Slipspace: Harbinger Page 12

  Admiral Marr sat behind his desk working at his terminal, his silver-gray beard obscuring the side of his face.

  “Come in, Captain. Take a seat if you’d like.”

  He helped himself to one of the guest chairs and by the time he had settled into his seat, the Admiral had turned off his terminal and redirected his attention to his visitor. It had only been two days since Amado had seen the Admiral in person, but in that short amount of time, the man seemed to have aged as if several years had passed. It was the stress of the job, Amado knew. While he had the responsibility of just a single ship and crew, the Admiral commanded an entire battle group of over a dozen ships He personally oversaw an area of space that included six separate planets. Amado could only imagine that level of stress, especially with one of those planets nearly destroyed.

  “I’ve read your reports, Captain. Good work with the Verasai.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Amado replied. “It would seem these Remali are a likely suspect. The Alliance knows next to nothing about them, but the Verasai claim to have history with them.”

  Marr sat back in his chair. “Yes, Captain, I would agree. I have recommended to Central Command that we attempt to make contact with them. The coordinates from the Verasai should prove a solid start. Once I receive their approval, which I anticipate within the next few hours, you may consider yourself under orders to find the Remali and investigate.”

  Amado gave no immediate reply. His mind remained focused on the mission he was about to undertake and its potential ramifications. Any effort to track down those responsible for this massacre had to be undertaken carefully.

  “Is there a problem, Captain?”

  “I am concerned, sir,” Amado started, “about the chances of mission success. If these Remali are, in fact, responsible, then they likely possess superior technology and firepower than we do. If they are as reclusive as rumored, then finding anything out from them could prove nearly impossible.”

  “And potentially fatal,” Marr added.

  Cody’s face flushed red. Why the Admiral would bring that specific point up, he wasn’t sure, but he also knew better not to delve too deep into questioning him.

  “With that in mind, Captain, I would suggest you attempt to find a nonviolent means by which to run your investigation.”

  “That had been a part of my plan, Admiral.”

  He didn’t like sounding as though he were contradicting his superior officer. But even so, this feeling of being on the defensive was not one he was used to. Had he not been chosen for this assignment because he had the ability to get the job done? Yes, he had proven himself an able tactician during the war, but since then, he had tried to show his superiors that he didn’t always chose to shoot first.

  “Good. Remain in system until we receive confirmation from CentCom. Dismissed.”

  Amado had not expected such an abrupt end to the meeting, but given the circumstances, he gave the Admiral the benefit of the doubt. The Admiral was just stressed. That was all. He stood and stepped out, leaving the Admiral to his work. He had a good half hour or so before he and Labonne were scheduled to return to the ship.

  October 15, 2832

  13:40

  Bellerophon - Observation gallery

  LABONNE TOOK another sip of her tea as she let the scene in front of her unfold. It was almost as good as being in the cockpit. The large bay windows gave her a hell of a view of Artez and the rest of the fleet and she took it in as she rested in the lounge chair. A few others shared the space with her, but everyone kept their distance and enjoyed their down time in their own way.

  The pilot had come looking for serenity. Pulling double shifts in the cockpit had, she forced herself to admit, taken its toll and while the majority of the search and rescue had been transferred over to the Bellerophon, it would be quite a while before all of the debris had been recovered.

  A pair of fighters slid into view from the left and crossed in front of her. About half way down the gallery length, they executed a hard turn to port and corrected their vectors before firing their main engines and burning away from the ship. Labonne watched as the ships grew smaller until she lost sight of them entirely.

  From this far out, the Mjöllnir appeared not much bigger than her fingernail, a silhouette against the light of the Artez Star. Crewed by ten thousand and supported by hundreds of fighter craft, as well as dozens of support vessels, the ship was a beast, she knew. But at the same time, it seemed so terribly insignificant, a mere speck in the grander scheme of the universe.

  “May I join you, Colonel?”

  She deflated at the sound of the familiar voice. “If you must, Admiral,” she said, not bothering to look at him.

  A moment later, the couch she had been resting on shifted under the added weight of her father. Her eyes remained locked forward, focused on the activity outside. The Alliance ships went about the work, while the Verasai fleet kept a respectful distance. Probably their smartest move yet. They had no right to be here and whatever bag of shit lies they had fed to the Captain were just that. Lies. Their presence here tarnished the memory of the dead, the innocents who had come to live. Colonial life was not easy by any measure, but they had answered the call and accepted the challenge, only to be slaughtered.

  “It’s all so fucked up,” she muttered to no one in particular.

  “Yes, it is,” the Admiral responded.

  “It seems so peaceful out there. Just a group of ships, going about their business and doing their work. But it’s not. Out there it’s chaos.”

  “Perhaps now you understand why I opposed your entrance into the Corps.”

  She sighed. Didn’t matter when or where they were, he would never stop pushing this issue. Rolling her eyes, she turned toward him.

  “Are we really going to have this conversation again, Admiral?”

  He shook his head. “I’d rather not fight with you, Jenna. I just came here to talk and give you some heads up.”

  “About what?”

