Proving True
Chapter 32

In the locker room off the hangar deck I change from my coveralls into the second-skin undergarment of the marauder armor. The Amulet of the Ancients remains around my neck. I consider putting it inside the garment for only a microsecond. There’s a reason we tell everyone to take out any piercing before donning the garment. The amulet is between the armor and the singlet. Once I have the armor on, aside from the helmet, I slide the microfilament saber into a cargo pocket. With my helmet under one arm, I join the others on the flight deck adjacent to one of the shuttles.

“Good,” Freddie says, “now that we’re all here I’ll brief the operation. Silver Saber—Athena finally got a report on their USC—has been adrift for about twenty minutes. We don’t know how many people are aboard, much less their skill sets and equipment or training levels. We do know that the typical complement of a ship of that model is twenty people. We estimate that many plus a minimum of ten troopers if he was planning to board and search us. We also believe a portion of the cargo area to be filled with captured people he intends to sell as slaves as well as an unknown amount of materiel he has stolen either for his own use or to be sold.

“We are going to a) verify that ship is no longer capable of traveling under its own power, b) identify and acquire any materiel we can use to affect our own repairs and/or repurpose for our mission on Dubus III, and c) liberate any personnel being held against their will and offer them sanctuary on Dubus III and/or passage to our next port. We do not anticipate any opposition other than small arms for our flight over, but don’t discount that. The weapons we used to knock their dicks in the dirt are classified as small arms. We will be going into a potentially hot zone, so the side cannons of our vessel will be manned and will be prepared to light the area up before we open the hatch. Once the shuttle leaves Gallagher we will be breathing bottled air and we will continue to do so until we return to Gallagher. Anything to add, Captain?” I shake my head. “Anybody have any questions?”

Rivers raises a hand, “Rules of engagement?”

“If it doesn’t have its hands up, shoot to kill. Accept, neutralize, and immobilize anything that surrenders. Any others?” There are none. “Good, let’s get this done, then.” We six, Freddie, Cooper, Rivers, Lundeen, Black, and I board the shuttle. As soon as the hatch is sealed, Freddie orders, “Helmets on. Pilot, let’s go.”

We all comply.

Silver Saber is adrift. Visually, we can only identify it due to reflected light. The ship is dark. There are no running lights. There are no lights of any kind. The engine exhaust ports are dark. We approach an open airlock on the top of the ship. It is just large enough to accommodate our shuttle. But as we glide in, the side-mounted cannons on our craft are silent. There are simply no targets. A true monstrosity occupies of the small craft holding pens. I can tell it’s a weapon of some sort but I can’t tell what it is from here. But I think I’m pretty happy it wasn’t involved in the fight we just had.

Our pilot speaks, “Setting down…3…2…1…down.” There’s a thunk felt through the shuttle as it makes contact with the deck plating. “No pressurization in the landing bay or…” there’s a short hiss of escaping air “…in the shuttle. There’s no indication of any power system operational on the ship. Door opening.”

Freddie says, “Everyone out! Pilot, as soon as we’re gone, seal up and get the bird back outside.”

“Wilco, SarMajor.”

Everyone exits the shuttle. Their combat rifles ready to engage anything. I didn’t grab one before we left. Freddie hands me a rifle as I approach the hatch, “I’ll feel better if you have this.”

“Thanks,” I say as I charge the weapon. Round in the chamber, selector on safe but ready to rotate.

He points at the behemoth beside us with the muzzle of his own rifle as the shuttle backs out of the landing bay. “Any idea it is?”

“Let’s see, that’s a…” I run down the components as I can identify them. “I’m not sure, SarMajor, but it looks like a homebuilt particle accelerator. It’s uglier than a family vine, but if it’s functional—or even close to functional—we’ll take it with us.”

“If it were functional, I think he’d’a shot at us with it.”

“Agreed, maybe a log somewhere will tell us about it.”

