It took them two minutes, both of which added up to an eternity for the captain.
“It’s not looking good, sir.”
“Well, at least we’ll be on time,” he said and skimmed the short report. “Prepare to transition on my mark. Three…two—”
“Sir! We have incoming!”
“Abort transition!”
“Transition aborted,” the Tempestarii informed them coolly and added, “Message torp uploading.”
“Time?” Emil demanded as the comms team called, “Done!”
He didn’t bother to ask them how. Jaleck’s message was short and to the point.
“They are four days early. Hurry.”
It was followed by a set of coordinates.
“Four days early?” He glanced at the timeframe he’d been working from. “We’re late! Get me Stephanie.”
“I’m here,” she told him.
“Jaleck asks us to hurry. The attack’s begun,” he told her.
Her eyes blazed.
“Get your people aboard,” Emil added, trying to temper her fury. “We need to translate before we drop you off.”
“Understood,” Stephanie snapped, but he heard the Morgana’s darkness curling through her tones and wondered how much time she’d allow.
He was about to tell her they’d travel as fast as they could when she blinked out and her voice came over the Tempestarii’s comms.
“All crew, all crew, all crew,” Stephanie began, and it was clear the Witch was in control. “Return to your ships and prepare for transition. I repeat, return to your ships and buckle in. We are going to war.”
Stephanie stalked the Knight’s corridors, her presence as reassuring as it was alarming. Power crackled over her skin and her eyes were as black as pitch.
Lars and the cats trotted beside her, and Vishlog and Frog brought up the rear. Garach and Marcus raced to the Tempestarii’s pod suite, only to be met halfway there by Todd and the Hooligans, who were returning.
As the Witch moved past one of the shield generators, she noticed two technicians. One held several pieces from inside the generator.
“We can’t stop now,” the junior protested. “We only need ten minutes.”
“More like thirty,” the old man told him, “and we don’t have it.”
“It doesn’t matter. The Knight needs her shields. You heard Steph. We’re going into a war zone.”
“Knight needs her people too,” the senior tech told him. “She won’t forgive me if I get you killed before you finish the job because something happened during transition.”
“But—”
“Enough!” Stephanie snapped, and they both turned toward her.
Vishlog grabbed Zee before he could make a move on one of the toolkits lying tantalizingly close by. The technicians’ eyes widened, but she ignored him.
“Shields?” she asked, and the men nodded.
“Tape yourselves to the wall and finish it while we move,” she ordered. “The fight will have started when we get there and I like my ship.”
“Gotcha,” the senior tech said, but he spoke to her rapidly departing back.
He turned to his junior as the rest of the team moved past.
“Keep working. I’ll get the tape.”
“Do we have time for tethers?” the younger man asked quickly. “We’re gonna need to move around a little.”
The other man considered it, then gave a sharp nod.
“We’ll tape ourselves to the tethers,” he said. “It should work.”
He hurried to the supplies locker. When he glanced back, he was glad to see his junior already reaching into the generator with the part and screwdriver in hand.
“When you said ‘drop me off,’” Stephanie began once she’d opened a line to Emil.
“I meant we’ll get you close to the Dreth fleet, warn them to expect a package, and then get into the fight.”
“You know I won’t stay near the Dreth fleet, don’t you?” she asked and he gave her a sad smile.
“I know, but Tempe and I will provide a distraction while you decide on the first skip. Near the Dreth is the safest starting point. After that, you simply need to be yourself.”
“Oh, I will be,” Stephanie muttered, then smiled.
Emil shivered. He’d forgotten that look and the smile that said anything that stood in her way was dead and simply didn’t know it.
He’d remembered by the time he met her eyes and his smile was equally savage.
“Are we ready?” he asked.
“Emil, the Knight and her crew were born ready.”
On the weapons decks, the gun crews stood beside their weapons. The off-duty crew had been told to sleep while they could and that the Knight would make sure they were called when needed, but sleep was elusive.
In the engine room, Cameron checked the readings and walked between the drives, listening to them idle. They were ready.
On the Tempestarii, the Meligornians finished the last of Stephanie’s adjustments, and the Telorans nodded approvingly.
Translation began and quiet descended. It reminded Piet of the calm before a storm.
“Thar she blows,” Amaratne murmured when they reached the cleared space along the perimeter fence.
“The sensors are down, and the cameras will show nothing but empty forest for the next twenty-four hours,” Ted told them. “As long as the loop isn’t discovered, of course.”
“In twenty-four hours,” the admiral replied, “they’ll have far more to worry about than a looping security feed.”
They moved up to the fence and Remy flipped the top of his finger open to reveal a laser cutter hidden inside his hand.
Amaratne shook his head and put the wire snips into their pouch.
“And I thought we would have to do this the hard way,” he said.
“Nope,” Remy told him. “This model has all the best features.”
“You mean you love them more than your hat?” Ivy asked him, and the AI smiled as he rolled the fence panel back and held it so they could slip through.
