Friends in Command (Sons of the Starfarers: Book IV) Page 14

She cut the transmission. If anyone had heard her, though, they didn’t respond.

  “Starfire is dropping from orbit,” said Apollo.

  “How’s our ETA?”

  “A little under two minutes.”

  “Commander,” said Jason, “the Tamerlane and Hulagu are opening fire on us. I’m launching countermeasures, but it’s going to be hot.”

  Mara nodded. “Make evasive maneuvers and get us to the Starfire as quick as you can, Thetana. Can you get a targeting lock on the engineering wing from this distance?”

  “Not quite.”

  “Commander,” said Phoebe, “we’re receiving orders to stand down and target the outriders.”

  “From who?”

  “Admiral Paris of the Maia-1.”

  Dammit! Mara swore silently. Couldn’t the other commanders see what the pirates were up to? They didn’t want to fight—they just wanted to nab the Starfire and bug out. But if the rest of the fleet wouldn’t listen, then it was up to her and the crew of the Merope-7 to disable the Starfire on their own.

  “Ignore him and stay the course. We’ll sort out the court-martials later.”

  A series of explosions rocked the ship, nearly throwing her from her seat. Plasma fire flashed outside the window, while inside, alarms began to blare.

  “Damage report!”

  “Our starboard nacelle has taken heavy damage,” said Mathusael, “but the repair bots are on the scene and containing it before it spreads. Armor has been weakened all along the starboard side.”

  “There’s too much fire for our countermeasures,” yelled Jason.

  “Punch it, Apollo! Get us to the Starfire now!”

  Outside the forward window, the massive bulk of the Starfire began to fill the view. Another explosion sounded, this one much closer.

  “Hit on decks eleven and twelve,” said Mathusael. “Hull is damaged, but no breach.”

  “Hang on,” said Apollo.

  The outside view spun as he threw them into a gradual barrel roll. The planet was close enough that Mara couldn’t help but feel disoriented by the maneuver. The wreckage of the Merope-3 had just hit the upper atmosphere, and was starting to streak as meteoric debris. She couldn’t tell how close they were to making planetfall themselves, but definitely too close for comfort.

  “Thetana, can you get that targeting lock already?”

  “On it, Commander. Just give me—there! Targeting lock acquired!”

  “Fire!” Mara shouted.

  A loud wuft-wuft sounded through the bulkheads as streams of plasma fire streaked from the Merope-7’s guns toward the Starfire. They were followed up seconds later by a barrage of missiles. The roar of the rockets died back down to silence as the missiles blasted off through the vacuum of space.

  “Shots away!”

  The plasma shots hit first, scorching the armor just behind the battleship’s main reactor. They didn’t do much damage, but with luck, they would melt the structural integrity enough to allow the missiles to get through. The missiles sped toward the target, guided by the nav-computer—

  —then, with a sudden flash of light, the Starfire vanished.

  “No!” Mara screamed, slamming her fist against the armrest. “No, no, no!”

  On the main screen, the red dots disappeared one by one. Gulchina’s men had succeeded in capturing the Starfire, and there was no reason for the other ships to stay. They jumped out along with the outriders, leaving the Merope-7’s missiles to fall uselessly to the planet below.

  “Commander,” said Apollo, “if we stay on our present course, we’ll hit the atmosphere in three minutes. Shall I stabilize our orbit?”

  “Do it,” Mara said, leaning back in her chair. She covered her face with her hands.

  “There’s a lot of debris at our current altitude. Should I—”

  “Do whatever you have to, Lieutenant,” she snapped. “Take us to a higher orbit and park us wherever you can.”

  Silence fell over the bridge. The alarms continued to blink, but the only sound was the patter of small debris as it bounced harmlessly off the hull.

  “It’s not your fault, Mara,” Mathusael said softly. “You did your best.”

  She rose to her feet on shaking legs. “Maybe,” she allowed. “But it wasn’t enough, was it?”

  No one had an answer to that.