“Sounds good, let’s move out.” And of course, closed iris valves stymie our exit from the hangar deck. There’s no power to anything, apparently not even backups for these. “Lundeen,” Freddie barks. “How long to cut through the iris valves?”

“Hard to say, Boss,” the trooper drawls. “If it’s as hard as what they’re usually made of, probably twenty minutes with the torches we have. There’s usually a manual crank and gear system, for times just like this. Yeah, see that? That’s where the crank goes in. Now we just gotta replace it.”

“And if we do, how long are we looking at then?”

“Eh, it’s about as broad as it is long. I’m saying twenty minutes either way.”

“Fine, we’ll look for the crank while you get the torch. Which is of course, back on the shuttle, which will have to come back in. Great. Just peachy.”

“Hang on, SarMajor,” I say. “I have an idea. Maybe we don’t need the exact crank handle. One of the systems I built into the armor was enhanced strength. If we can wedge something into the socket that will provide enough purchase without distorting too much…”

“We could crank it open by hand. Or,” he pulls a grenade from its holder, “we can just blow enough of a hole in it and rip it off by hand.”

“That might work too.” I have to cede the point. “You’ll want to make a depression in the door…”

“Way ahead of you. Black, hold my rifle.” He hands his rifle to Black and transfers the grenade to his left hand. He cocks his right arm back and before I can yell, “Don’t do that!” he punches the center of the closed door. It makes sense, that’s where the weakest part of the individual slats making up the door would be. But we don’t know how wide or thick those slats are. His gamble pays off, the material bows in about an inch. “Somebody hand me a few strips of tape.” He holds the grenade in the divot while Lundeen tears off a few strips of adhesive tape and the two of them secure the grenade in place. Black starts to return Freddie’s rifle but Freddie waves him off. “Take cover,” Freddie says as we all move away. Once we’re all at a safe distance he pulls the pin. “Fire in the hole!” He announces and walks away. Never run from a triggered demolition charge.

Of course, in a vacuum there’s no boom. The vibration of the explosion is felt through the deck and walls though. And of course, we see the flash as it fires. A significant portion of the energy released is dissipated. Just like anything else, it follows the path of least resistance. But the iris petals absorb enough of the energy and shrapnel. The obstacle is breached. The petals, as it happens, are about an inch thick and three inches wide. They are now blossoming inward thanks to the explosion. Of course, with the blast went the shrapnel of the grenade. Like the energy, a significant portion of it went into the landing bay as well. Fortunately, none of us was hit.

By the shrapnel, that is. One of the troopers, Rivers, looks in the hole. Freddie kicks her legs out from under her as a barrage of small arms projectiles flies through the hole.

She swears for a second then says, “Thanks, SarMajor.” She’s more embarrassed than hurt.

“You forgot the first rule of obstacles, trooper. Always cover them with direct fire systems. You didn’t see the targeting laser?”

“Not until it hit my eyes.”

“Fair enough. Will you do that again?”

“I think not, SarMajor.”

“There’s hope for you yet.” Freddie pulls a grenade from her ammo pouch and, pulling the pin, tosses it through the hole. “Grenade,” he mutters for the benefit of anyone not watching. More small arms fire flies through the hole. Until we feel a second whump through the deck plating. Freddie waves his hand in front of the hole. There’s no reaction, no fire. Freddie and Rivers begin peeling away the petals of the iris valve. Once the hole is big enough to see more of the passage beyond, we can all see the remnants of a tripod-mounted machine gun. It is now so much scrap metal.

“That was a little scary,” I mutter. “I wonder how many traps they’ll have set for us.”

“Scary?” Freddie asks. “Hell Boss, that was fun!” he says with a chuckle.

“There’s one more, ma’am.” Black answers.

“Total two?” I ask, a little incredulously.

“No ma’am, one more than we’ll replace.”

“It’s the n+1 rule,” Freddie explains. “Always expect there’s at least one you didn’t replace. Now cut the chatter and let’s go replace us a jackwagon to beat senseless.”