Once they were clear, he pulled it back into place and welded it together again.
“But does it come with a flashlight?” John asked and chuckled as they moved quickly to the shelter of a maintenance shed.
“Like you wouldn’t believe,” Remy told him smugly. He crouched beside them. “Are we ready?”
“Like you wouldn’t believe,” Ivy echoed softly, but her face said she was nervous.
Amaratne raised his hand and John reached across to clasp it. After a moment’s hesitation, Ivy and Remy added their hands.
“We’ve got this,” John assured them.
“We’d better have,” the admiral responded. “The Witch needs us.”
“She is coming back,” the boy declared softly.
“And we will be waiting,” Remy added.
Ivy nodded and the nerves cleared from her face. “Let’s do this.”
She and John turned away and moved slowly from behind the maintenance shed and toward the employees’ parking lot. Remy and Amaratne watched them disappear before they reached it.
“I wish I could do that,” the older man murmured.
“Talent envy, huh?” Remy replied as they leaned against the wall.
“Only sometimes. When I think about what that boy has been through…”
“Yup,” the AI agreed. “We’re lucky to have him.”
“Hell, this whole world’s lucky,” the AI declared. “It merely doesn’t know it.”
Remy consulted his internal chronometer. “How long do you think they’ll need?” he asked.
“Half an hour to get to the beanstalk and maybe another two to get to the orbital. Twenty seconds to start causing trouble.”
“They’ll need more than twenty seconds to reach the server room,” the AI observed.
“I know that,” Amaratne said, “but what are the chances they’ll stay out of trouble until they get there?”
Remy laid a h
and on the admiral’s shoulder. “Have a little faith.”
“Faith is one thing,” he grumbled, “but there’s reality, too.”
His teammate patted him. “Then have faith that they’ll have the sense to make your plan a reality.”
The man shifted uneasily. “Do you think they’re there yet?”
Remy frowned. “I thought I told Roma to leave your mental maturity alone.”
While Amaratne thought about how to answer that, John guided Ivy down the busy corridors of the communication center. It was hard to keep moving when all he wanted to do was stop and stare.
He’d never seen such a place and, judging from her tight hold on his arm, neither had she. Neither of them said a word until they reached the base of the cable.
Rather than try to go through the turnstile, he floated them over the heads of the waiting queue and into one of the cars. He kept them hovering above the car’s floor, remembering how they’d been discovered in the balloon.
It wouldn’t do for the same thing to happen there.
Ivy stifled a gasp as the car started to move and the world outside became a blur. John put his mouth close to her ear.
“It used to take five days to ride one of these,” he mused. “Can you imagine?”
She gulped and pressed her face into his chest. “I don’t want to.”
“What’s wrong?” he whispered over the comms.
“It’s too fast,” she whispered. “You can’t bend light around vomit.”
“I could try,” he offered.
“Nope. Just hold me and tell me when we get there.”
“If you wanted a hug, all you had to do was ask. There’s no need to be so dramatic about it.”
She gave him a half-hearted slap on the chest but didn’t move her head, and they stood in silence until the car came to a stop.
On the ground, Amaratne looked at his watch and nudged Remy.
“It’s time,” he said and checked the pistol in his jacket pocket.
He took it out and made sure it was ready for use once he stood. “Is it clear?”
Remy stuck his head around the corner as Ted replied.
“Clear for the cameras.”
“Clear for parking lot,” the younger AI agreed.
“You have a two-minute window before the next vehicle arrives and you’re out of the guard station’s line of sight,” Ted informed them.
Moving quickly, they reached the parking lot long before the vehicle and crouched to catch their breath. They listened as the other car pulled up and waited for the doors to slam and the crunch of shoes on gravel to fade.
“Clear,” Ted told them, and they rose from behind the car. Amaratne straightened his jacket and checked Remy carefully.
“That hat—” he began.
“The hat stays,” the AI retorted. “I’m your guest, remember?”
The admiral sighed. “Fine, but on your head be it.”
“Exactly,” Remy concluded.
Amaratne shook his head. The humor helped but he knew exactly how hard this mission would be—and in exactly how many ways it could go wrong.
“Well,” he mumbled, “I always wanted to go out with a bang.”
“John wouldn’t be too happy to hear you say that,” Remy reminded him and the admiral chuckled.
“That young man is the last person I’d want to upset—except for maybe the Morgana,” he replied.
They reached the entrance and he smiled and ushered Remy through before him. They were almost there, and if he achieved what they’d come to do and things did go wrong, it didn’t matter.
“Let’s get it done,” he said.
“We’re—” John began, and Ivy slapped him again.
“I know.”
As soon as the car was clear, he used a little Talent to delay the doors so they could debark, guided them onto the concourse, and gave Ivy time to get her bearings.
“Where to?” he asked and noticed an alcove dotted with tables and chairs. He guided her to a table and eased her into a seat with her back to the window.