  The Healing Ice

  Mara lay back in her cot and stared at the featureless ceiling. The whisper of the ventilators and the hum of the Merope-7’s systems through the bulkheads was all that broke the silence for her. Outside her tiny porthole, the planetscape shone white and yellow, but it held no interest for her—nothing did. All she wanted was to be left alone.

  We were so close, she thought to herself. And yet, we were always one step behind. Now Gulchina had the flagship of the Confederate fleet as well as their most closely guarded military secret, with nothing to stop them from selling out to the Imperials. Aaron was a babbling wreck, the Merope-7 was a ship without a captain, and the burden of command fell to Mara, along with all the blame for how badly things had gone.

  I never should have joined the Resistance. The only reason she had was to avenge her father, and look where that had gotten her. Now, it was too late to leave—and even if she could, it wouldn’t turn her back from the monster she’d become.

  The faces of the officers she’d executed mingled with the faces of the pirates she’d shot while escaping from the Starfire. Why was it so easy to kill them? Why did she find it so damn satisfying to pull the trigger? She was never supposed to be a killer—she was supposed to be a wife and mother, raising a family somewhere beyond the reach of this damn war. The old Deltan saying came readily to her mind: A strong family shines brighter than all the stars. Well, if that was true, then her life was as dark as a black hole.

  The computer terminal chimed, indicating a private call. It was Jason, calling from the bridge. She reached over and switched it on.

  “Commander Soladze here. What’s going on?”

  “We have a transmission from Admiral Tully, Commander. She wishes to speak with you.”

  Mara sat up slowly and ran a hand through her hair. “Very well, Thetana. Send it here.”

  The holoscreen monitor flickered on, revealing a short, elderly woman with wispy gray hair and a cybernetic implant that covered her ears and ran across the back of her head. She nodded to Mara and saluted.

  “Greetings, Commander Soladze. I hope I did not catch you at an inconvenient time?”

  “Not at all,” said Mara, cursing herself for looking like such a wreck. It was too late to do anything about it now, though.

  “I’ve reviewed your battle report, Commander. In addition, I’ve read over Lieutenant Nova’s brief on your operations in the Shiloh Rift and found it… enlightening.”

  “I’m sorry we didn’t get here sooner, Admiral. Gulchina—”

  “It was a mistake for High Command to enlist her support. That mistake does not lie with you, Commander. After reading both reports, I find no reason to censure you. On the contrary, I believe your decisions were laudable and exemplary—both yours and Captain Deltana’s.”

  Mara nodded, biting her lip.

  “Of course,” Admiral Tully continued, “there are those in the fleet who would have you court martialed. I have no doubt that given a proper hearing, both you and the captain would be exonerated, but the loss of the Starfire has put us in an extremely delicate position. We cannot afford to lose any officers now, either to the enemy or to our own internal politics. Therefore, since Captain Deltana is unable to assume his post, I am promoting you and making you captain of the Merope-7, effective immediately.”

  “Thank you, Admiral,” said Mara. She let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding.

  “I don’t want to spread rumors, Captain, so I trust you will hold what I am about to tell you in confidence.”

  “Of course.”

  “I have just learned that Imperial advance fleet is significantly clos
er than we expected them to be. If our latest intelligence is correct, the Imperials’ first strike is imminent. I doubt we’ll be ready for them when they do, but I don’t want it to come as a surprise.”

  A chill shot down Mara’s spine. The weight of her newfound command now seemed almost unbearable.

  “I understand, Admiral. I’ll do my best to not disappoint you.”

  “I trust that you will, Captain. Do you need any replacement personnel for your crew?”

  Mara thought for a moment. With Aaron gone and her serving as captain in his place, she would have to choose a new first officer to replace herself. Katya would be a good fit for that position, but as an intelligence officer she fell outside of the fleet command structure. Everyone else seemed to work well together, and she didn’t want to upset that dynamic. Although, if she had to choose one of them to be her second-in-command, she knew exactly who it would be.

  Mathusael.