  “I’ll be sending the Mjöllnir to find and investigate the Remali to see if they’re connected to what happened here.”

  She turned back to the gallery windows. A pair of fighters had moved into view and seemed to be on some kind of approach vector to the Bellerophon. They flew in a tight formation as they buzzed the observation deck. She hadn’t heard of the Remali before the Captain had mentioned it on the flight over. Apparently, they held territory out beyond the Verasai confederacy.

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  “You haven’t seen the intelligence reports I have, Jenna. The Remali are rumored to be technologically advanced, and highly reclusive. This mission...” His voice trailed off.

  Labonne caught where he was going. “Could be very dangerous.”

  “It goes without saying that I’m concerned for your safety.”

  “Admiral...”

  “I just came here to offer you an opportunity to transfer off the Mjöllnir. I know I can’t persuade you to hang up your wings, but if you transfer now, I will see to it you are assigned to whatever post in the Alliance you want.”

  For once at least he wasn’t trying to control her career or force her to resign her commission. At least this time he was offering an alternative she might have accepted. It didn’t matter though. He still refused to respect her wishes. At least this hadn’t immediately put her on the defensive. The corners of her mouth turned upward at the thought of an appropriate response.

  “Thank you, Admiral. I accept your offer.”

  Marr perked up and she knew he had not anticipated this response from her. “Name it, Colonel.”

  “I choose to command Gryphon Squadron, currently assigned to the Mjöllnir.”

  Disappointment fell across the Admiral’s face. “Jenna...”

  “Admiral,” she interrupted. “I don’t know why you are so eager to get me off that ship. But I belong there. I am happy there. I wish you could see that. I wish you could be supportive of my choices. I
wish...”

  She stopped herself short.

  “Wish what?”

  She paused, hesitating over what to say next. Was it wrong for a daughter to want her father to be proud of her?

  “I wish,” she sighed as she pushed herself out of the couch and onto her feet. “I could find a way to make you understand. This is what I want to do. I’m good at it. It is what I am meant to do.”

  The Admiral rose to his feet. She heard him take a step or two behind her as she headed for the hatch. “And when you die out there in that cockpit, what then, Jenna?”

  She winced. But she did not step.

  “If I die out there, Admiral, then I will have died defending the Alliance while doing what I love.”

  The hatch swung shut behind her. It was harsh, she knew. But it was also the truth. Who was he to stand in the way of her doing what she did best? Who was he to dictate what she could and could not do?

  He was her father, dammit. Didn’t he have an obligation to her? To love her unconditionally, to support her unconditionally, and to be proud of her regardless of what she chose for herself, especially when she had dedicated her life to the defense and protection of others around her? Why was that so hard for him to understand? Why could he just not be proud of her?

  She rounded the corner and found a hatch to a public head. Slipping in, she fell back against the wall and slid down to a seated position as her eyes began to water. Why the hell did she suddenly care? Had that been the issue all along? Had she been seeking his approval this whole time and just not known it? And why the hell could he just not give it to her?

  As the tears flowed free down Jenna Labonne’s face, her composure collapsed and she wept.

  October 15, 2832

  14:35

  Mjöllnir – Locker Room

  IN ALL THE years Cassie had known Marcus Foster, she could count on one hand the number of times he deviated from a schedule. When the demands of his duties did not interfere, he was a man of routine, of precise scheduling and deviation was unacceptable. So, it came as no surprise when she found him in the Marine locker room changing out of his combat gear and into his duty uniform. His battalion drills would have ended five minutes ago. He would allow himself fifteen minutes to wash and change, and then proceed to the mess hall where he would sit down to a mid-afternoon meal.

  “Am I intruding?”

  Foster shook his head. “It’s a unisex.”

  As a man of few words, most took Foster’s silence as being off putting. But she knew better.

  “I came to check on you. Unofficially. Off the record. There’s no telling what we’re about to walk into.”

  Foster pulled his sweat drenched shirt off and tossed it into the hamper.

  “We’ve been through worse,” he said. “If we can survive the Ralgon, I can’t say I’m worried about these Remali.”

  They had survived the war albeit barely. Even after all these years, Foster had made no effort hide the ugly scar on the left side of his face and slowly, her eyes traced the scar down his neck and across the remains of his pectoral and down his side. Cassie had known him for so long, and known she had hurt him. But up until now she had never known just how bad the wound really was. Yes, the knife had been broken and unclean, but she never would have thought she would have enough strength to drive that blade as far as she had. She had been told the second stab had been the one that took his shoulder and forced him to take on the mechanical prosthesis he now utilized.

  Like so many other moments from the Siege of Sol, Cassie had no memory of the incident. She had learned that although the injury to his shoulder hadn’t been that bad on its own, he had found her so far away from the remains of the camp that in the time it had taken them to make it back and signal for help, the wound had become infected and the infection had spread to the joint and the rest of the arm.

