Gravity Flux: Kestrel Class Saga Book 3 Page 8

  “That’s too bad,” the woman said. “We could use another woman around.”

  The man started to raise his hand cannon while the woman was talking. And both of the teenage boys started toward her. Kim felt her body tense, but she shook off the fear and raised her own pistol. The hand cannon fired first with a thunderous boom. Tiny shards of hot metal slammed into the dumpster, which sounded like sleet on a metal roof. Kim fired without aiming. The laser bolt hit the man low in his abdomen, burning through his belt that was made from what looked like an old rubber inner tube. The focused light burned through his flesh too, and left a smoking hole in his gut. The man grunted and fell.

  The filthy-looking teenagers didn’t even slow down as the gunfire was exchanged. Kim turned to her right and shot the boy approaching from that direction. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the woman starting toward the fallen man as Kim turned back to the other side. The second boy tackled her before she could bring her pistol to bear. He was thin and savage, his hot breath making her gag as he screamed in outrage. They tumbled down a short but steep ridge. Kim lost her grip on the laser pistol as they fell, but she managed to twist around and land on top of the boy. His hands were like talons as he tried to grab hold of her. Kim snatched up a heavy piece of scrap metal and smashed it into the side of his face, opening a bloody gash over the teenager’s eye. He stiffened for a second, then went limp, and his eyes rolled back so that only the whites showed. Kim feared she had hit the boy too hard, but there was no time for regrets.

  The woman came over the hill of trash with a wail that made Kim’s blood run cold. The knife blade, thin and almost delicate looking, flashed in the sun above her head as the woman rushed down the steep ravine. Kim was on her knees and tried to rise up, but her left side was strangely weak.

  The outlaw woman crashed into Kim with jarring force. There was barely enough time to catch the woman’s wrist before she slammed the filet knife into Kim’s chest. Up close, Kim could see the woman’s desperate, bloodshot eyes. She was thin, with rotting teeth and scars around her eyes that made her seem much older than she probably was. The knife looked bigger and more dangerous too. Kim held the woman off, but the blade hovered over her chest.

  The outlaw threw her weight down on top of Kim, who was on her back, with something hard gouging into her back. Kim tried to roll the woman over, but she threw out a leg and pushed Kim back. Pain was starting to register through the rush of adrenaline. There was something wrong with Kim’s hip, and the object in her back was ripping through her jacket. Fear gave her strength, and as the outlaw rose up to attempt another downward thrust of her knife, Kim twisted out of the way. When the outlaw came down, driving the knife before her, the blade missed Kim’s shoulder and hit something hard in the debris beneath her. There was a crack as the blade snapped, and Kim grabbed the woman’s throat.

  It wasn’t the first time Kim had fought for her life. On Torrent Four, fighting was common, and the only sure way to stop the violence was to kill one’s opponent. Kim wasn’t a killer, even though she had killed in self-defense. But as she felt the outlaw woman’s windpipe between her fingers, and could have crushed the woman’s throat, she hesitated.

  The outlaw pulled back hard enough that she flipped backward off Kim, who scrambled to her knees, before the pain in her hip caused her to flop onto her side. Something was hurting that side, some fiery pain she didn’t understand. The outlaw woman got to her feet, coughing and sputtering. Kim searched for her laser pistol but couldn’t see the weapon. Instead she snatched up an old, rusty pipe and held it ready. But the fight had gone out of the outlaw, who turned and ran away. Kim dropped onto her good side, breathing hard and suddenly shaking so hard she couldn’t do anything but lie as still as possible until it passed. After a few moments, her strength seemed to return. She put her hand on her hip. The upper portion of her left thigh, and across her hip, was wet. Kim felt the fluid on her palm and fingers, hot and sticky. When she raised her trembling hand and saw the blood, her strength fled and Kim fainted.

