Gravity Flux: Kestrel Class Saga Book 3 Page 5

  “I’ll be there in plenty of time,” Kim said. “Stop whining.”

  Ben looked at Magnum, who had the slightest hint of a smile on his face.

  “I wasn’t whining,” Ben said.

  Magnum looked away and Ben turned back to the bolt he was loosening. A simple flick of a switch on the autoratchet reversed the device’s spin and tightened the squeaky bolt back into place.

  “I don’t get it,” Ben said, returning to his place on the bridge.

  “Maybe she just wanted some time alone,” Nance said.

  “I thought being alone was the problem,” Ben grumbled.

  “Maybe I’m not some machine you can just fix whenever you think I’m broken,” Kim said as she came back down the stairs. She had a tall protein shake in one hand and a bundle of carb wafers in the other.

  Ben watched her walk past him without a single glance and drop into her pilot’s seat.

  “Eighteen minutes until we drop from hyperspace,” Nance said.

  “Should we power up the shields?” Magnum asked.

  “I’ve already rerouted power from the auxiliary batteries,” Ben said. “But let’s wait until we’re in real space again to deploy them. Unless we’re really unlucky, we should have at least a few seconds before the Imperium opens fire on us.”

  “You think the professor should join us down here?” Kim asked. “Things might get dicey.”

  “He knows,” Ben said. “I don’t think knowing what was happening would make him more comfortable.”

  “Whatever,” Kim replied.

  “Ten minutes,” Nance replied.

  It was a long and awkward ten minutes. When the ship finally dropped out of hyperspace, they were thousands of miles from Torrent Four.

  “We’re back,” Kim said.

  “Running lights and radar are down,” Nance said. “Beginning visual scans.”

  Ben preferred to keep his mouth shut. Kim seemed to be ready to embarrass him no matter what he said, and he preferred to give her as few targets as possible.

  “Looks clear,” Magnum said.

  “I’m proceeding toward orbit,” Kim said.

  “They have to be scanning the system,” Nance said. “We had trouble here, and surely they’ve checked their reports and discovered a Kestrel class escaped the blockade.”

  “That was a while back,” Ben said. “Maybe they didn’t put two and two together.”

  “I’d rather not base our strategy on the hope that the Imperium is too stupid to know we’ve been here,” Kim said.

  They could see Torrent Four in the distance. They were running at a much slower speed than they could have used to get to the planet. There was no sign of Imperium vessels anywhere.

  “Time to orbit is fifty-four minutes,” Nance said.

  I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” Ben said. “Magnum, are the rear deflectors up?”

  The big man nodded. In the distance, Torrent Four was a marble-sized dirty orange ball hovering in the light from the yellow star. She had only half a moon left, after the Imperium destroyed most of it during the Great War. Ben knew the moon was surrounded by debris that could easily hide Imperium spy ships.

  “What’s easier,” Ben asked, “capturing us in space, or in atmosphere?”

  “Space,” Nance said. “Target our engines and we’re sitting ducks.”

  “Whereas in atmo, if they take our engines we plummet to our deaths,” Kim said in a mocking tone.

  “But they might try to take us on the ground,” Ben said. “We’re at our most vulnerable on the ground and they have security forces down there more than capable of taking out our ship,” Ben said.

  “I have a feeling they want eyeballs on us when they exact their revenge,” Kim said. “I mean, a quiet disappearance is more their style, but we embarrassed them at Bannyan Seven.”

  “Yeah, it’s too easy,” Ben said. “It makes me nervous.”

  “Suck it up, buttercup,” Kim said. “This whole stupid thing was your idea. Don’t go whining about it now.”

  They kept up a steady surveillance around them using the ship’s exterior cameras, but in the darkness of space, it was hard to see much of anything that wasn’t illuminated by sunlight or using running lights. The entire system felt like a ghost town to Ben, as if it had inexplicably been abandoned by millions of people all at once.