  “With your permission, Admiral, I’d like to make our chief engineer my executive officer. I suspect he’ll advance one of his subordinates to fill his current position, in which case we’ll need another engineer.”

  “Understood. And Captain Soladze, if I may speak personally for a moment, I think you’ve made an excellent choice.”

  Mara nodded. “Thank you, Admiral. I hope you’re right.”

  * * * * *

  Mara didn’t expect much when she stepped into the medical bay. Even so, she couldn’t help but feel a knot in her stomach as the doors hissed shut behind her.

  Pallas and his commandos were sitting on the examining tables near the front of the room. They were dressed in light fatigues and receiving their shots in preparation to go back down into cryo. As always, Pallas’s eyes were covered, but he still recognized her and nodded silently as she entered.

  “Hello, Sergeant. How are your men?”

  “Doing well, Commander. Or should I say, Captain?”

  Mara smiled humorlessly. “News gets around fast, doesn’t it?”

  “If I don’t keep up with it now, I’ll have that much more to catch up on when you wake me again. Congratulations, Captain.”

  That’s right, Mara thought. He doesn’t remember anything from the last few weeks, because he and his men were in cryo. It was strange how cryofreeze could alter a person’s perceptions of time and space.

  Phoebe stepped out from the quarantine section and motioned for Mara to enter. Mara saluted Pallas and followed Phoebe into the secluded space.

  “How’s Aaron?”

  “Not very well, I’m afraid,” said Phoebe. “Here, take a look.”

  She motioned to the bed where Aaron was strapped in. He wore only a thin patient’s gown, and was clearly unconscious. Even so, his fingers still twitched, and his face ticked every so often, making Mara cringe. Dozens of wires were plugged into his body, connecting to a suite of instruments above him. His head was tilted forward ever so slightly to allow a massive tube to plug into the neural jacks in the back of his head. It looked as if he were slowly being assimilated by the computer and turned into a machine.

  “How bad is it?” Mara asked.

  “I hate to say this, but the damage is irreversible. His neural pathways are so frayed and tangled that he’s lost almost all of his higher brain function. He’s getting worse, too. It takes almost everything we have just to keep him from deteriorating further.”

  Mara’s stomach tightened. She drew in a sharp breath and struggled to remain composed. Dammit, Aaron! Why did you have to do this to yourself?

  “Is there any chance you can stabilize him?”

  “We could, but it would turn him into a vegetable. He’d need medical care for the rest of his life.”

  “Shit,” Mara said under her breath. She clenched both hands tightly into fists.

  “I’m sorry, but that’s the best we can do.”

  “Don’t tell me that,” she said. “There’s got to be something else—there has to be.”

  “I don’t know what to tell you,” said Phoebe. “Maybe the Imperials have some cutting-edge treatment that could save him, but I’ve never seen—”

  “Just shut up and let me think!” Mara snapped.

  She regretted the outburst almost immediately. Phoebe jumped back as if stung. Her eyes widened, and she looked less like a military officer and more like a frightened little girl.

  “I’m sorry, Lieutenant,” Mara apologized. “I was out of line.”

  “No, that’s fine. I—”

  “It was not fine, Lieutenant. I was out of line and I’m sorry.”

  “Y-yes, Captain. Of course, Captain.”

  Mara sighed and stared through the large plexiglass window of the quarantine area at the rest of the medical bay. Phoebe’s assistants were checking over Pallas and the other commandos, making sure that everything was in order to administer the chemical cocktail that would allow them to revive from cryofreeze quickly. A part of her envied them. In cryo, they would sleep for weeks or months, perhaps even years. Mara wished that she could join them—it was the only sure escape from the mess she was in right now.

  Something in her mind clicked. She stood up a little straighter as realization struck her.

  “Can you freeze him, Phoebe?”

  Phoebe frowned. “Freeze him?”

  “Yes, freeze him in cryo. Will that stabilize him?”

  “I think so, Captain. But it won’t fix anything.”