The ship isn’t large if one is walking. But patrolling is much slower. We move slowly and deliberately forward.

“Shouldn’t we check that?” I point to an iris valve we pass.

“We should,” Freddie answers, “but we don’t have the resources to do it right. Ideally, it would take at least a company to secure a ship this size. Lundeen, rear security.”

“Roger that.”

I later learn that “rear security” means he looks over his shoulder from time to time. Note to self, a rear-facing sensor for the next revision. And as luck would have it, the attack happens when he’s facing forward. We see the impacts on the walls, ceiling and deck. Lundeen and Rivers are each pushed forward.

“Contact rear!” Rivers shouts. We all press to the sides and most of the troopers face the rear. Lundeen and Rivers are now face down and scrambling around to see what’s shooting at us. I see six enemy troopers, three kneeling and three standing behind them with weapons pointed at us. Muzzle flashes fill my vision. A long tongue of flame leaping from the center standing trooper to engulf us mesmerizes me. The roar is deafening. I can’t help screaming. My first reaction is to run. I want to run fast, run far, and more importantly run now. So why won’t my legs move? Freddie answers my question.

“It’s not real!” his voice explodes over the noise the flamethrower is making. “There is no air in this ship! It’s an illusion of some sort. It will not hurt you! Stand fast!”

“Boss, something shot at us!”

Black yells, “Grenade out!” as it goes sailing towards our six assailants. They don’t move. We all shrink to the sides, each of us trying to make as small a target as possible. Black’s grenade explodes. And the six troopers wink out of existence.

“You were right, Lundeen,” Freddie is looking at the pock marked wall. “Ball bearings. Probably wrapped around a concussion grenade. If we take the time to search, we’ll probably replace a hidden holoProjector. Nice trick, borderline brilliant except there was no air for the flame. Odd they didn’t think of that.”

“SarMajor,” I say, “you wouldn’t have to twist my arm much to get me to say ‘let’s back out of here and destroy them with their own particle accelerator.’” Freddie turns off his perCom and then mine. He leans in and our helmets touch.

“Squats, that depends on what you want out of this. We can search and salvage, or we can leave and destroy. I’ll ask for a decision and I’ll ask for changes to be locked out.”

I can hear the irritation in his voice. I was full of fire and indignation on Gallagher but when the bullets started flying, I changed my tune. And I did it in front of the troops. That’s not allowed. “You’re right, as usual. We’ll continue the mission. But the next chance we get, we’re uploading some WARBOTs for these parts of the mission.”

“Roger all, ma’am.” He leans back and we both turn our perComs back on. “Let’s move out.” We continue forward.

We move through a corridor, what are most likely staterooms are on either side. According to the schematics we viewed earlier, the bridge is accessible by an elevator right around the corner. Black is in the lead and holds up a fist, calling a halt. He points. We see the reflection on the wall of blinking red and green lights.

Freddie is on the perCom network. “You just had to say ‘WARBOT,’ didn’t you? Coop, FR14.” Freddie passes his rifle to me as Lundeen takes Cooper’s. Both of them have the large weapons strapped across their backs and are bringing them to bear. For its power, the Fusion Rifle, Model Fourteen isn’t really that big. But a trooper who isn’t wearing powered armor would have no hope of holding one, much less aiming and firing it in a gravity field. Part of the beauty of the powered armor is that the aiming reticle appears inside the trooper’s helmet. So the trooper is at least spared having to manually align the weapon with the target. He—or she—moves the weapon until the reticle is on the target and fires it. Boom. Quick, easy, and hopefully, decisive. “The rest of you, take cover in the staterooms.” We kick open a door and spill in, ready to shoot anything. Those weapons, all fusion weapons in general, should never be fired inside a starship. I’m not sure what the effects will be if the shot doesn’t hit the target, but “catastrophic” is probably on the list of adjectives. I’m doing the math in my head. Hopefully the marauder suit will be able to withstand the fallout and any shrapnel. Hopefully.

