The Fringe Series Omnibus

by Rachel Aukes

  Sylvian chuckled. “There’re only twelve of us left. When you walk through the hallways, they echo.” When Heid didn’t smile, she continued. “We volunteered for this mission. You didn’t force any of us into this.”

  “Jump coordinates are programmed,” Nolin announced from the navigator’s seat. “We’re ready to jump the moment we’re clear of the Coast.”

  Heid straightened. “Then, let’s get going.”

  Stress added to her reaction time, and the return trip through the asteroid belt was not some of her best flying. In a way, she was fortunate there weren’t too many crewmembers on board to rib her about it later. As she cleared the final asteroid, Nolin sent the warship into jump speed. It would take seven jumps to cover over four hundred quadrants between the Space Coast and Terra, since there was no straight path from their current coordinates.

  Traveling through jump speed was as smooth as flying off solar power, even though the ship was traveling at point-three light speed. She used the time to prepare the escape pods, working alongside the crew not busy monitoring the jump systems and engines.

  She cringed, looking at the escape pods, small tubes that lined the ship’s hull. They were every dromadier’s worst nightmare. Escape pods had minimal life support systems, and nothing else. They were essentially logs that would travel in whichever direction they were jettisoned, and survivors would pray they’d be found before they died a miserably slow death in space. She triple-checked that the pods’ beacons were set to the encrypted channel Critch would be monitoring.

  Each tube would hold three people stuffed in it as tightly as a fresh recruit’s duffel bag. With a skeleton crew of twelve, they needed only four pods. While at Nova Colony, she’d had those pods painted flat black so they wouldn’t reflect any light. The metal in them could still be picked up on radar, but she’d figured there would be enough debris to hide within—as long as shrapnel didn’t slice through them first.

  By the time they started their fifth jump, they were a couple million clicks from Darios, and Heid could see the beautiful world through her viewing panel. It was a bittersweet sight. That was the colony that would make or break any peace treaty. She knew the Collective would never give up the garden world, but the remaining colonies needed Darion food for survival.

  The Collective. Her fingers trembled as she contemplated making the call to Barrett. If the others knew she was telling him the plan, they’d think she was crazy. She’d been betrayed by someone she cared for before, but she told herself that if she became jaded and no longer had faith in anyone, she’d become like her father. Even though it terrified her to do so, she made the call.

  When she hung up, she let out a breath and relaxed. Whatever Barrett did next was up to him. Would he betray her, or would he help?

  She glanced at her hand to see it no longer shaking, and she realized now that control was out of her ability, the stress had become dampened.

  After the sixth jump, Heid had Nolin and the crew take a break. She spent the time catching up on the news, as it couldn’t be obtained during jumps.

  No surprise, Parliament had never reached out to Seda to counter Ausyar’s terms. Vapor had loaded the full video onto the network, yet Parliament had remained quiet. The networks were filled with chatter comparing the differences between the full fourteen-minute video and the forty-second video the DZ-Five News broadcast. The edited video covered Ausyar offering terms, and Seda standing and saying, “I think we’re done here.”

  She shook her head and scrolled through other articles. Her fingers froze on a headline several pages down.

  LINA TAO PUBLICLY EXECUTED FOR TREASON

  DZ-Five News Reporter Found Guilty of Conspiring Against Citizen Welfare

  Heid’s temper roiled as she read the article. Lina had been her best friend through grade school and her roommate at the academy. She had no doubt her father had made sure Lina faced a firing squad simply to make a point—I can take everything from you.

  Her jaw tightened. She looked forward to showing him she was her father’s daughter. She would make sure he paid for all his crimes, and paid for them with his life.

  Her door chimed, and Sylvian stepped in. “Nolin is ready for jump seven.”

  Heid felt steel in her bones. “I’m ready.”

  She watched the countdown. The hours ticked by interminably slowly. When they had two hours to go, she put the ship on alert status and made sure everyone knew exactly what they needed to do the moment they came out of jump speed.