  “It won’t cause any further damage, though, either,” said Mara. “And if there’s a cure for his condition, it will buy us the time we need to find it.”

  “I-I suppose.”

  “How soon can you do it?”

  Phoebe checked her wrist console. “The commandos aren’t scheduled to go down for another hour. If it’s just a simple matter of putting him under, we can do that now while the commandos are getting prepped.”

  “Excellent.”

  “But Mara,” said Phoebe, “you do realize that we’ll probably never find a cure. I don’t see how—the damage is too severe.”

  “Perhaps,” said Mara, putting a hand on Aaron’s arm. “I’m certainly not getting my hopes up. But I’m not going to give up on him, either. We don’t have the time or the resources to deal with him now, so putting him in cryo is the best we can do.”

  And if our best isn’t good enough…

  “I understand,” said Phoebe. “I’ll have my people get on it right away.”

  Mara stared at Aaron’s twitching face and took a long, deep breath. “We won’t give up on you, Aaron,” she whispered. “Not on my watch.”

  She wished she could say more, but that was the best she could promise him.

  * * * * *

  The cryotanks had never looked more to Mara like coffins than they did as she watched Phoebe and Rachel guide Aaron’s limp, unconscious form into one with the help of a pair of medibots. Unlike the commandos, Aaron wasn’t prepped for rapid resuscitation, and would be kept in long-term storage outside of the cryodeck. This was the last time Mara would see him for a while—possibly the last time she’d ever see him.

  “You blame yourself for this, don’t you?” Mathusael asked beside her.

  “What makes you say that?” Mara asked.

  Mathusael shrugged. “Just an observation. It’s obvious the two of you were close, since you were the only Deltans in your platoon.”

  “We were the only two Deltans in the Flotilla, Mathusael.”

  “Not anymore.”

  Mara turned back to the cryofreeze procedure. As Rachel finished laying Aaron’s naked body into the tank, Phoebe walked back to the console and toggled the freezing process to begin. The glass face of the cryotank slid shut and sealed with a sharp hiss.

  “He was my chance to redeem myself,” Mara said quietly. “I’ve done things that I’m not very proud of. As long as I could keep him from coming to harm, I figured I wasn’t a total monster.”

  “Sometimes you have to be a monster to protect the ones you love.”

/>   She thought of the men she’d killed to get Aaron off of the Starfire. It wasn’t quite the same as executing the Imperial officers in cold blood, but it had still given her the same satisfaction. She clenched her fists by her side.

  “What am I becoming, Mathusael? What is this war turning us into?”

  “I don’t know. I doubt it’s possible for us to know until all this is over. But they say that wars make bad people worse and good people better.”

  “Then I must be a lost cause.”

  He looked at her and frowned. “Why would you say that?”

  The cryotank filled with a dark green gas, obscuring Aaron from sight. Mara took a deep breath. Should I tell him? Ever since they’d joined the Merope-7, she’d carefully kept that part of her past from him, but now she couldn’t bear to hide it any longer.

  “Mathusael?”

  “Yes, Mara?”

  “There’s something I need to tell you.”

  He turned to her and frowned. “What is it?”

  Here goes.

  “When the Imperials slaughtered my father, I vowed to avenge his death,” Mara began. “That was the only reason I joined the Resistance. When we retook Bacca, my opportunity came a lot sooner than I’d expected. After we captured the Imperial flagship, I slipped onto the officers’ deck and hunted down the man who gave the kill order for my father. I shot him and his subordinates in cold blood.”

  Mathusael nodded slowly. Condensation began to form on the inside of the cryotank as the interior temperature dropped. On the console, the line indicating Aaron’s heartbeat began to flatten.

  “There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t see the faces of those men as I killed them,” Mara said, her chest tightening. “And when I try to imagine what my father would think—”

  Mathusael laid both of his hands on her shoulders, turning her to face him. “Do you remember when I told you that your father would be proud of you?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “I didn’t mean that lightly. Even with what you’ve told me, I still think he would be proud of the woman you’ve become.”