“I can keep him going for two, maybe three hours.”

  “And Arzael.”

  “Punctured lung and several broken ribs, possibly even his shoulder blade.” Odee paused. “I’ve cleaned the wound and the nanites have already begun repairing.”

  “Long story short, it’ll take more than that to put me down,” Arzael stated, entering the cockpit.

  “So, like I said, we need to get out of here,” Jones stated again.

  “Well, that’s not gonna be easy,” Baelis stated as he entered the cockpit.

  “What’s the report on the warp drive?” Jennings asked.

  “Not good, damage to the field projector wasn’t as bad as I first thought. We’ve patched it for now.”

  “Well that’s good, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah, but the control rod’s cracked. We can’t regulate the warp bubble without it.”

  “We need to do something, or Simmo’s dead, and potentially us with him,” Jones replied.

  “I’m open to suggestions,” Baelis said.

  “What about the star,” Jennings said. “Couldn’t we use it to slingshot out of here?”

  “Without warp, slingshotting the star won’t get us out of the system.”

  “What about a warp burst?” Jennings asked.

  “Possible.”

  “Star’s got a point two five positive gravity,” Jones said, reading the information on the display. “We set a parabolic trajectory, and at the apex of our slingshot we initiate a warp burst. Should be enough to get to Aurura.”

  “How do we even reach the star with our friends out there,” Baelis said, gesturing out the window. “We gotta cover just over one AU, and they’ll be hot on our tail the whole way.”

  “The debris will cover us to the planet, then we’ll just have to make a run for it I’m afraid,” Jennings replied.

  “Pulling a manoeuvre like that in a tub like this is tricky under ideal conditions. With a damaged ship and under fire, I’d say odds are less than fifty-fifty,” Baelis stated. “But what the hell, we’re fucked either way.”

  “Better odds than usual.” Jones grinned.

  Phil Steadman stood looking out of one of Vanguard’s viewing ports. He looked out and saw the shattered out-runner. Already repair drones were crawling all over the ruptured front sealing up and repairing the damage as best they could. He was so focussed on one of the drones he didn't hear Doix talking to him at first.

  “Mr Steadman,” Doix's voice finally roused him.

  “Sorry. Yes, Major, what can I do for you?” he asked tiredly.

  “You've earned this,” Doix said, holding up a bottle and a pair of cups.

  “What is it?” he asked, looking at the bottle in curiosity.

  “It’s my clan’s own battle-wine,” he replied, pouring two cups out. “Your broadcast helped save a lot of people today, including a good many of my marines,” he continued, handing him one of the cups. “For that, you have my gratitude and respect,” he concluded and drank. Steadman drank too, as having done several cultural reports he knew this was a great honour in Norn culture.

  “Thank you, Major. I'm just sorry we couldn't have saved more,” he said.

  “Sadly, you can’t save them all. Still, it doesn’t stop us from trying.”

  “I just hope Martinez is okay. He wanted to leave when the colonists evacuated, I talked him into staying,” Steadman said with a tear in his eye.

  “Your man will be alright, Mr Steadman,” Doix said. “We've got some of the best doctors on this ship, they will take the best care of him.” He put his sizeable hand on Steadman's forearm. “The best of care,” he reiterated.

  “I know,” he said. “I just can't help thinking if he hadn't pushed me out of the way.” He paused. “It should be me lying down there, not him.”

  “Perhaps, but the brave deeds of a friend accepts those dangers.” He paused. “As you did in the cargo bay. Farax told me how you thrust yourself into danger to save another, a stranger to you.”

  “I suppose,” he replied. “Doesn't help shake that feeling though, does it?”

  “Only if you dwell on it negatively,” Doix added. “There’s no greater honour for a Norn than to sacrifice yourself to save a friend.”

  “Perhaps, I don't know,” he said, rubbing his face. “My brain is frazzled.”

  “Indeed, you look like you could use some rest. Come, I'll show you to the guest quarters,” Doix said.