  When the moment came, a visual of the fleet—with the Unity in dead center—filled the wall screen. Heid gripped her captain’s chair. “Raise shields. Arm phase cannons.”

  “Aye, aye, Captain,” Sylvian obliged.

  “Now, run!” Heid yelled.

  Heid, Nolin, and Sylvian ran off the bridge. They sprinted—God, it felt like they were so slow—down the never-ending corridor until they reached their designated escape pod. She prayed the three other pods were already loaded and ready to go.

  Heid pressed Nolin and then Sylvian into their stations, where five-point harness held each in a standing position. As soon as both were secure, she squeezed in and set her harness. The door closed, enveloping them in total darkness. She counted to five, then hit the release button.

  The pod jettisoned down with such force that all three people inside grunted. She was sure her collarbone was broken, if not badly bruised. The pod suddenly changed direction again, this time brutally, at a right angle. Too late! Heid’s head hit something, and all sensation blinked away into single flash of light.

  Sixteen

  Just Deserts

  In orbit above Rebus Station, Terra

  Critch

  The Honorless eased in behind the Unity with the systems turned down to minimal support and no engine power. The pirate ship, painted a flat black and in stealth mode, would be nearly impossible to see by anyone not searching specifically for it. If the Arcadia didn’t arrive soon, he’d have to use a nav engine to keep from running up into the Unity’s tailpipes.

  Birk jogged onto the bridge.

  Critch looked him over. “Is it done?”

  Birk grinned and held up a black marker. “It’s done.”

  “Good. Buckle in.”

  They waited. Critch’s adrenaline-soaked muscles began to throb as they waited. But he didn’t stand. He knew he’d have only seconds to react when the Arcadia arrived. It took forty more minutes of waiting before the Arcadia blinked into view. Light glows straightaway surrounded the CUF ships.

  “Their shields are up,” Birk said. “She’s got their full attention.”

  “Wait for it,” Critch drawled. Ships vibrated as their phase cannons lit up. One shot, followed by more. “Now!”

  In the middle of the phase blast lightshow, the Honorless fired off a single, unarmed torpedo. It had no systems and no metal, so scans couldn’t pick it up. Critch’s ship was close enough, he watched the torpedo fly unscathed through the energy shields and lodge itself into the Unity’s hull.

  Critch zoomed in the viewing panel to make sure the torpedo had broken all the way through the hull.

  “Oh, yeah.” Birk grinned. “It breached for sure.”

  Critch nodded as he looked at the torpedo. Only its tail remained outside. The rest of it had broken through. He held up his finger for a brief second before tapping it on the button that would cause the torpedo to burst open. They’d removed all explosives from the device, so it would display on the Unity’s systems as a minimal breach. By the time they sent techs down to repair the hull, it would be too late.

  A flash of light caused him to wince. He looked to see the Arcadia was gone. The black vacuum of space smothered flames from the exploding ship. Left in the warship’s place was a sea of debris, flying outward. Ever since he was a kid, he’d found it a bit unnerving there was no sound in space. Plenty to see, but nothing to hear. He used to blast classical music to fill the void. Now, he had it play softly in the background.<
br />
  He entered the frequency for the escape pods and noticed four pod beacons online. He was relieved to see they’d ejected in time. “Now, let’s go get our girl before the fleet discovers her.”

  Sneaking up behind the Unity had been nerve-wracking. Flying around the fleet and through shooting debris while in stealth mode was damn near the riskiest thing Critch had ever done. Well, that, and searching for survivors in a minefield. Then, he’d been so careful to avoid mines that he’d never even considered a dead soldier could be gripping a grenade without its pin. With the explosion’s damage to his upper body, Critch had felt—and looked—like ground meat for months.

  People often asked him why he didn’t have surgery to remove the scars. They had no idea he needed those scars—when he looked in the mirror every day, the scars reminded him of everything he’d done and everyone he’d killed. He’d never be able to erase those memories and so erasing the physical scars felt like a lie.

