Friends in Command (Sons of the Starfarers: Book IV) Read online

  “Where have you been, Aaron?” she asked in Gaian. Even though it was more convenient to talk in their native Deltan, he needed as much practice as he could get.

  “Guess,” he said in Deltan, completely ignoring her attempt to help him practice the language. She rolled her eyes and gave up trying.

  “I don’t know, Aaron. Where?”

  “On my way here, I got a message from Major Achilles.” He lifted his arm and held out his wrist console so she could see. “He wants me to meet him on the command deck right after mess, in the briefing chamber.”

  Mara frowned. “Why?”

  “I don’t know. Am I in trouble?”

  “I doubt it. If you were, they would have disciplined you through Commander Noah.” Or not. With how disorganized everything was, she could see a mid-ranking officer going over Noah’s head. But a major? Aaron would have had to have done something extreme to be disciplined by the top brass, and to her knowledge, he hadn’t done anything of the sort.

  He sighed. “That’s a relief. I didn’t think so, but hey, you never know.”

  “What does it say?” she asked, peering at the screen.

  “Not much—just that I’m supposed to report to the briefing room promptly after mess.”

  It’s a transfer, Mara thought, her gut sinking. Aaron was about to receive a new assignment.

  “I hope you’ve been working hard on your language study,” she said, switching to Gaian. “I have a hunch you’re going to need it.”

  Now Aaron frowned. “Why you say that?”

  “Because I’m pretty sure that you’re about to be transferred.”

  “Transferred, eh?” said Jason farther down the table. “What’s this I hear about our pilot being transferred?”

  Instantly, every soldier in the platoon turned to Aaron and Mara. They’d been in limbo for so long, any news of an immediate change was bound to catch their attention. Better to have it all out now than to let it fester into an overblown rumor.

  “Ensign Deltana has a call from Major Achilles,” Mara announced. “Three to one it’s a transfer.”

  “Our pilot’s being transferred?”

  “No way!”

  “What about the rest of us?”

  “No news there,” she said, shaking her head. “The call came just for Aaron. I didn’t know anything about it until he told me.”

  “So it’s a commission, then?” Jason asked, his eyes gleaming.

  Mara shrugged. “Could be. Don’t see why not.”

  “A commission!”

  “Where do you think they’ll put him?”

  “Two to one he pilots a gunship.”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised if he makes captain,” said Mara. She grinned at Aaron, who was blushing deep red at all the attention. The others had gathered around him and were now slapping him heartily on the back.

  “Good luck out there, Ensign.”

  “Don’t forget us!”

  “I-I don’t think it’s such a big deal,” Aaron stammered in Gaian, suddenly unsure of himself. Mara waved them all away.

  “That’s enough. Let Deltana eat his breakfast.”

  The others wandered back to the table, still buzzing with excitement at the news. Aaron sighed and rubbed his forehead.

  “Do you really think it’s a commission?” he asked.

  She took a bite of her food and swallowed. “What else could it be?”

  “A commission…”

  His face went from red, to white, then back to normal in the space of almost a minute. During all that time, he stirred his food absent-mindedly but didn’t actually eat any of it.

  Should I offer to accompany him as a translator? Mara wondered. It might make him look bad, though—like he needs me to hold his hand. Though that might have been true when he first joined the Flotilla, it certainly wasn’t anymore. He could get along fine without her. But a part of her still hoped that he’d ask. He was the only other Deltan in the Flotilla, and as for holding his hand all the time… Well, it felt good to be needed.

  “Do you want me to go with you to the briefing room?”

  Aaron thought about it for a moment, then shook his head. “No, you’ve got your hands full with the platoon. I can handle it myself.”

  Even though she knew he was right, her heart still fell to hear him say it. “Very well,” she heard herself say. “Let us know about it as soon as you can.”

  “I will. And thanks, Mara—thanks for everything.”

  The words felt more like a goodbye than she cared to admit.