  Chapter 23

  In her quarters Tori, freshly changed, stood looking at her wound in the mirror. The large gash fully sealed with nano-mesh threads, the bright white webbing standing out against her olive skin. Hopefully it wouldn’t leave a scar, she thought. Her comm unit began ringing, rousing her from her thoughts.

  “Vanguard, active...” she paused, remembering the EAI was offline. She moved towards the unit, and as she did she noticed who the caller was. Her oldest and best friend, Suzalete Jennings, the Colonel’s wife. She paused for a moment in hesitation, then activated the comm. The screen changed to show the interior of Jennings home. There, sat nervously waiting, was a half Sirian, half Amaronian woman. She had four Sirian head tentacles and long purple hair styled in the latest Sirian trend. With piercing silver eyes, she was about five feet eight in height and had an average build. Behind her Tori spotted Fascor, the family kryt, a Sirian dog-like creature. They have a fearsome look, with large teeth and claws, and spine blades that protrude from its shaggy fur. Despite this look, kryt’s are very placid, loving, loyal and playful creatures, unless they or their pack are threatened, then their savagery is nigh on irresistible.

  “Hey, Suze,” Tori said, winching slightly as she sat down.

  “Finally, an answer,” she replied with some relief. “After seeing the news that Vanguard was in a battle, and then not being able to get hold of anyone, I was beginning to fear the worst.” She paused. “Where’s Danny?”

  “Suze, I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news,” Tori began.

  “Oh god, he’s dead isn’t he,” her voice quivered.

  “No, no, he’s not dead, just missing.”

  “What do you mean missing?” Suze replied, wiping the tears from her cheeks.

  “We had to jump out before his transport could make it back,” Tori said.

  “You left him?”

  “We didn’t have a choice,” Tori replied.

  “Oh, no, no,” Suze began. “This can’t be happening, not now,” she said, again wiping away the tears.

  “Hey, hey it’s okay,” Tori said in empathy. “Danny’s a fighter, and he’s got some of the baddest marines I know with him.” She paused to collect herself for a moment. “We won’t abandon him. If it comes to it, I’ll go back myself and drag his ass back.” She stared at Suze. “And that’s a promise.”

  “I know, I know,” she sobbed. “I, I just didn’t expect this when I started the day.”

  “None of us did,” Tori replied.

  “It’s different,” Suze said. “I... I found out this morning that I’m pregnant again.”

  “Oh, Suze, congratulation.”

  “Well, it was until earlier. Now my head’s all over the place.”

  “Regardless of the rest of this shit, a baby is always worth congratulations.” Tori smiled. “How far along are you?” she asked.

  “About three months,” Suze replied.

  “Dirty girl, I knew that’s why you two snuck off at DeLancy’s birthday party,” Tori said.

  “Uh, says you,” Suze replied.

  “Don’t know what you mean.”

  “Playing coy won’t wash with me, Miss Jones,” she stated with a knowing look.

  “And here I thought we’d been quite subtle.”

  “Just because Danny’s oblivious to that kind of thing doesn’t mean you can fool me.”

  “Ha, Mr Oblivious,” Tori laughed. “I remember that night when I introduced you both.”

  “Thirteen years,” Suze said. “I hope that there’s more.”

  “There will be, I know how much he loves you and the kids. There isn’t anything in the whole Universe that can stop him getting back to you,” Tori said, trying to cover her pain with a smile.

  “I hope so,” Suze said, spotting the forced smile. “I’m sorry, Tori. I’ve been so focussed on me, me, me. Are you okay?”

  “So-so,” Tori replied. “Got a little injured,” she said, revealing her wound.

  “Oh, that looks nasty.”

  “It’s looks worse than it actually is,” Tori lied.

  “There’s something else, I can see it in your eyes,” Suze said.

  “I’ve never been able to keep secrets from you.”

  “Only because I know you so well. You’re like my sister, my family.” She smiled.

  “Colt’s missing too,” Tori stated. “He was onboard Danny’s transport.”

  “Oh, now I see it,” Suze stated in realisation.

  “See what?” Tori asked.

  “You’re in love with Jones.”

  “That’s not…” Tori began to deny it, but stopped. “That’s…” she continued. “I’m not sure.”