  Chapter 15

  Command Memo:

  From the desk of Admiral General Volgate

  Concerning Brigadier General Pershing

  You are hereby ordered to take control of the Royal Imperium Fleet Vessel Deception and proceed with all haste to the Torrent system. You are directed to record the pursuit, capture, and destruction of the Kestrel class vessel called Modulus Echo. Under no circumstances are you to engage the rebel ship or join in the armada under the direction of Admiral Minsk.

  The memo, which Brigadier General Pershing had read multiple times since receiving it, was clear enough. She wasn’t to take part in capturing the Kestrel class ship, which included the Special Forces operatives under her command on Torrent Four. She had been leashed and relegated to the sidelines in what would probably be a short, one-sided fight. Still, she would be present when the Kestrel class ship was either destroyed, or by some miracle, escaped their clutches. Pershing didn’t agree with the admiral general’s strategy or tactics, but she didn’t mind being in the system.

  Tension had built throughout the Fleet. Even her Spec Ops units could tell something was happening, although there were few who could pinpoint what it was. Most of the officers she had overheard suspected that the admiral general’s career was on the line, and while Pershing recognized that it was, she didn’t agree that leadership change was the source of the tension. The carefully constructed house of cards that was the Royal Imperium was on the verge of collapse, and Pershing suspected that a wind was about to blow.

  Political shake-ups were not uncommon, but Pershing suspected that more was at stake. The entire Imperium was being threatened. The rebellion was poised to bring a real fight to the Imperium Fleet, but Pershing believed there was even more at stake. Something they couldn’t see lurked in the shadows, waiting to reveal itself at the right moment, something that would change everything.

  All Pershing could do was wait and ensure that her Spec Ops units were ready for whatever fight was to come. It was the first time in her long career that she actually felt a tremor of fear. Alicia Pershing had fought rebels on a dozen worlds, led operations on even more, and navigated the political landmines of being a high-ranking military officer of the Royal Imperium. But in every instance, she had seen her enemy coming. She didn’t always know what tactics they would use, but she knew they were there, plotting her downfall. And every time she had been ready, surprising those who dared attack her with ruthless intensity.

  Things had changed, and while she couldn’t identify exactly what was happening, or what danger she felt looming, she could point toward the agent of that change. A simple, outdated ship—a single vessel with no real military affiliation. The Kestrel class ship Modulus Echo had flown in Confederate operations, but Pershing didn’t believe the rebellion to be the true threat. Something bigger, something much more sinister, was at work and she was determined to unearth it one way or another.

  “The Deception is ready, General,” a lowly officer whose name Pershing had already forgotten informed her.

  “Very good,” Pershing said. “I’ll continue to direct Special Forces Operations from the Deception. All reports are to be directed to me. Is that clear? I want nothing left waiting. No news is too insignificant to pass along.”

  “Of course, General,” the officer said.

  Pershing made sure she had her favorite data pad and two backup power packs for her sidearm. Others would have seen to her personal effects and the Deception’s captain would be waiting for her to take charge of the ship.

  Pershing cast one last look around the Spec Ops command center. For some reason that defied explanation, she felt as if she would never see it again. The general was not a sentimental person, but the feeling, some sort of strange intuition she could not identify, was strong enough that she couldn’t help but pay attention to it.

  “Back everything up to our servers on Yelsyn Prime,” Pershing said. “All our operations, lists o
f assets, undercover operatives, everything.”

  The officer stiffened to attention and saluted. “Yes, General,” he said, a little more loudly than necessary.

  Pershing returned the salute, then left the Spec Ops command center. She had done all she could. There was no reason to linger. Her future was out there, in the empty expanse of space. She wasn’t a naval officer, and didn’t have the first clue about commanding a ship of the line. Spec Ops did operate smaller ships, usually undercover vessels or espionage ships like the Deception. Still, space was where the first conflicts were bound to happen, and she wanted to be ready to meet whatever challenge lay ahead.

  After winding her way through the maze of corridors that made up the Central Command space station, she finally reached the docking arm where the Deception was waiting. She passed through the air lock and came face to face with the ship’s captain. A cold, narrow-faced woman, with small eyes and a slight hint of dark hair on the pale skin of her upper lip.