  * * * * *

  Aaron tugged at the collar of his new uniform as he waited in front of the door to the briefing room. The cut was a little tight—it would take some time to break in. The uniforms had just arrived at the commissary two weeks ago, and everyone on the command deck was wearing them. After serving on the Flotilla with pilots from all across the Outworlds, it was strange to see such uniformity all around him.

  The door hissed open, and he took a tentative step inside. The circular hall had several concentric rows of seats, all directed to a large holographic projector in the center. Three podiums were spaced equally around the projector, each commanding a third of the room. When Aaron walked in, though, the place was empty except for two people: Commander Noah and Major Achilles.

  The two men turned to face him. Noah, Aaron’s commanding officer from Paladin wing, was tall and thin with long blond hair tied back beneath his uniform. In contrast, Major Achilles had dark skin and a massively broad chest, with muscular arms that were at least as thick as Aaron’s legs. His wide, round face had a flat nose and lips that curled naturally into a frown. A fearsome tattoo ran from his right eye across the whole of his cheek.

  Aaron swallowed. The major gave him a salute as sharp as a razor’s edge.

  “Ensign Deltana.”

  “Major Achilles, sir.” Aaron returned the salute as sharply as he could.

  In one smooth, swift motion, the major’s hand returned to his side. “Sit down, Ensign.” His eyes never left Aaron’s.

  Aaron walked to the front of the room and sat down on the first row. Noah nodded to him and smiled, relieving the tension somewhat, but the frown never left Achilles’s face. If anything, it only deepened.

  “Ensign Deltana, I’ve been speaking with Commander Noah about your role in the recent battle. I understand you piloted one of the Paladin wing drop-ships in the assault on the GIS Starfire. Is that correct?”

  It took Aaron a moment to process the major’s words. His command of Gaian wasn’t perfect, but thanks to the help from the neural stimulator program, he was able to catch all of it.

  “Yes, Major,” he answered.

  Major Achilles narrowed his eyes. “As I understand it, your ship was mangled so badly in that battle that it could not be recovered. Also, you broke formation and deployed your platoon near the main hangar bay, more than eight hundred meters from your drop target on the Starfire’s command deck. Is this also correct?”

  Aaron frowned. “Uh…”

  “Major Achilles,” Noah interrupted. “The fact that Fourth Platoon was deployed to our rear was the only thing that saved—”

  The major raised his hand, calling for silence. He got it immediately.

  “Ensign Deltana, your approach on the Starfire was one of the most reckless and foolhardy combat runs I have ever seen. Not only did you break entirely from your wing, but you came within only one stray shot of getting yourself—and your entire platoon—killed.”

  A bead of sweat dribbled down Aaron’s neck. Was this a disciplinary meeting? How could it be? It had been weeks since he’d sent in his battle reports. And yet with the major bearing down on him with his contemptuous frown and terrifying gaze, he couldn’t help but feel as if he was about to be skinned alive.

  “Y-yes, sir.”

  “Is there anything you have to say for yourself, Ensign?”

  Aaron took a deep breath. “Uh, no, sir.”

  The major raised an eyebr
ow. “Nothing?”

  “Well, uh, just that I did my best, sir.”

  “Your best?” said Major Achilles, his eyes growing wide in a terrifying grimace. “You broke orders, mangled your ship beyond repair, and missed your target objective by almost an entire kilometer! How is that your best?”

  “But I got them in alive,” Aaron all but whimpered.

  “What was that, Ensign?”

  Aaron hesitated, but the weight of Achilles’s glare forced him to continue.

  “I got them in alive, sir. My platoon, I mean. I got them in.”

  “And what of your drop-ship?”

  “Ships can be replaced, sir. People cannot.”

  He regretted the words almost the moment they left his mouth. How stupid was he to talk back to a major? He was going to get skinned for sure.

  To his surprise, though, Major Achilles only nodded. “Indeed, Ensign. Ships are very replaceable.”

  He turned his back on Aaron to pace for a couple of steps. Aaron’s heart raced, and his feet twitched nervously. What the hell was going on?