We can hear but not see what Freddie and Cooper are doing.

Freddie says, “You toss a grenade, I’ll go first and fire as I round the corner. You need to be right on my tail.”

“Roger that, SarMajor.”

“On my mark.” They must be doing a visual count. The hallway flares with the flash of the grenade then the detonation of the FR14 blast. We feel multiple vibrations through the deck plating. That doesn’t bode well. But before the blast, there are several smaller flares. The WARBOT must have survived and is firing its weapons. After a second huge flare, which should be Cooper’s FR14, there are more of the smaller flares, but not as many. Then there’s the bright flash of a third fusion round. Then silence.

“You can come out now,” Cooper says over the comm. We exit the stateroom, holding our rifles at the ready. There’s a tattered, armored form lying face up on the deck. It’s Freddie!

“What happened?” I ask as I grab his suit and drag him towards the stateroom. I can see the charred slag where two WARBOTs had been.

“He missed,” Cooper says plainly. “His first shot went wide. The only good it did was took down the force field that used to be protecting the bridge, and put several holes in several walls. The grenade momentarily disoriented the ’bots, but they mowed him down before he could recover. I took them out from a concealed position, but he was already down.”

Athena is calling from Gallagher. “What is your status?”

“We have taken fire, one down, status undetermined. How are things there?” I point at the iris leading to the bridge and tell Cooper, “I want that opened.” And despite what is going on, I can’t help thinking like an engineer. I should design an artificial intelligence module to—depending on the situation—transmit location signals and vital signs. It would be a great help on the armor.

“Roger, I will dispatch an additional boarding party to assist. ETA fifteen minutes.”

Cooper has punched this iris like Freddie did the other.

“Roger, be advised they will be superfluous in two minutes.”

“Fire in the hole!” Cooper announces. We all move around the corner.

There is a brief plume of escaping air, followed by accelerator rounds coming through the hole. I have to grin at the thought of many of them ricocheting off the inside of the door. As before, a grenade is tossed through the hole. The accelerator rounds stop. Cooper glances through the hole in the iris. “Another remote weapon.”

“Roger that,” I tell her. “If it’s disabled, let’s get in there.”

Athena interrupts: “There are small craft exiting the stern of the ship. They are currently heading towards Gallagher. Our aid party will be delayed.”

“Understood, are there any life signs aboard? Does it look more like an escape pod or a flying bomb?”

Shawna chimes in. “I’m loading up a shuttle full of trigger pullers, Boss. We’ll decompress whatever the hells it is on our way.”

“Roger that and good hunting. Bring at least one medic with you.”

“I’ve got a few combat life savers with their bags. That will have to do for now. Do you have atmosphere yet?”

“Negative, I’ll drag Fr—the casualties to the landing bay.”

“See you soon.”

While I’ve been jawing with Athena and Shawna, Cooper and Black have finished opening the iris valve. Everything is dark in there too. I pick Freddie up and carry him back to the landing bay. “Boarding party, casualty collection point is the landing bay.”

I can’t shake the feeling that the automated weapons are talking to each other. Could they be networked? That would make sense and answer several questions. I wish there were an active computer port we could plug in to, that might shed some light on the situation but with no central power it’s an easy bet there are no shipboard computers running.

Shawna is back on the comm. “We’re away. Two bogies, fighter sized, nothing on our scanners says biologic life signs. They are evading us. They’re trying to get to our ship. Break. Gallagher, get troopers in the turrets, FR14s if available but stand by for point blank fire. I’m circling around to engage them.”

“Affirmative,” I echo. “Take them out with any available means.”

“Wilco,” Athena answers.

I finally have Freddie in the landing bay area. With the outer door open, there is a chance, albeit a small one, that he could drift out if something goes awry. I can’t have that. I replace a cargo strap and anchor him to the wall.