  “General Pershing,” the woman said. “I’m Captain Derringer. Welcome aboard the Deception.”

  “Thank you, Captain,” Pershing said. “Are we ready to proceed?”

  “On your order, General.”

  “The ship is yours to command, Captain. I am only here to oversee the mission in the Torrent system. I suggest we proceed with all haste.”

  “Aye, General,” Captain Derringer said before tapping the com-link on the cuff of her sleeve. She held her arm up and spoke into the small device. “General Pershing is aboard. We can begin moving out of the dock.”

  “Aye, Captain,” came the reply on the com-link.

  “Please, General,” Derringer said, “allow me to show you to your quarters.”

  “Very well,” Pershing said.

  Some of the Fleet’s capital ships were huge floating cities. Their officers enjoyed large staterooms with offices. The Deception was a much smaller ship. Built for stealth, it had a crew of less than a hundred highly trained personnel. The ship’s long-range cameras could focus on the surface of a planet from beyond orbit, and the hull was made of a special polymer that absorbed most radar signals, making it difficult to find in the dark expanse of space.

  The officers all had private quarters, but none were very large. Even the captain’s berth was little more than a galley-style alcove, with a bunk on one side, a desk on the other, and a private toilet in the back. The Deception did have a guest room. It was only slightly larger than the officers’ quarters.

  “Your uniforms and sundries have already been brought aboard,” Captain Derringer said. “You’ll find them in your locker. When you’re settled, feel free to join us on the bridge. The jump to the Torrent system shouldn’t take longer than thirty hours.”

  “Thank you, Captain,” Pershing said, without any sign of the aggravation she felt over being out of touch while in hyperspace for more than a day.

  “I had hoped you’d dine with the officers this evening,” Derringer went on. “We’d be honored to have you at our table.”

  “Of course. I’ll sync my system and download the ship’s schedule,” Pershing said. “Please don’t worry over me. I’m not the type that needs special attention.”

  “Roger that,” Derringer said. “With your leave, then, General, I’ll return to the bridge.”

  Pershing dismissed the ship’s captain and sat on the bunk in her tiny room. She wasn’t used to finery, or comfort, so the room didn’t bother her. On the wall across from her bed was a video screen no thicker than a sheet of paper. It showed the forward view from the ship’s cameras. Pershing leaned forward and touched the screen to bring up the controls. She cycled through the camera feeds until she was seeing their wake. The Royal Imperium Military Headquarters was a monstrosity of a space station. There were almost constant expansions and the modules stretched for miles in three dimensions.

  Once more, Alicia Pershing, commander of the Royal Imperium’s Special Forces division, felt a wave of nostalgia as she looked out over the space station. Would she ever see it again? For some reason she felt certain she would not. And it wasn’t fear. She didn’t feel a sense of impending doom, like the way she might if she were going to die. It was the huge space station, the headquarters for the entire Royal Imperium military, that she felt would not survive. Perhaps it was nothing more than superstition. Maybe she was growing sentimental. She had surpassed the age of forty, and many people claimed that physical and mental changes occurred at her age. Yet it felt different, as if it wasn’t her at all, but a premonition from outside herself.

  Never one for dwelling long on the past, Pershing switched the view from the rear back to the front of the ship. Gershwin Major was below them on the right-hand side of the screen. Ahead of them, a thousand stars waited. She wondered for a moment whether one of them was Torrent, but she doubted it. Suddenly the view seemed to stretch, Pershing’s inhale seemed to go on for a long time, and the ship jumped into hyperspace, leaving the Celeste system far behind.

  Chapter 16

  Night fell and Ben had known they couldn’t stay. No one challenged the idea, but in his mind, that didn’t matter. Nance and Magnum knew his feelings, Professor Jones deferred to his judgment when it came to the ship, but Ben knew the danger. The night belonged to the wicked, and if they stayed, they would be forced to fight again.