  When they finally reached orbit on the dark side of the planet, Kim took them down through the choppy atmosphere, using the engines to make sure they didn’t pick up enough friction to light up the night sky. There were only a handful of cities left on the planet. Kim used the night vision cameras to bring them down in a field of junk far from any established settlements. The ship settled, onto the ground and Ben shut down the artificial gravity.

  “Anything?” Ben asked.

  “No,” Nance said. “No movement. I even checked thermal imaging. There’s nothing bigger than a rat moving around out there.”

  “Hard to believe we got this lucky,” Ben said.

  “Odds are, it wasn’t luck,” Kim said. “What do you want to bet the Imperium let us land? When we try to leave, there could a hundred ships in orbit waiting to capture us.”

  “We’ll have to worry about that later,” Ben said. “Magnum and I will be collecting materials at first light. Kim, why don’t you take first watch?”

  “Yes, sir, Captain. Anything for the team.”

  “Are we down?” Jones asked as he descended the stairs. “Did we make it?”

  “We’re down safe for the moment,” Ben said. “But even if the Imperium forces aren’t on our tail, there are still a lot of dangerous people down here. I suggest you stay on the ship at all times.”

  “Oh, yes, of course,” Jones said. “Thank you.”

  He returned up the stairs faster than he came down. Nance and Magnum turned in. They kept separate cabins, but Magnum liked being in Nance’s private quarters when they were spending time together. His own room was full of tools, gun parts, and explosive powders.

  Ben moved from his console over to Kim’s seat. She didn’t look at him, but kept her focus on her console’s monitors that were rotating through the exterior cameras.

  “Are we going to talk?” Ben asked.

  “About what?” Kim said.

  “About you being mad at me,” Ben said, “and staying in your cabin for the last twenty hours.”

  “I wasn’t needed,” Kim said. “I don’t see what the big deal is.”

  “You wouldn’t,” Ben said. “Look, I’m sorry I’ve been preoccupied. I’m not trying to ignore you; I’m trying to keep you safe.”

  “Well, you won’t have to worry about that for long,” Kim said.

  “You can’t leave,” Ben said. “You hate this place.”

  “It’s better than being trapped on a ship where I’m not wanted.”

  “Come on, Kim. You know that isn’t true.”

  “We tried,” she said calmly, looking up at him for the first time. “It’s okay. I know I’ll never measure up to your beloved ship. But I need more than that, Ben. I need to know what you’re doing. I need to understand. To help, even. But when you get something in your head, you shut everyone else out.”

  “I do?” Ben asked.

  “God, isn’t it obvious? You’re like a robot, you dolt. I love this ship. I even love Nance and Magnum. But more than anything in all the galaxy, I love you, Ben. When you treat me like I don’t matter, or like don’t exist, it shreds my heart in a way I can’t describe. I can’t take it. I’d rather be alone on this garbage heap than let you keep hurting me.”

  “I don’t mean to hurt you,” Ben said, as tears stung his eyes. “Please, give me another chance.”

  “I can’t,” she said, looking away, her voice husky with emotion. “I won’t survive it again. I have to let you go, Ben. As much as that hurts, it won’t kill me. But staying with you might. Tomorrow, I’m gone. Please don’t go looking for me, okay? Just let me have this. Let me go.”

&n
bsp; He felt as if someone were pulling his insides out in front of his very eyes. He staggered back, nearly falling when he bumped into the communications console. He hadn’t thought it possible, not really, but he was face to face with hard, cold reality. Kim was leaving, and there was nothing he could do to stop her.

  Chapter 9

  Brigadier General Pershing stood by the door of the small waiting room outside the admiral general’s office. She wasn’t alone. Politicians and bureaucrats filled the plush seats, each seemed busy with their communication devices. Pershing had been forced to wait for nearly two hours, but she didn’t let her frustration show. The admiral general was as much politician as commander-in-chief of the Imperium Armed Forces.

  When the general’s door opened, a despondent-looking man came out. Pershing thought it obvious that things hadn’t gone in the politician’s favor. The admiral general’s personal assistant, a colonel with a smug expression, looked her way.

  “General Pershing,” the colonel said.

