.”

  Axxa turned to let Whitney examine him and addressed Halloran. “I shall return to duty shortly, Captain. I assume we are understaffed…”

  Halloran sighed. “That’s an understatement.” He included Flagler with a glance. “I know this is hard but I need everyone back at their posts and helping out ASAP. I want Richards to join the damage party the moment he’s done with King. Elias, you too. There are some bodies to be dealt with; the Chief is working on that.”

  Whitney looked up from his examination. “Aye, sir.”

  “How many did we lose, sir?” Flagler had stood.

  “Too many, Yeoman. Too many.”

  Chapter 32

  The Perses system and the planet that suddenly appeared on the forward screen was truly beautiful. Everyone on the bridge was struck silent by its majesty of purple-blue swirls. Even at hundreds of thousands of kilometers away its beauty captivated.

  A full minute passed wherein Halloran allowed himself to be taken in by the vision of it, letting his crew see it and appreciate the moment, before speaking softly. “Can I assume we’re there?” The silent enormity of space hadn’t stopped making a profound impression on him. He’d spent a restless hour in his cabin attempting to sleep but failed miserably.

  Djembe nodded. “Outer Perses system. That’s Garvin, sir. We’ll make orbit in…one hour, fifty minutes from our exit point. Nice and close.”

  “Carruthers, get me a detailed scan of the vicinity and locate this orbiting station.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  Chief Reyes came onto the bridge and over to Halloran’s chair. He still looked haggard even after the Captains-orders shower and shave. “You called, sir?”

  “Not a lot of people left to mount a proper landing party should we need to, Chief.”

  “I’ll go, sir. Let me bring one other man and Captain Kendra in the shuttle.”

  Halloran considered it. He had planned to lead the shore party once again, but with their severe lack of staffing the ship was becoming difficult to operate. Repairs from the battle were barely underway. The life support situation had been attacked first and Parker had figured out a workaround to bypass some of the fried electronics. But it was far from permanent. What if the ship experienced a major concern while he was away? Halloran trusted Antonov, but the man was hurt and could develop complications. Kendra would be off-ship.

  But Reyes was the glue that kept the crew—what remained of it—together. If Halloran were to lose him, the men would never be the same as a unit. Chief Parker was a mechanical expert, but not a Chief of the Boat. Outside of Halloran and Antonov themselves, Reyes was the only other man aboard comfortable with running a crew.

  “Sir,” called Carruthers without looking back. “Sensors are detecting a large mass on the far side of Garvin. Appears to be in orbit.”

  “Engage the Hidden Claw. It’s still operational?”

  “Aye and yes, sir. Engaging now.”

  “How long before we can get a better read of this object?”

  “Unclear, sir. Still scanning the planet and surrounding bodies. Some of the damage affected t
he power source for the sensor arrays.” She sounded tired, too. We’re all a mess, thought Halloran. One more push and we may not bounce back.

  “Very well.” Halloran looked up at Reyes. “Thanks, Chief, but you’re needed here. While I’m away, the priority is effecting every critical repair we can pull off.”

  “Aye, sir. May I recommend Lieutenant Hummel for your team? Wyatt has Engineering under control, and you may have the opportunity to forage for supplies.” As the supply officer aboard Bonhomme Richard, Hummel had displayed considerable initiative in securing hard-to-find items while in port.

  Halloran agreed. “Very well. Is the intership fixed?”

  Reyes looked pained. “No, sir. I’ll send someone to inform him.”

  “Have him report to the shuttle bay in shore party gear immediately. And find Captain Kendra, too. Same orders.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  After Reyes had gone to find his runner, Halloran stood. “I’ll be in my cabin.” He nodded to Carruthers. “You take the conn.”

  Once the door to his cabin closed, Halloran leaned against it and closed his eyes, running his fingers through fuzzy hair. The cut had grown out microscopically and he suddenly felt unkempt. He had a sudden flashback to being berated about his longish hair once, at boot camp in Michigan. The DI had insisted he’d amount to nothing with his lack of discipline. Maybe the jerk was right after all.

  Halloran stepped forward and dropped onto his bed. The mattress—if it could be legitimately be called that—was very hard. Even after weeks in space, he hadn’t grown accustomed to it. Perhaps it was because the bed was so big.

  Doubts and concerns filled his head. Once again, they approached a planet with unknown capabilities. Jackson had said that this Telos Archive was benign, lacking integral defenses. But the Haulers were known to trade with this Mr. Telos. Halloran was sure that an undamaged Serapis could handle a Hauler ship in a fight, but with the current situation he feared that even a lucky shot from an enemy could cause critical damage and they’d lose the ship in the process. Let alone if anything properly armed would show up. Fact was, the Serapis was ill-prepared to survive another pitched battle. At least the Engines and shields were operational, he reminded himself grimly.