“Cooper, MacTaggert. I’m going to the low berth areas.” There has to be a computer running on auxiliary power somewhere.

“Roger that ma’am. Lundeen, take over as patrol lead, I’m going to back up the Captain.”

“Roger that, Coop,” Lundeen answers.

“I’ll be fine,” I protest.

“Roger that ma’am. Protocol. Yours, if I’m not mistaken.”

“Fair enough,” I sigh.

Cooper replaces me before I get to the lower level. The low berth area has twenty TMOD sarcophagi in it. Seven contain humanoids, four are males, three female. We have no idea why they are here, but we don’t want to take any chances on them, either. We zip tie the doors shut. Unless the pods are hydraulically powered, and these don’t appear to be, they can’t be opened from the inside. And we haven’t seen anybody else aboard to open them so we should be okay.

Athena comms again. “There are four life signs on deck two of that ship. They are towards the aft, the pinnace bay area.”

“Thank you for the update,” I tell her, “but concentrate right now on those fighters. I don’t think I have to remind you that if we lose Gallagher we are up shit creek without a boat?”

Shawna answers for her, “We’re getting them, don’t get your thong in a twist.” If it were anybody else, I’d probably read him or her the riot act for that. Right now I don’t have the time. “Our troopers are engaging the small craft, but they’re moving too fast and erratically.”

I motion to Cooper, “Let’s go replace us some pirates to kill.”

She grins at me, “I love it when you talk dirty, Boss.”

We get turned around a few times on our way to the pinnace bay, but we do replace it. And we replace our first target. There’s a young woman in an APE suit inside an access hatch. From the way her feet are kicking around, we surmise things aren’t going her way. They’re about to get worse.

Athena reports, “Hull breach on the bridge. Some sort of probe is being deployed. We will…” the circuit goes dead.

“Athena, if you can receive me, should the situation become untenable, you will abandon ship and signal Oedipus.” I tell her. “Landers?”

“We’re on the shuttle bay now. The medic is pulling the wounded aboard for treatment. The troopers are splitting up, half to the bridge, the other half to you. Not to belabor the obvious, but we may be losing Gallagher. Oh no! Why didn’t you tell me?!?!”

“I’ll get back to you.” The good thing about a vacuum is the ability to have semi private conversation. We don’t have time for ceremony. I grab the girl by the seat of her pants and drag her out of the access hatch. Inside her helmet I see her eyes go from anger to terror in, well, in the blink of an eye. I turn off my comms and touch my helmet to hers. She raises her empty hands. “I accept your surrender. Now finish this sentence, ‘if you’re looking for Jack, he’s…’ your turn.”

“Who’s Jack? I was captured six months ago and sold to a guy that looks like a giant ant. When this ship lost power my cell door opened and I made a break for it. Who could have guessed this pinnace was missing a flow regulator?”

“How much air do you have left?” I ask.

She looks at the display inside her helmet. “About thirty minutes.”

“Then you need to hope we replace Jack before then, don’t you?”

“I told you, I don’t know where he is! Please, you’ve got to believe me! Take me with you when you leave. I’ll be your slave if you want!” Her story may be true. But right now, I don’t care. The style of APE she wears is meant for mechanics and technicians. There are numerous grommets around the wrists for hooking tool lanyards so they don’t float away. Right now, they come in handy for zip tying her hands around a section of conduit to keep her from going anywhere. For the moment, there are too many bad people running around. An APE suit protects the wearer from the environment. It doesn’t make her any stronger.

“Stop,” I deadpan. “You’re breaking my heart. I can hardly breathe I’m crying so hard. You may not believe me, but this is for your safety as much as ours.” I pull away from her and switch my comms back on.

“Well?” Cooper asks.