It took a minute for her to get her bearings, but he felt her move as she raised her head and looked around the communications center. He could only imagine the similarities between the work setup he saw here and those in the hubs on the ground.
As he looked around, he saw two Talents, each accompanied by a handler as they moved from one workspace to the next and wondered what gift they had to land them there. He truly hoped they weren’t psi.
Ivy pulled her tablet out and tapped into the station’s internal Wi-Fi, while John kept watch on the workers he could see and looked for any sign that her connection had been noticed. Nothing was apparent, but he had begun to feel uneasy by the time she tucked the tablet away.
“The server room is through there and up a flight of stairs. It takes up almost the entire floor above us.”
“And you’ll be safe up there?”
“Surveillance shows a couple of Talents,” she replied, “and one guy whose job seems to be to watch them. I only need to get past them to…”
She pulled her tablet out and showed him. “Here. Is that okay?”
He gave her a grim smile. “As long as you’re safe enough to do what you need to do, it’ll do fine.”
“It will be.”
“Good. Once you’re in position, I’ll draw the Talents and their handler to this floor and keep everyone occupied until you’ve finished.”
Her eyes darkened with worry. “Will you be okay for that? There are so many guys here.”
“Girls, too,” he observed, “but yeah, I’ll be fine. I’ll try to work back to the stairs when you’re done. Will there be a signal?”
“For?”
“If you’re finished.”
“Yes. It’ll involve a slew of cussing and satellites falling from the skies.” She smiled. “Exactly like an American Fourth of July.”
“But isn’t it November?”
Her smile vanished and she glared at him.
“Aussies!” She harrumphed. “Can’t live with ʼem. Can’t shove ʼem out of a spaceship when you’re done with ʼem!”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Two systems from Dreth, Captain Thiele followed Ironsides through the transition to emerge at the rendezvous point.
He’d give the boy credit. His ships had kept formation and would have been in good shape to face any hostile force that might have been waiting. He couldn’t say the same for Canavan.
“Get your formation in order!” he roared, “and pray you don’t need cohesive maneuvering to survive the next battle.”
“Command says we’re to wait here for reinforcements and further orders. They’re sending the rest of the fleet, sir!”
A prickle of apprehension went through him.
“Did they send holding coordinates?” he asked, and a new heading arrived on his console.
“Helm, pass those coordinates along and have Ironsides move toward them post-haste,” he ordered. “Clear the transition point! Fleet to stay in formation. Scan the system to see who else is here.”
He listened as his orders were passed on and waited for the results, his body tense.
“Scans indicate no other presence, sir.”
“Good, keep scanning. We’ll have new arrivals shortly. Make sure you identify every single one. We don’t want any surprises.”
His next pause stretched a few moments longer before he issued another set of orders.
“Go through Readiness Drill One. Every ship and every flotilla. Pass the word.”
Klaxons sounded, and the crew leapt into action. Thiele wondered at the wisdom of another drill, but after Canavan’s performance, he wondered if it wasn’t essential. A drill would keep them busy and might ensure that each ship was ready. Disciplinary action could wait until after the battle had been won.
Halfway through, the scanners picked up movement on the edge of the system. The captain frowned.
It was in the wrong direction.
As the ships closed ranks to make the more compact arrowhead with a layer of protection flying overhead, the scan team worked to identify the incoming fleet.
Alarm rolled through the command deck when they did.
“Dreth, sir! It’s the Dreth!”
“Do you know what I like best about this?” Amaratne asked as Remy opened fire with a blaster in each hand.
“No, Admiral. What?”
“All the pockets!” He tossed another sticky at a door and continued to run. “We’re almost there.”
Remy stopped beside him and swept the corridor ahead with fire as the explosive blew the door in behind them and collapsed the corridor.
Guards and curious technicians fell with equal alacrity.
“Where to?”
“Right, left, and straight,” Amaratne replied. “That’s the hub we need.”
“Stay close,” the AI instructed, and they both bolted headlong down the corridor and skidded at the turns as Remy blasted any opposition clear.
“I thought we would be more subtle about this,” Ted complained, and his nephew chuckled.
“We weren’t to know the tech had a run-in with appendicitis and was off work. Our disguise lasted the five minutes it took for one of his colleagues to want to know why he was coming into the building when he was supposed to be in the hospital.”
“Yeah, Ted,” Amaratne snarked, took cover behind Remy, and lobbed a stick onto the ceiling behind them. “What happened?”
“I can’t be everywhere at once,” the older AI replied stiffly, and the admiral pretended shock as he shot the first guard to step around a corner Remy didn’t have covered.
“You will still be able to insert the code, won’t you?” Ted asked and sounded slightly offended.
“Of course,” the admiral assured him as his teammate eliminated another security guard and proceeded to fire on the rest of the team. The sound of solids hitting metal rang loudly, and Amaratne took cover behind the droid’s solid body.
Michael Anderle - [Heretic of the Federation 03] Page 34