  “Ah, Tori, it’s simple,” Suze smiled. “Does your heart feel like it’s going to burst when he holds you? Has it sunk into darkness now that you fear him being lost?” She paused. “Once you know, that’s your answer.”

  “That’s easy.” She smiled back, knowing the answer. “I know I don’t say this often enough, but I do love you like a sister too,” she said.

  “I know.” She smiled.

  On EOC Spence was in his office, reviewing and analysing the latest reports, when he suddenly stopped in shock, barely able to believe what he was reading. It was a report from Third Fleets encounter, with detailed sensor reading of its exotic energy superweapon and impenetrable subspace shielding.

  “Captain, Director Lambert has arrived,” OMA stated.

  “Show her in please,” he replied.

  “Well, Donald, the proverbial has truly hit the fan, wouldn’t you agree?” Lambert stated.

  “And then some,” he stated. “We have an unknown enemy whose agenda is hidden. They have vast numerical and technical superiority with that World-Ship.” He paused. “And we know almost nothing about them.”

  “Every hour, that information grows,” Lambert said, sitting on his sofa.

  “But we still need to analyse that data, collate it and then figure how best to use it.”

  “I agree, but how?” Lambert posed.

  “We need a new division that’s sole purpose is this enemy and all things pertaining to them.”

  “Exactly, then you are agreed.”

  “Yes,” he paused. “Wait, what?” Spence asked in confusion.

  “We’re agreed.”

  “To what?” Spence repeated.

  “To you becoming head of the new division.”

  “I did?” he asked.

  “You did, isn’t that right OMA?”

  “I’m sorry, Director, I wasn’t paying attention,” OMA stated.

  “You never could lie well,” Lambert replied.

  “Or smart enough not to get involved with spec ops,” Spence stated.

  “Absolutely my, boy.” Lambert paused. “But you can’t refuse now, anyway. I’ve already cleared your appointment with the Supreme High Consul.” She paused, looking at him with earnest. “I need my best man on this, Donald, and that man’s you.”

  “You could’ve just said so.” He paused. “Of course I’ll accept, Director.”

  “Congratulation, Major,” she said, standing to shake his hand.

  “Major?”

  “Indeed,” she said, affixing his new rank pins. “These are well earned, Donald”

  “Thank you, ma’am,” he said, saluting. Just then the door opened and Imeleiya entered.

  “Forgive the intrusion,” she began, “but you need to see this,” she stated, turning the viewscreen on. “OMA, begin playback,” she ordered. The screen tuned into the GNN channel, and the familiar face of Kee’ za Quaroo, a woman of half human, half Terelan heritage. Despite her near human appearance, her overly large eyes, twice that of a human, were instantly recognisable to most as a Terelan trait. She was the regular news host.

  “I’m being told we can now go live to Ealis Yahnouk on Uxamana,” she said.

  “Thank you, Kee’ za. I’m here at the colonial hospital where the surviving colonists have been marshalled.” He paused as a loud explosion from outside shook the building. “With a terrible battle raging in orbit, evacuation has become impossible, despite Admiral Saemad’s heroic efforts.” He paused again as several explosions rippled outside. “With a beachhead established, the enemy are now less than a hundred metres from here, where a mixture of Alliance forces are fighting desperately against this unknown enemy,” he stated, pointing his camera out of the window towards the fighting. Imeleiya paused the image and zoomed into the top right-hand corner.

  “Recognise this?” she asked.

  “That’s the same dome structure that was reported on Vanjellise,” Spence answered.

  “Indeed, it is,” Lambert added, scrutinizing the image carefully.

  “Jennings believed it to be some sort of command asset,” Spence stated.

  “And rightly so,” Lambert agreed. “Have we identified anymore?”

  “I’ve got OMA sifting through the data now.”

  “Good, if we can confirm this is a command asset, it could be the first step to defeating them,” Spence said.

  “Well now that we’re making progress, Donald, it’s time for you to gather any personnel you need. Our transport leaves in twenty minutes,” Lambert stated.