  “The Tajjis have sent us almost a hundred and fifty brand new warships from their dockyards,” Major Achilles said. “They have not sent us the personnel to command them, though. We are to provide that. And right now, this fleet is very short on personnel.”

  This “fleet”? Aaron wondered. Since when had the Flotilla become a full-fledged fleet?

  “We need more than warm bodies to fill command chairs, though,” Achilles continued. “We need men and women who have proved themselves under fire, who have demonstrated ingenuity and resourcefulness and have the will to make hard decisions under pressure. Does that describe you?”

  Aaron’s heart leaped, and his mouth suddenly went dry. Commander Noah gave him a knowing look.

  “I-I think so, sir,” he stammered.

  Major Achilles turned to face him, his dark eyes boring into him like a drill. “Your record is less than ideal, Ensign. I don’t know that you’re ready for command. But you did demonstrate a remarkable degree of innovation on your attack run. Instead of decelerating under enemy fire, you came through the danger zone at full throttle and used friction with the Starfire’s hull to reduce your speed. It tore off almost all of your docking clamps in the process, but you still managed to get your troops inside.”

  Noah gave Aaron a reassuring nod. If Major Achilles noticed it at all, he made no indication.

  “Commander Noah assures me that you will rise to whatever position we give you,” said Achilles. “Therefore, I am extending you a captain’s commission on the light frigate Merope-7.”

  It’s true! Aaron thought excitedly, unable to suppress a grin. A captain’s commission—they’re giving me my own ship!

  “You’ll need to provide a list of recommendations for your officers and crew,” Achilles continued. “I can’t promise that High Command will approve all of them, but they will certainly take your preferences into account.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Aaron said enthusiastically. “It’s—it’s an honor.”

  “No, Deltana. It is a responsibility. Do you understand why we are giving you this commission?”

  “Uh, no, sir. Why?”

  “Because we need starship captains who can do two things,” said Achilles “Think creatively under pressure, and make life and death decisions without hesitation. As captain, your decisions will determine whether those under your command live or die. You must be ready to sacrifice all of them without a moment’s hesitation. That is not a thing to be taken lightly, Deltana. You must be ready to risk all of them for the sake of the mission.”

  Aaron’s cheeks blanched, but he nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  “Is there anything we don’t know about that might make you unfit for this position?”

  He paused a moment to think. The only thing that came to mind was the neural stimulator program. He’d been using it heavily since his brother had gone missing, so he’d definitely have to cut back, now that he had a position of responsibility. But that shouldn’t be too hard; he had it under control. Besides, it was only because of the stimulator that he was able to speak the language at all. This opportunity to be a starship captain—it wouldn’t come again. And if he could use his new position to redouble the search for his brother…

  “No, sir.”

  “Do you have any questions for us, Deltana?”

  “No,” Aaron lied. He had so many questions he didn’t know where to start.

  “Then that is all. Dismis—”

  “Wait,” he blurted. “What about Fourth Platoon?”

  Achilles frowned and turned to Commander Noah. “The platoons are to be disbanded with Paladin wing,” Noah said. “If you want to recommend any of them as officers on your ship, they should all be available.”

  That’s a good idea.

  “If we are quite finished, Deltana,” said Major Achilles. The full force of his gaze bore into Aaron.

  “Yes, Major,” said Aaron giving the man a salute. “I won’t disappoint you, sir.”

  Achilles returned the salute in one smooth motion. “If you do, Deltana, you had better hope you don’t live long enough to be debriefed. Dismissed!”

  * * * * *

  Twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six, Mara counted. Sweat dribbled down her face, and her heart pounded in her ears. This was her fourth set of pushups, and her arms and stomach burned, but she welcomed the pain, even embraced it. Now of all times, she needed the distraction.

  Her wrist console buzzed. She dropped to the floor mat and lay face-down for a couple of moments before checking the call. Sure enough, it was Aaron. Her arms still quivering, she pulled the earpiece from its slot in the console and slipped it on.

  “Deltana? Is that you?”