  She moved confidently toward the admiral general’s office. The colonel held the door for her. He was the gatekeeper and was proud to wield a tiny sliver of power. One glance told her the colonel had never seen combat. His dress uniform was covered with parade ribbons, but no combat insignia. He looked soft, she thought and dismissed him from her mind the way one might forget a buzzing insect.

  The colonel had a reception area, complete with a desk and a bank of monitors, but his real job was to carry out the admiral general’s bidding. He opened the door to the inner office and announced her in a voice that was just a little too loud.

  “Brigadier General Pershing,” the colonel said, before stepping back and closing the door.

  Pershing was used to ostentatious displays of wealth and power, and the admiral general’s office was no exception. In the tight confines of a space station, status was often measured in square footage. The admiral general’s office was very large, bigger than her Spec Ops command center. His desk was made of real wood and was massive. Pershing guessed it was sturdy enough to stop a laser blast. Yet it only took up one corner of the room. A display cabinet showed off the admiral general’s rise to power in plaques, awards, and commendations. Above it, pictures of the admiral general with the rich and powerful rotated on a neat arrangement of digital display frames. The rest of the room was taken up by a sitting area and bar. The admiral general was preparing himself a drink, pouring a variety of liquors from glass bottles into a stainless-steel cocktail shaker.

  “General Pershing,” Volgate said, “have a seat.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Pershing said, sitting for the first time in several hours.

  The sitting area consisted of a long sofa and two armchairs facing each other. Pershing sat in one of the chairs. It was soft and comfortable, obviously very expensive. Pershing valued function over form and eschewed furnishings that were plush. She was a warrior, and she took pride in maintaining her readiness for any combat scenario, even though as a general there was little chance of her ever getting a chance to actually fight again.

  “I’m sorry I kept you waiting,” Volgate said, filling two crystal tumblers with the liquor from the cocktail shaker. “It’s been a hectic couple of weeks.”

  “I understand, sir,” Pershing said.

  Volgate walked over. He was a big man, thick from shoulder to hips. Most of his muscle had gone to fat, but he still carried himself well. He handed Pershing a tumbler and settled into the other sitting chair.

  “Tell me what prospects your network of spies has made in finding the Kestrel class ship,” he said.

  “We’ve had four sightings,” Pershing said. “Three have been eliminated as matches to the craft used in the Bannyan debacle.”

  “Keep track of them,” Volgate said. “We may need to use one to demonstrate our resolve if you fail to find the actual culprit.”

  Pershing wanted to point out the flaw in his strategy. Obviously, they could destroy a Kestrel class ship and disseminate video of the action, but if the actual rebel ship struck again, it would make the Imperium look even worse. Still, correcting the admiral general wasn’t something to be done lightly, and Pershing decided to hold her tongue.

  “The fourth sighting was reported just this morning,” Pershing continued her report. “In the Torrent system. We’re running a test on the images to confirm if the ship is a match for the vessel on video from Bannyan.”

  “Very good. The Torrent system is the perfect place for a shock-and-awe campaign. No real concern for collateral damage there, but it’s close enough that we can get the results back quickly. Your people still have eyes on the ship?”

  “Yes, sir,” Pershing said.

  She sipped the liquor and wanted to spit it out. It was warm, vile, and made her tongue numb while burning a trail down her throat. What the admiral general saw in the drink, she couldn’t comprehend.

  “Good, I’m going to order ships to the Torrent system. Hopefully, they can make the jump before the ship in question leaves the system.”

  “I have good people on the ground on Torrent Four,” Pershing said. “They’ll get close. Unless the ship left the planet immediately after it arrived, I expect to get a tracking device on it.”

  “That would be excellent,” Volgate said, smacking his lips after taking a drink from his own tumbler. “I think we should take action against this ship, even if it isn’t our quarry. I’m assuming it’s unregistered.”

  “Yes, sir,” Pershing replied.

  “Good, then we have the justification we need to destroy it. If our forces can reach the system, I’ll see to it that we make a display of destroying the Kestrel class ship. Better to have the video and not need it, than to need it and not have it, eh?”