  In the aftermath, after she came out of whatever psychological black box she had been in, he never showed any anger towards her. He never held her accountable for her actions. Her psychologists and therapists had told her it wasn’t unheard of for memories of traumatic experiences to be blocked, and that while it was okay for her to feel guilt for her actions, it did her no good to dwell on them. She had tried so hard to move on, but she never could and her career had suffered and while Cody and those around her judged her and told her what she needed to be doing, Foster had stayed by her side supporting her and never once had he judged her. It was no wonder she felt closer to him than anyone else in her life.

  “What about you,” Foster asked. “I get the feeling that you’re anticipating another conflict.”

  “I don’t know what to expect. I’m not excited about the prospect of this escalating into something worse. But at the same time, I’m not about to let our enemies roll over us. It’s just…”

  He remained silent while she struggled to find the words.

  “It’s that given my post and this ship’s mission, I’m in a position for the first time in my life where a war could be started or prevented based on a decision I make.”

  Foster nodded. “Well, I might not be in a position where my decisions could start a war. That’s not my job. But it is my job to win them when they come. I am very good at what I do and no matter what happens, I will always have your back.”

  October 15, 2832

  15:40

  Mjöllnir - Guest Quarters

  THE ONE THING Vivine Melor hated about this ship was the length of the decks. Yes, they had a well-designed elevator and lift system that could easily move a person from one end of the ship to another in a matter of minutes. But those trams only stopped at so many places, which meant she had to shuffle down the corridors to get to her ultimate destination.

  She only hoped the reward would be worth the effort.

  Melor pressed the chime button on the control pad next to the hatch and waited. After a few seconds, the hatch lock clanked open and Melor let herself in. Her mother had found a seat in the main living room, ignoring the couch and instead choosing to make use of one of the chairs that had been specifically designed for the Verasai body. It had been a nicety that had not been planned in the original inventory of the ship’s furniture. But being one of the ship’s designers gave her some latitude and she was glad to see it put to good use. Even if it had been intended for her own comfort.

  “I was wondering if you’d come by to visit,” Miresh said.

  “I’m not here on a social call, Mother.”

  “Shame. We really should take some time to catch up.”

  Vivine tossed the tablet down on the coffee table. The unit slid a bit and stopped just in front of her mother’s drink.

  “What’s this?” she asked.

  She glared at her. “The data you gave us. It appears legit.”

  “Of course, it does. What’s the problem?”

  Vivine huffed. This coyness did not suit either of them and time was wasting. If the Mjöllnir was going to be taking this mission, she needed answers and needed them now.

  “What’s the catch, Mother?”

  Miresh took the tablet in one hand, her drink in another. “I don’t follow.”

  “Of course, you don’t,” Vivine snorted. “But see if you can follow this- I just came from a briefing. We’ve been ordered to find the Remali. That order came based on confirmation from your intelligence and we both know how willing you are to cooperate with outsiders. I want to know what your game is.”

  Miresh set the tablet back down and stood. “I think, my child, that it’s far past time for you to come home with me.”

  Vivine slid a step back. Of all the responses she could have anticipated, that had not been one of them. When her mother had disowned her, the declaration had fallen just short of official exile. They hadn’t spoken in years and now she wanted her to come back home?

  “Why?”

  Miresh stood, coming only a couple of centimeters taller than her. “Isn’t it enough for a mother to want her child home with her?”


  “Not from you.”

  “It’s been on my mind for a while, Vivine.”

  “You could have called. No. Cut this bullshit and tell me the real reason.”

  Miresh shifted into her ‘I’m your mother, do what I say’ look that Vivine knew all too well. But whereas she might have shrunk under the weight of that stare as a child, today it only emboldened her. Taking a breath to affirm her resolve, she stood up, taller straighter, imposing just as much of her presence on her mother as she could, even with the height disadvantage.

  “Why?”

  This time, perhaps for the first time in her life, Vivine watched her mother shrink in front of her.

  “Because I know how dangerous the Remali are and I don’t want you anywhere near them.”

  She loves you and doesn’t want to see you come to harm.

  “You don’t seem to have a similar concern for Captain Amado or his ship. Why send them there if you suspect violence and danger?”

  “I won’t deny myself the tactical advantage of keeping my opponents off-balance by fighting with one another.”

  The admission hung between them for several moments and everything made sense as Vivine pieced it together.

  “You’re expecting the Alliance and the Remali to come to blows.”

  Miresh nodded. “I’d be disappointed if they didn’t.”

  “And you want to keep me out of it.”

  “What kind of a mother would I be if I didn’t look out for my daughter’s well-being?”

  Melor ignored the question “You falsified the data you provided the Alliance, so they’d go hunt the Remali for you, didn’t you?”

  Miresh shook her head. “I did not falsify the data. Nor did I order any of the people under my command to do so. nor did I arrange for any third party to falsify the information.”

  “How can I be sure?”

  “You’ll just have to decide, Vivine, whether or not you can trust me.”

  It grated on her like the sound of metal sliding against metal.

  “Mother,” she offered, attempting a different approach. “I will not go back home with you. I have a responsibility to this ship. It has been ordered into Remali space and where it goes, I go. So, before you leave and we depart, I ask you again, is this data genuine?”