“She either doesn’t know or won’t tell. But she’s got less than a half hour of air left. I bet in twenty minutes she’ll get pretty chatty. Let’s go.” We continue our trek to where we believe Engineering to be. “Gallagher, this is Gallagher Actual. Do you have a situation report on Oedipus? And be advised, this ship is still a hostile environment.”

“Gallagher Actual, this is Gallagher, Oedipus is still on the far side of the planet. They were on their way to assist until the secondary attack on Gallagher. I recommended they maintain their position at that time.”

“No argument from me. Any developments?”

“We are detecting a significant energy buildup emanating from the stern of that vessel.”

“Does that mean an engine is powering up or they have devised a very large bomb?”

“Insufficient data at this time.”

I was afraid this would happen when Star Chaser left us here! By all realistic uses of the word we were defenseless! “Roger, keep me posted. Drake, keep your eyes open and your targets sure, Cooper and I are moving towards the drives.”

“Roger that ma’am. Squawk ident B245.”

“Wilco,” I answer. “We’ll meet you there.” I glance at Cooper; she’s already entering the data on her wrist computer. If one of our troopers gets us in their targeting reticle they should get an alert on the heads up display. But the system won’t prevent the weapon from firing. Freddie and I went round and round on that. In the end, I had to concede that the chance of an enemy wearing marauder armor was greater than zero.

“By the way, ma’am. I detached a trooper to provide security for your original team. And the Sergeant Major’s body is being cared for.” The gravity of what she says hits me like a physical blow. My feet don’t move anymore. I’m really surprised my knees are holding me upright. I can’t handle—or deal with—that right now. “Acknowledged.” I hear myself say.

“Captain,” Athena is saying. “The energy reading is spiking, the sensors can not calculate…it’s dissipating. Wait, there is a collection of energy, like ball lightning, leaving Silver Saber moving away.”

“Towards the planet?”

“Negative. We’ll have to track and predict but it looks like it’s leaving this solar system.”

“Life signs on this ship?”

“The two parties from Gallagher, the seven in the TMOD area, the individual you found. No others.”

That son of a bitch has a teleportation machine! That’s why he considered it possible that we could! And I’m betting it’s still here and operational! “Roger, Drake I still want a room by room, visual search of this vessel. That pirate is slipperier than a buttered eel. And the goddess only knows what traps he left behind.”

“Agreed, ma’am.”

“Captain, Tumeric here,” she’s one of the mechanics that came over with me on the original boarding party. “The hull breaches have been identified and sealed off. We have backup power so we can restore atmosphere at your convenience.”

“Now is good.” Tumeric says nothing, but the tell tale ribbons tied to the ventilation grilles begin to fly as air floods the ship. I start to direct someone to check on that mechanic Cooper and I found. But I decide against it. She’s a bright young girl. She’ll replace a way to get her helmet off, or at least break the seal. Besides, coming over here cost me a friend. She’ll never be worth the trade. She’s on her own. “Additionally, Drake you shouldn’t replace anyone else on your security sweep. If you do, capture them. If they resist, kill them.”

“Roger.” I can tell he’s hoping to replace someone resisting.

“Athena, what’s Gallagher’s condition?”

“Barely salvageable, ma’am. The drones that breached the hull released smaller drones that moved throughout the ship destroying anything: circuitry, wiring conduits, when they encountered anything they couldn’t cut through in seconds, they turned away from it. We stopped counting at 103. All personnel are in the process of transferring to the outpost on the surface or with me on the way to Silver Saber. I have requested Oedipus send a long range comm to Star Chaser advising them of what I just told you.”

“Roger that, advise me when you’re aboard.” I do not want to have to worry about this ship. I want to destroy it. I want to fill it with oxygen just to watch it burn. But if Gallagher is unavailable, our options are limited if we want to keep interstellar capability. And we do.

“Wilco.”

