Starclash (Stealing the Sun Book 4) Read online

“From the looks of it,” Torrance finally said, “I would say this is Academy Ensign Thomas Kitchell.”

  Then he turned to the rest of the crew.

  “Let me introduce you to the real hero of Everguard.”

  An awkward moment of silence came over the room.

  “Just one of the heroes,” Kitchell muttered.

  “Thomas worked under me on Everguard,” Torrance said. “He’s a bright guy. Very soon the two of us are going to spend some serious time talking about how he happened to arrive here at this moment, but right now I’m declaring him part of the team. Have a seat, Thomas.”

  Kitchell gave a tired grin, then took the nearest seat.

  The rest of the team was still adjusting to his presence and to the masking idea he had just flopped onto the table in front of them, but they hadn’t rejected him and a few were throwing him sideways glances, clearly trying to assess what his appearance meant.

  “Any other ideas?” Torrance asked.

  “We could call off the mission!”

  “Great!” he quipped. “I’ll get the captain on the line and you can give him that idea personally.”

  The auditorium broke out in smiles.

  “What if we shut down the hallway system, and utilize H-MADS only in the conference center?”

  “That’s probably the safest thing,” Skiles said. “But will it fly with upper command?”

  “I don’t know,” Torrance said, turning to stand before Commander Yuan. “Would you pitch it with me, LiJuan?”

  Yuan nodded absently.

  “I don’t know that it’s necessary, though. If the software mask your friend suggested works, it should be equally safe everywhere. But shutting down hallway coverage might be a good political move.”

  “You mean it might cost me that record for shortest command?”

  Even Yuan’s lips curled into a tiny smile at that. “Yes, Commander. It might cost you that record.”

  “Great,” he said. “Then that’s it. Let’s mask the infringing activity. I want a report as soon as it’s done, and I want a test sequence completed as quickly as possible thereafter. The captain’s prelaunch brief is at 0700, so Commander Yuan and I will meet at 0600 to go over the test data and prepare our recommendation.” He looked at Yuan.

  She nodded.

  “Okay, then. Let’s get to it.”

  The group broke up to the sound of invigorated conversation and hasty footsteps.

  Torrance looked at Kitchell. “Do you have a minute?”

  Kitchell gave a sheepish grin. “Can it wait? I want to watch the masking.”

  A huge smile broke over Torrance’s face. “That’s so like you.”

  “I learned from the best.”

  “Go to it, then. But you’re not getting out of here without talking to me.”

  “Wouldn’t think of it, LC.”

  Torrance gave a double take.

  “I know you’ve been promoted, sir, but if it’s edge with you, you’ll always be LC to me,” Kitchell said as he got up to follow Skiles and Ramista. “Best rank ever.”

  “Fair enough,” Torrance said.

  He watched as Kitchell carefully traversed the steps up. After the kid made it to the top and slipped out of the room, Torrance drew a deep breath and rubbed fatigue out of his eyes. He hoped this was going to work.

  “Hey,” he said as he stood alone in the auditorium. “Take a chance, right?”

  Then he picked his hat off the podium, and followed the path Kitchell had taken.

  CHAPTER 10

  Atropos, Eta Cassiopeia System

  Local Date: Conejo 3, 9

  Local Time: 1215

  After going over the operation with the entire group, Deidra briefed each skimmer pilot individually, walking through their positions on the line and the coordinates their energy weapons would cover. Einstein’s skimmers would lay a line between the UG ship and Atropos. Icarus’s skimmers would form up in a wall that used Galopar itself as the zero-point to intersect with Einstein’s skimmers. Each Z-pad was equipped with a single plasma cannon that had been modified with centrifugal recyclers to boost its projectile’s velocity.

  Six were to focus on Orion’s Star Drive unit.

  Two each on her impulse power systems.

  The rest had individual targets.

  Einstein would cover Orion’s weaponry and her mag-shields. Icarus would focus on the bridge itself.

  The plan was well designed.

  Still, Deidra was worried.