  Ben felt like a traitor sitting in the pilot’s seat on the Echo’s bridge. He had installed the seat as he renovated the ship. It had been removed at some point, either because it was broken or more likely because it wasn’t. The ship had been stripped of most of its usable materials when Ben found it. The engines and systems were mostly intact, and his diligent work had restored them to their former glory. Along the way, he had found replacements for missing seats, mattress padding, chairs, and other various things that people often take for granted on a ship. The one thing no one forgot was a pilot, and he reckoned he was a poor replacement for Kim.

  “Engines online,” Ben said.

  “All systems green,” Nance said.

  “Here goes nothing,” Ben said.

  He had the foot pedals pressed all the way forward, and he rotated the main drive with his left hand. The screens all showed night vision feeds from the exterior cameras. The salvage fields showed up in a gloomy green, but in truth there was very little to see. No trees sprang up from the trash-covered ground. There were no large wrecks close by. Ben would take them fifty miles due west and set her down again, to repeat the salvage process, hopefully finding even more useful materials than the day before.

  He eased the throttle forward and immediately felt the ship lift off from the ground. They were rising faster than he wanted. He pulled back on the throttle until they were hovering in midair.

  “Holding steady at thirty feet,” Nance said. “Nice.”

  “Don’t jinx it,” Ben said.

  Flying involved a variety of activities from the pilot, all done quickly and in the right order. Ben eased the joystick to his left and simultaneously rotated the main drive so that the nose of the ship dipped a little and they began to fly west. His eyes constantly monitored the ship’s gauges. Keeping their altitude wasn’t as easy as he thought it would be, and with only thirty feet between the ship and the ground, there was very little room for error. He had to balance maintaining their altitude, keeping their speed up, and monitoring their altitude. If any one of the three wavered, it affected the other two. Several times, Ben slowed them to a stop and brought the ship back to a hover so that he could start all over again.

  It took the ship almost half an hour to cover fifty miles of garbage-strewn fields. Ben knew where they were. The salvage fields stretched for hundreds of miles in every direction. There were no roads, only footpaths that meandered through the junk piles. Fifty miles was more than a group could travel in a single day, which made Ben feel safe. When they had gone far enough, Ben set the ship down gently. It was a good landing, even if it took much longer than any landing Kim had ever performed.

&n
bsp; “Not bad,” Magnum said as the engines powered down.

  “You did well, Ben,” Nance said.

  “My nerves are shot,” Ben replied.

  “You’ll get better at it,” she replied.

  Ben wanted to say that he shouldn’t have to. He wanted to curse Kim for leaving them in the lurch, without a pilot. In truth, Ben didn’t know if he would ever trust anyone else to fly the ship, but he hated the task himself. His concern for the vessel made him too cautious. They needed Kim’s confidence and swagger.

  “Let’s keep watch for an hour,” Ben said. “Just in case the Security Force picked us up. Then we can sleep in shifts.”

  “Bringing up the camera feeds,” Nance said.

  It wasn’t necessary, but Ben didn’t like the idea of getting caught by the Imperium forces. He still needed several mechanical components before he could even test his ideas for the flux shielding. They saw no movement, not on the ground or in the air. Ben sent everyone else to bed and took the first watch. He kept wide-angle views up on the display screens. Three cameras overlapped to show the area all around the ship. The Echo’s wings and engines blocked part of the view, but Ben kept rotating through thermal feeds from the other camera to ensure that nothing was moving out in the darkness.

  Alone with his thoughts, Ben felt a sense of agony. It was pure loss. He had been a fool once again and it had cost him dearly. Hurting Kim had never entered his mind. He was just so caught up in the excitement of Professor Jones’s theories on controlling gravity that he lost track of time. It was something he needed to change. He wasn’t a child anymore, and he couldn’t continue to live as if he were. He was responsible for Nance, for Magnum, for his ship. There would be times when he would have to curb his natural inclinations to make sure he met the needs of the people around him. He only wished he’d learned that lesson sooner, before losing the person he cared about most in the entire galaxy.