  Frost was stood in her quarters. They were sparsely decorated, partly because Frost had only been stationed to the Vanguard three months ago, but also she’d always been a minimalistic person. She sat on the edge of the bed and took off her boots. After the noise and din of today, the silence in her room was pleasant and much needed. She undid her forearm bracers, letting them fall to the floor, and peeled off her gloves and threw them behind her on to the bed. Walking over to her table, she removed her gun belt and hung it over the back of the chair. She looked up. Looking at herself in the mirror, she couldn’t believe she was still alive. She stared at herself and realised she was still splattered in Horani’s blood. She also noticed for the first time that she stunk; the smell of burning and the acrid scent of plasma discharge was all over her. Frost began to undo the nano zips on her armour and took it off. As she did it was made apparent just how close that shot in the shaft had been. Looking at the trough that run a good six inches up the back left-hand side, it had melted the armour to the point of almost penetrating it. Frost held the armour running her finger through the trough, feeling the sharp edges where the metal had cooled and formed many little sharp peaks throughout the trough. Her mind recalled that desperate climb.

  She suddenly dropped the armour as a realisation struck her. Was she injured? She unzipped the top of her suit and pulled her arms out. She turned and looked in the mirror, lifting her undershirt as she did. There was a red line on her back, roughly where the shot had passed. She ran her fingers across the area; it was blistered and tingled. A close call indeed, she thought. She continued undressing and then headed into her shower. She turned it on, and the cool water was soothing to her now aching muscles. She stood there for a few minutes, drifting off into her own thoughts. She thought about the events of today, how lucky she’d been and of the marines she’d lost, and finally the memory of her father and how much she missed him. Looking down at the drain where the water swirled black and red, she returned from her thoughts and began washing the blood and dirt of battle away. If only the pain she felt inside her could be washed away so easily, she thought.

  DeLancy materialised on one of Blackwatch's transport hubs. He stepped off and was met by a marine corporal.

  “Sir,” the marine saluted. “If you'll follow me, I'll take you to the Commodore,” he stated.

  “Very well, Corporal. Lead on,” DeLancy said, gesturing with his hand. As he followed his escort, he looked around. The interior was very much like Vanguard's except everything was slightly larger and grander. Over the intercom several orders and announcements were made to the crew. The corridors were quiet, and they passed only a few people before the corporal lead them to the Commodore’s office. He stopped and pressed the buzzer.

  “Enter,” the Commodore stated.

  “Sir,” the corporal said saluting. “Captain DeLancy's here, sir.”

  “Thank you, Corporal. Show him in please.”

  “Sir,” he replied. DeLancy entered and the corporal closed the door behind him. The Commodore's office was a similar layout to his, except must larger and ostentatious, as was befitting a ship of Blackwatch's class.

  “Steven,” the Commodore said, shaking his hand. “I'm glad you made it.”

  “Likewise, sir,” DeLancy replied.

  “Come sit, can I offer you a drink?” he asked, holding up a bottle.

  “Please,” DeLancy replied, sitting down at the table. The Commodore poured him a drink and handed it to him.

  “Here's to those who fell today,” he said, and they both toasted.

  “Any news on Admiral Hyngara yet?” DeLancy asked.

  “I'm afraid it doesn't look like he made it. None of the ships that held the rear-guard have returned,” he said sadly. “I'm sorry, I know the two of you are friends,” he added.

  “Thank you sir. If he is gone, it’s a great blow to the fleet.”

  “Agreed,” the Commodore said. “I also want to let you know I’ve recommended you and your ship for the FOV” (Fleet Order of Valour)

  “Sir?” DeLancy replied, slightly taken aback.

  “Your conduct today was exemplary, Steven. I doubt any other ship or captain could’ve held out as long as you did.” He paused. “Not only did you hold out, but also successfully evacuated the eight thousand inhabitants of the colony.”

  “Thank you, sir, but we were just doing our job,” he said.

  “Indeed, you were, and a good job deserves to be acknowledged.”

  “On behalf of myself and the crew then, Commodore, thank you.”

  “Pleasure was mine.” He paused. “But now we need to look to our own situation, lest we too are overwhelmed.”

 

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