  Despite Papa’s certainty, and despite Gregor Anderson’s suggestion that accepting UG diplomacy was the best answer, she was leaving no stone unturned, no situation uncovered. If the Uglies tried anything at all, they would pay. And deep in her heart, she still felt that she was right. The problem was that she was just one person. Beyond that, she wasn’t stupid. She heard what people said—she understood they saw her as young and out of control, probably too emotional. If she stood up to her father now and she turned out to be wrong, there could be serious penalties to pay, and even though some didn’t think so, Deidra understood exactly how and where political lines got drawn. She had studied Ellyn Parker, her father, and the entire history of disobedience. She understood that power was a game as much as it was a passion.

  Life was long, she thought as she considered her options.

  The op would run tomorrow, and weapons control was her area. She wasn’t going to let anything go wrong.

  * * *

  It was well past midnight before Deidra arrived home. She was still anxious. Keyed up. She knew she had done her job, but in the end she couldn’t help but feel an oppressive sense of gloom that covered her skin like an invisible layer of paste.

  Kel was in the bedroom sleeping, but Jamal was still awake, listening to music on his buds. “Have some?” he said, raising a glass of the wine he fermented from the red fruit that grew wild on this planet. The liquid was deep and dark.

  She took the glass, sipped, then gave it back.

  The sharp spice filled the back of her throat. It was almost like cinnamon, one of her favorites.

  “It’s a good batch,” she said.

  “You’re late again.”

  “Yeah,” she said, her voice far away.

  “You okay?”

  She sat on the beanbag sack of a chair beside him.

  When your father is the leader of the Free World, it’s hard to know who to trust, but Deidra had been with Kel and Jamal for a year now. One of the reasons she stayed was that neither of them ever pressed her on anything. They knew who she was. They knew she couldn’t share everything that happened to her, at least not right away. Jamal and Kel gave her space and accepted her for who she was, and neither had ever asked her for favors based on her position, and that meant everything to her.

  Jamal ran a hand over her thigh, using the strength of his fingers to massage deep toward the bone. It felt marvelous. She couldn’t help but groan.

  Unlike Matt Anderson, Jamal was her kind of man.

  He was darker and thinner than Anderson, but just as fun to look at. And he was just as dedicated to the more passionate ideals of U3 that Deidra carried around within her. But he was smarter than Anderson, and saw things from a much broader background. Where Matt Anderson was binary in his approach, Jamal understood angles. Anderson would always be capable, but there was little doubt that he would rise to whatever level he achieved as much because his father was Papa’s second in command. Jamal was destined to find his own level, and despite his more laid-back presence Deidra was betting that Jamal would outdo Matt Anderson in the end. He was studying chemical engineering, with a bent toward biological systems and probably medicine. He wanted to cure the world of diseases, but right now he would probably settle for merely getting rid of the allergies that plagued him here on Atropos.

  Besides being both fun and potent, the wine was a form of self-medication on that front—inducing local material from the flowering plants into his system seemed to control the breakouts
.

  Jamal understood people, and read situations. His quiet personality played off Deidra’s fiery nature. Adding Kel’s artistic bent to the balance gave them a stability Deidra enjoyed more than she had ever really considered before.

  “I’m okay,” she finally answered his question. But her voice betrayed a different truth.

  Jamal put the glass down, then sat up to put his arm around her, rubbing her back. “Need anything?” The wide-eyed expression on his face made his implication clear. The aroma of his presence seemed to well up inside her. Yes, she thought. It would be nice to get lost in him right now.

  She put her hand on his knee as he kissed her.

  The fresh spice of wine on his lips made her breathe him in.

  She put her other hand to the back of his head, and kissed him back.

  “Is this an open party?”

  They both turned to find Kel leaning against the doorway to the bedroom, a smile on her lips.

  Deidra took in the languid form of her girlfriend draped in her gauzy wrap. The plans were set. What was going to happen was going to happen.

  It would be good to let the world around her go on its own way.

  If only for one evening.

  CHAPTER 11

  UGIS Orion

  Local Date: January 25, 2215

  Local Time: 0430

  The time was beyond late, and Torrance was tired. The team had successfully tested the software mask. It seemed to work fine. Thank God. He hadn’t slept, but he was too keyed up now, and Orion would depart in about three hours. It was clear he wasn’t getting any shut-eye tonight.

  He pulled up a report from Landis Marin that said the preflight testing was completed. Two small issues, both dealt with.

  “LC?”

  Torrance looked up to find Kitchell at his office door. He broke out in the biggest smile he had ever felt. He needed that.