  The nearest members of the platoon were looking at her, so she stood up and took her call to the corner. Besides, some of the equipment was fairly noisy. By covering one ear, though, she was able to hear him just fine.

  “Yes, Mara, it is me,” said Aaron, speaking in Gaian. “I have some news!”

  Whatever it was, he sounded excited.

  “What is it?” Mara asked, switching to Gaian for the benefit of the rest of the platoon.

  “They gave me a commission, just like you said! I’m going to command a small frigate, one of the new ones built by the Tajjis!”

  His Gaian was surprisingly good—he must have been practicing. Mara smiled.

  “That’s great, Aaron. I didn’t doubt you for a moment.”

  “I have other news for Fourth Platoon, too.”

  Her smile instantly fell as she steeled herself for the inevitable.

  “Oh, yeah? What’s that?”

  “High Command is dissolving Paladin wing. All of the platoons, including Fourth Platoon, are going to be disbanded.”

  So it’s happening, Mara thought to herself. Her gut clenched, but she refused to let the news affect her. After all, she’d known it was coming.

  “Thanks for the heads-up, Aaron. I appreciate it.”

  “That’s not all, Mara. I have some very good news for you.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes. When Major Achilles gave me the frigate commission, he asked me to name my officers and crew. It’s a small ship, so there’s only room for twenty-five of us, but guess who I named as my first officer?”

  Mara’s heart skipped a beat. “No way. Don’t tell me you—”

  “Yes, Mara. I want you to be my second-in-command.”

  The shock of the news made her blink and go rigid. It took her brain a moment to process the information. At first, she almost panicked, but then she realized that it was a good surprise rather than a bad one.

  “You—you want me as your XO?”

  “Yes, Mara. Is it good? Do you agree?”

  “I, uh, I think so, yeah. Crew size twenty-five, small frigate…”

  “It’s a brand new ship, built especially for the war. When can you come see it?”

  She barely heard him, he
r mind was such a blur. “When can I see it? Soon, I think. Yeah, very soon. A frigate…”

  Aaron chuckled. “Okay, I’ll send you the information. I look forward to seeing you on board, Mara.”

  The call ended, and Mara replaced the earpiece in its slot. She walked through the exercise room in a daze, barely noticing the stares that were now directed at her.

  “Hey, Soladze? What’s going on?”

  “Huh?” she said, turning to the soldier who’d addressed her. Her mind was so blown, she barely recognized him.

  “Yeah? What’s the matter?”

  “The matter? Oh—nothing’s the matter.”

  “Then what’s the news?”

  She took a deep breath and gave up trying to collect her thoughts. “A frigate—I’m going to be first officer on a frigate.”

  More questions flooded her, but she ignored them and walked straight out the door.

  Friends Embark

  Mara didn’t know what to expect when she met back up with Aaron, now her commanding officer. She dressed in her crisp new uniform, ignoring the stiff starchiness of the fabric. She’d break it in with time, just like the war would break in the newly organized battle fleet.

  The dockyards for the new starships were at a higher orbit than New Hope Station, so Mara had to take a shuttle ferry. The ride lasted a little over an hour, but the shuttle was crammed so full of people that felt more like ten. Fortunately, she had a window seat that gave her an excellent view. The darkness of deep space made it impossible to see the new ships until they were right on top of them, but by then, the sight was grand enough to make her gasp.

  All along the long, narrow docking arm, dozens of sleek, silvery starships sat parked in perfectly aligned rows. Yellow light spilled out from the tiny portholes along their sides, illuminating their incredibly smooth hulls. Unlike the volunteer ships of the Flotilla, these Tajji warships were all new, without any pock-marks from micro-meteorites or darkening from long exposure to cosmic rays. They weren’t particularly large, but what they lacked in size they more than made up for in sleekness and form factor. The smaller ones were shaped like darts and missiles, the larger ones like elongated diamonds. The bulky engines were set off in nacelles, no doubt giving them extra maneuverability. Missile bays and weapons systems were tucked seamlessly inside the smooth, silvery hulls.