  Critch had chosen to pilot the Honorless on this mission. Gabe was a good pilot, but Critch was the best. If the fleet detected them, they’d be dead, plain and simple. It’d be impossible to escape an entire fleet of ships that had their cannons already armed, targeted in their direction.

  “Birk, I need you to monitor every ship of that fleet,” Critch ordered. “Let me know if even a patrol ship sneezes.”

  “I’m on it, Boss.”

  Critch flew the pirate ship—a highly-modified yacht—slowly around the fleet, using the nav engines on their lowest settings to minimize their moisture trail. Stealth made a ship invisible to scanners, nothing more. The key to not being seen was the flat black paint that didn’t reflect anything. Even then, if someone happened to be looking in the right direction, they could notice the temporary disappearance of a star as the Honorless passed between.

  On today’s mission, the likelihood of being seen was much higher, as every CUF ship over Rebus Station had eyes on the debris, shooting at any remaining chunks of the warship with a trajectory heading toward the fleet. Worse, if any shrapnel was headed for the Honorless, he couldn’t shoot it without giving away his position. He’d reinforced the rilon hull, but a big enough chunk of metal could destroy his ship.

  Critch respected Gabriela Heid, liked her even, but if it came down to choosing the safety of his crew or the escape pods, he’d leave the pods to the abyss. He rubbed his prickly jaw. It was exactly that kind of thinking that made him deserve the scars he bore.

  “I have ship movement,” Birk said.

  “Did they see us?”

  “Hold on. No, it looks like two patrol ships are making their way to the Unity. I’m guessing someone is wondering why the Unity went silent.”

  It took over an hour to navigate around the fleet, keeping a wide berth. During that time, the fleet stayed in position, though Critch wondered how much chatter was taking place in regard to the Unity.

  The Arcadia had expanded to cover an area of several thousand clicks. If the pods didn’t have beacons, he’d never find them. As it was, two pods had jettisoned off the warship at roughly the same time and velocity and in the same direction, keeping them within a hundred click radius. The other two were several thousand clicks apart, and splitting farther every minute.

  All four beacons were identical, so he had no way of knowing which pod Heid was in. That meant he had to pick them up as he found them, placing no pod as a higher priority. He chose to pick up the pair of pods first.

  They drew nearer to the first pod, and Critch sucked in a breath through clenched teeth. “That’s not good,” he said.

  Birk looked up from his panel and whistled. “I sure hope the others are in better shape.”

  Critch didn’t even bother getting any closer. The pod had been cleanly cut in half by a sheet of the Arcadia’s hull, which had lodged in one of the halves. Streaks of blood marred the hull. The three crewmembers on board never stood a chance.

  The second pod was within ten clicks of the first one, which was surprising given the massive force of the explosion. This one had a big dent, but Critch couldn’t make out if the pod had been breached.

  Critch opened the ship’s internal comms. “Nat, Burl, prepare for one pod retrieval. We’ve got one ready for pickup.”

  “We’re at our stations now,” Nat responded.

  Critch brought the ship up alongside the escape pod. From the side viewing panel, he could see Nate extend the ship’s crane and close the claw around the pod. The crane bent around to slide the pod inside the open freight door, which Burl manned, though Critch didn’t bother checking the ship’s internal monitors.

  When the freight door closed, Critch received a comm via Burl’s space suit. “Pod is secure. Do you want me to refresh the air and open the pod?”

  “No,” Critch replied. “Wait to air the bay until we’ve retrieved all the pods. They have air. They can wait until we land.”

  They switched direction and headed off for the nearest pod. Debris slammed into the hull, and Critch ducked. “Where did that come from?”

  Birk flipped through his scans. “The fleet’s breaking up the larger debris, likely hoping they can send some of the bigger chunks to burn up in the atmosphere.”

  “They’re sucking at it,” Critch grumbled. “They’re turning Terra’s orbit into a junkyard, that’s what they’re doing.” He sighed and refocused on the third pod.