  “Always be prepared,” Pershing said. “That’s good advice.”

  “I agree. Now tell me what news your spies have gathered on the Confederacy.”

  The meeting lasted half an hour. Pershing’s network of spies was reporting everything they could about the rebellion, but the loose affiliation of local rebellions was surprisingly good at keeping the leadership insulated. They had targets on over three dozen worlds, but they were merely foot soldiers and guerrilla fighters with no knowledge or direct links to the shot callers who were probably safely hidden in space. The galaxy was too vast to regulate completely, and the Confederacy had a network of messengers that rivaled the Imperium’s Spec Op community.

  When the meeting was over, Pershing set her mostly unconsumed glass of liquor on a side table and gave the admiral general her finest salute. He waved it away without getting to his feet. The commander-in-chief had finished his cocktail and she was beginning to think it wasn’t his first of the day.

  Leaving his office, the smarmy colonel escorted her to the door. Pershing guessed the man had a listening device planted in the room. Anger flared inside her at the breach of security, but she knew it wasn’t her place to reprimand the admiral general’s aide. If he couldn’t see that the colonel was overstepping his bounds, he would just have to live with the consequences when the politically ambitious colonel stabbed him in the back.

  Pershing didn’t use assistants for most of her work and was surprised to find Lieutenant Hayes waiting for her in the hallway.

  “You have news?” Pershing said.

  “The ship on Torrent Four is a match,” he said, speaking in a low tone so that the other people passing in the hallway outside the admiral general’s offices couldn’t hear him.

  “Confirmed?” Pershing said.

  “Triple-checked,” the lieutenant said. “And Major Le Croix is almost back. He called ahead to meet with you ASAP.”

  “Good,” Pershing said. “He must have news worth our time. Get him to the secure briefing room. I’ll meet you both there. We’re finally getting somewhere and I don’t want to take a chance that we could lose this lead.”

  “Roger that,” the lieutenant said, hurrying off.

  Pershing felt the shiver of anticipat
ion. There was little doubt that if Major Le Croix wanted to see her immediately, it meant he had news that couldn’t wait. Her only stop would be to send a message to her agent on Torrent Four to get a tracking beacon on the Kestrel class ship at all costs. She wouldn’t let her target escape, not with victory so close to hand. The rebels may have won a minor skirmish, but the Imperium was destined to win the war. Pershing was certain of it.

  Chapter 10

  Ben didn’t sleep at all. He was awake, trying to find a way to stop Kim from leaving. The last thing he wanted was to make a scene, but he didn’t think he could just sit back and watch her go.

  He lay on his bunk, staring up at the transparent view ports above him. As soon as the sky started to lighten, he got up. On the bridge, Nance was already at her console.

  “How long have you been on duty?” Ben asked.

  “Just a few minutes,” Nance said. “Kim went up to the galley.”

  “Thanks,” Ben said, as he hurried up the stairs.

  The first thing he saw was Professor Jones at the big table, which he had covered with drawings for gravity flux missiles. In the galley, Kim was filling a small bag with food.

  “What are you doing?” Ben asked her.

  “I didn’t think you’d mind if I took enough food to get me started. You owe me a kite, by the way. You promised.”

  “Kim, please don’t leave,” Ben said. “I’m so sorry.”

  “I know you are,” she said. “Your focus is one of the things that makes you great, Ben. I don’t want to change that. You need to let me go. You did it once before.”

  “Did I?” Ben asked. “I don’t think so, Kim. Please, I want you with us. You’re family.”

  “It’s good to know you feel that way,” Kim said. “I was confused about it. I sort of thought you loved me.”

  “I do,” Ben said.

  “Like a sister.”

  “You know that isn’t true,” Ben said. “Please don’t leave.”

  “I have to,” Kim said. “I’ll find another ship. There’s always a need for pilots.”

  “We need a pilot,” Ben said.

  “Ben,” she said, getting to her feet and facing him. “I can’t stay here anymore. I can’t do this.”