Cooper and I enter the drive area. It looks like an axe-wielding maniac had a party here. Conduit is mangled and coolant hoses are slashed. There is easily a month’s worth of work before this vessel will be capable of interstellar travel again. But what is of interest to me, other than the engines, is a very large machine of some sort. Cylinders surround it. Each of them is roughly a meter in diameter and a meter and a half tall. At the center is a chair with arm and leg straps as well as a headrest.

“Coop,” I ask, “how well do you remember pre-interstellar travel history?”

“If you’re asking me if that looks like a Throne of Execution, ma’am, my answer is ‘yes.’” The Throne of Execution was used by primitive societies to put condemned citizens to death. The victim was put into the chair, immobilized and then electrical current was passed through their bodies. The goal was to stop the heart, but sometimes other things happened. That resulted in a switch from electricity to chemistry. Rather than cables, intravenous catheters were used to introduce a collection of poisons to the condemned. The humanity of such arrangements was debated for centuries. I maintain decapitation—when done quickly—is the most humane form of execution. Or a bullet to the brain. One worked on Sherri very fast.

I recognize the purpose of the cylinders. They are batteries. Powerful ones, if what Angus taught me is accurate. There is a gap large enough for a person to walk through between two of the batteries. To one side of the opening is a control panel. This looks like it must be the teleporter that Jack used. I press the button labeled “lamp test” on the panel. Nothing happens. Apparently, the batteries have been completely drained. That does explain why when Padilla appeared and disappeared from his ship Jack wasn’t overly panicked. He had some familiarity with the process. Even at the time I thought he was more surprised than alarmed.

“Captain, my shuttle has docked. We are transferring aboard.”

“Roger, Athena. Go to the bridge, I’m going to do what I can to get primary power restored. When I do, I’ll need you to bring the systems back up in an orderly fashion. When you get that done, search the computer and see if you can get those drone transporters to reclaim their little drones and come back here. Hopefully, we can figure out how to use them in the future. They are clearly a pretty potent weapon system. But only if there’s a way to ‘safe’ them.”

“Agreed.”

Soon familiar faces from Gallagher begin to enter the drive room. Someone brought the mechanic Cooper and I found. I can’t help but laugh, her hands are tied in front of her and a leash is attached to her back. I approach her, signaling her and her “keeper” to stop. “Okay, little girl, it looks like your lot is cast with ours. I don’t know your name or your story and right now I don’t care too much about either. When I found you, you were up to your waist in a pinnace giving the appearance that you know something about turning wrenches. It won’t hurt my feelings to cut you loose, it won’t hurt my feelings to stuff you into a TMOD and it definitely won’t hurt my feelings to toss you through an airlock without your APE suit. My preference is to cut you loose and put you to work because I’m going to need some help getting this ship functional again. But as I’ve lost a very good friend today, if you make a move against us I’ll pay someone to toss you to my troopers as a training aid. So what’ll it be? Meaningful employment, three hots and a cot, or a long cold sleep preceded by explosive decompression? Tick tock.”

She doesn’t hesitate. “My name is Cecilia. I don’t want any trouble. Neither do the people in the TMOD area. We were all shanghaied from Rigg’s Station, I’m sure you’re familiar with it. My specialty was GMVs, but I’ll help you here any way I can. If you’re heading in the general direction of Rigg’s I’d appreciate a lift and I’ll work off my passage.”

“I can live with that.” I look over her shoulder to the trooper holding the leash. “Free her hands but stay in her shadow. If she’s fixing something, that’s marvelous. If it looks to you like sabotage, kill her and we’ll sort it out later.” I cut my eyes back to Cecilia. “Your priorities are ship critical, life support, then propulsion. Get busy. And he’s not an engineer, he’s a trooper, but he knows sabotage when he sees it.”

I hear Athena in my headset, “Captain our pressure test is complete. This vessel has two hull breaches currently sealed off. Section D and the maneuver drive units are without atmosphere until the patches are in place. Additionally, we are getting an encrypted message from Oedipus but more importantly, you are needed in the landing bay.”

Landing bay? “Why the landing bay?”