  Critch sped up slightly to get to it. He knew he was pushing his luck flying around a debris zone with the fleet within shooting distance. The third pod was in a congested mess of debris. It was scratched, but looked in surprisingly good shape.

  He grimaced. He didn’t like the idea of extending the crane into that clutter, and the thought crossed his mind to leave the pod. Instead, he tapped the internal comms. “Nat, Burl, prepare for one pod retrieval. We’ve got another one ready for pickup.”

  “We’re ready to go,” Nat replied.

  As Critch neared the debris, small chunks bounced off the ship. He winced at every thump and vibration. He watched the crane extend. Debris knocked it around. When what looked like a bunk hit it, he thought the crane was going to snap, but it held. It looked like Nat sped the crane up to move things along faster. The moment the crane had the pod, it zoomed back to the ship.

  Three minutes later, Burl’s voice reported, “Pod is secure.”

  “Good,” Critch said and immediately banked to head off for the fourth and final pod. It was the farthest from the fleet, which was why he’d left it for last, knowing it would be the easiest to retrieve. It took longer than expected to catch up to it, as it was moving at a good clip.

  When they reached it, there was no debris in the vicinity, making it an easy catch. The pod looked in perfect condition. “Nat, Burl, prepare for one pod retrieval.”

  The pod slowly spun as it flew. When it spun around halfway, Critch frowned. “No, cancel that. No more pod pickups.”

  The pod door was missing. The locks had likely failed upon jettison. Critch could make out two frozen bodies inside. The third body would have been strapped to the door, and was likely hundreds of clicks away by now.

  “Brr,” Birk said. “That’s why you’ll never get me into one of those banana peels.”

  “No kidding,” Critch said in agreement, and tapped the comms. “Everyone to your stations. We’re heading to Terra.”

  The Honorless made faster time back to the planet, since Critch could steer farther from the fleet.

  As they approached Terra’s orbit, Critch began to program landing sequences for Seda’s spaceport.

  “Whoa, we have major movement going on right now,” Birk said.

  Critch tensed. “What’s happening?”

  “The fleet’s leaving orbit. I mean, the Unity’s not moving, of course, but the rest of them are following the second warship.”

  Critch considered for a moment. “Who’s the commandant on the second warship?”

  “No idea. Whoever it is doesn’t seem to have much interest in breathi
ng down Terra’s neck.”

  “We’ll take what we can get,” Critch said, and then broke through the atmosphere.

  After the Honorless landed, Critch headed back to the cargo hold, where Burl was opening the pods.

  Critch felt relief when he saw Heid’s long dark hair as she crawled out of one. He strode over and helped her to her feet. “How’s it feel to be dead?”

  She touched her forehead and winced. “It hurts more than I expected.”

  He reached forward and lightly touched the swollen, red area. “That’s some bump. I’d bet you’ve got a concussion. But you could’ve gotten worse. You saved your crew’s lives by giving up the Arcadia.”

  She seemed pleased, and then glanced over at the pods. The five other crewmembers they’d retrieved seemed conscious and well. She frowned. “There are only two pods.”

  He swallowed. “Two pods were breached.”

  “No.” She closed her eyes and turned away.

  “Losing six lives instead of hundreds should be counted as a win,” Critch said.

  She sighed. “Losing good people is always a loss.” A thought seemed to hit her, and she turned abruptly to Critch. “And Ausyar?”

  “A life that won’t be missed,” he replied.

  She nodded. “But I still feel for all the other lives on the Unity.”

  “I know,” he replied and felt a small pang that he didn’t share the same feeling.

  When Burl opened the freight door, Critch helped Heid walk down the ramp.

  “By the way,” he began. “The fleet’s broken orbit. They’ve established out by the moon.”

  “Oh?” Heid seemed surprised at first, then pleased.

  “I take it you have a friend on that warship?”

  Her smile spread. “I think so.”

  Seventeen

  An Unexpected Gift

  Torrent Headquarters, Terra

  Reyne