“Lieutenant Landers is with Sergeant Major Call’s body.”

That would do it. “On my way. Decrypt the message from Oedipus and relay it to me.”

“Wilco.”

I get the message from Oedipus before I get to the landing bay. It boils down to our people on the surface contacted them when they couldn’t get anything from Gallagher. Oedipus advised them to all vacate the colony and replace places to hide in the woods with the understanding someone would come looking for them when Silver Saber left the area. Unless we had been destroyed in which case Oedipus—provided they were still able—would retrieve or support them until Star Chaser’s return. On the whole, I can’t say it was a bad idea. Unless the theropods replace and eat them. Outside the door to the landing bay I call Athena. “Advise Oedipus of our situation. If they have a way of doing so, ask them to sound the recall for the people at the outpost, at least that way they’ll all be at the colony site. And if they will come top off this vessel’s fuel tanks I will greatly appreciate them. We can also put their doctor to work.”

“Yes, ma’am. I took the liberty of making the refuel request already.”

“Very well. I’m about to enter the landing bay.” This might take a while.

“Roger.”

Entering the shuttle, I see Freddie’s body has been put on one of the makeshift stretcher holders. His helmet is off and his face has been cleaned, there’s still some blood here and there, but I have a feeling it was a lot worse. A sheet covers the rest of his body, but just looking at the way it’s laying I can remember all too well that his armor is chewed to pieces. I know it failed him, but it was never meant to take an assault like that. I take my own helmet off and set it to the side. Shawna is on her knees beside Freddie, rocking back and forth while she strokes his face. She’s keening. I touch her shoulders then stand her up and turn her around. I would have preferred to strip off my armor, but time and the situation don’t allow it. She falls into me and begins to wail. “I got you, sweetheart,” I tell her. “I loved him, too. We’re going to get through this.”

Her speech is broken by sobs. “He. Was. My. Best. Friend.”

“I know, sweetie. C’mon, let’s take a walk.” I’m crying with her.

“No!” she says. “I can’t leave him alone. He wouldn’t leave us.”

“No, he wouldn’t. He would make sure we were out of Harm’s Way first. But he’s out of any danger now. He’s as good as he can be.” I take her hand in mine and lead her from the shuttle. I grab my helmet with my other hand. We walk to Medical, when we get there one of the Physician’s Assistants takes a quick look at Shawna and injects her with a mild tranquilizer. It doesn’t take long to take effect. I don’t know exactly what he gave her, but she was already being treated for another injury, perhaps some of that sedative is still in her system.

She tries to focus on me and slurs, “I’m ready to go back to work, Captain. I can function.”

“Right, you need a while for the buzz to wear off and I don’t need any piloting done right now. You are relieved for the next twelve hours. I don’t care what you do, but stay out of any small craft and stay off the bridge.”

“That makes me the only goldbrick around here. Everyone else has something to do.”

“My problem, not yours. I have a ship to get back together. We’ll talk later.”

As I leave the med bay, Jenkins, one of my engineers, is waiting in the corridor for me. “Cap’n, do you want me to put the new girl to work? How much of a leash does she need to be on?”

“Her name is Cecilia and as far as I’m concerned she’s at your disposal. She alleges she was a captive on this tub. As we can neither confirm nor deny, we’ll take her at face value but be prepared to put two rounds in her skull if need be. I gave her a priority of effort, in particular ship critical systems, life support and propulsion.”

“Respectfully ma’am as those are mission critical systems, I’d rather have someone we know and trust doing that. I’ll put her to work on the lower priority systems. Patching holes in interior walls, general clean up, things like that.”

“SLAP, like I said, she’s at your disposal. I do still want someone—not necessarily a trooper—watching her. Just for fun.”

“Not a problem ma’am. Update in six hours?”

“Unless something that needs my attention comes up. Would you like me to grab some wrenches?”

“Uh…”

“Understood. Away with you!”