  “Thomas,” he said, standing. He stepped around his desk, then leaned back, sitting with his butt on the desktop and his arms crossed.

  Kitchell stepped in. “Hope I’m not interrupting. I wanted to stop by and say hey before you launch. Not sure if I was going to be able to see you again if I didn’t.”

  “Of course it’s not a problem. I would have personally kicked your behind if you didn’t.”

  “I’m shipping out to the Academy tomorrow,” Kitchell said.

  “You’ll be great.”

  “Yeah. I will.”

  Torrance chuckled. “Same old Thomas Kitchell, I see.”

  “I don’t see getting shot as any reason to be otherwise, sir.”

  “I guess not.”

  “I thought you should know I’m planning on going Sig Ops.”

  Torrance paused. “Signal Ops?”

  “Yes, sir. With a linguistics second.”

  “I see.” And he did. Thomas Kitchell was going to focus on the data files. “Linguistics, too?”

  “I don’t know enough to play with the data you took, but it’s gnawing at me. I want to know what they say, and assuming you’re right, I figure we’ll need people who can handle both sides of the fence.”

  “Risky.”

  Kitchell shrugged. “Take a chance, right?”

  Torrance cocked his head and grinned. “I’ve heard that’s an idea.”

  “Anyway. I got to skedaddle if I’m going to make the Academy shuttle.”

  Torrance stood up straight and shook Kitchell’s hand, then broke down and gave the kid a hug. “Study well,” Torrance said as they broke. “And call me if you learn anything.”

  “You too, all right?” The young man’s gaze held a deeper question.

  “Fair enough,” Torrance replied. “I’m not giving up on them either. Maybe we can work together again.”

  “That would be great, LC. Totally great.”

  “Edge?” Torrance said.

  “Edge as hell, sir.”

  Kitchell left, then, and Torrance returned to his seat, feeling better than he had felt since well before the whole Everguard mission jumped the shark. He looked at his system clock, and saw the security team’s notice that said Ambassador Reyes had come aboard sometime earlier that night.

  Launch time was nearing.

  * * *

  Orion’s loading and storage bay was a flurry of movement. Loader bots filled with processed food and secondary equipment made their automated ways from storage bays to the ship, their movement a frictionless dance performed on superconducting pads that kept them hovering above the floor.

  The ceiling was domed, easily twenty meters tall and lined with piping that carried the flow of fluids, ventilation, and information that Aldrin Station needed to operate. Voices jumbled into a low hum that echoed in the chamber.

  Torrance liked coming here because it was a place he could see a hundred systems all working together. The bay was like a strange creation of quantum clockwork. Every piece was designed as an individual component, and yet, together they were the basic DNA of the ship. Take one part out, and something would break.

  Today he was dead tired, and still the craft was magnificent.

  A voice came from behind. “Have a good flight, Commander.”

  Torrance started, but recovered adequately to find Admiral Umaro standing in the corridor beside him.

  “Thank you, Admiral.”

  “Are you all right?” she asked.

  “Yes, I’m fine. Just didn’t expect to see you down here.”

  “I like to see my crews off,” she said as if to dismiss the topic. “I understand you’ve fixed H-MADS.”

  “‘Fixed’ may be a bit too generous, but, yes, it’s working well enough to support the mission. Captain Douglas approved the approach fifteen minutes ago.”

  “Excellent. My trust in you has already paid off.”

  “Just doing my best, Admiral.”

  Umaro stared as a pallet loaded with refrigerated boxes whooshed past. Her hands were clasped behind her.

  “I hope you’ll take this the right way, Commander,” she said in a low voice. “But doing your best isn’t good enough now.”

  “I understand.”

  “Yes,” she said. “I’m sure you do. At least I know I don’t need to tell you how far Universe Three might be prepared to take this.”

  He flashed on the image of Marisa.

  “No, Admiral, you don’t.”

  “It is very important that we arrive at a reasonable peace before U3 gains the ability to destroy us. Otherwise we will find ourselves in the middle of the coldest of Cold Wars imaginable.”

  “Or the hottest of Hot Wars,” Torrance added.

  “Yes,” she replied. “That would be the other option.”

  They stood for a moment, watching the bay work.

  “I’ll be off, Commander,” the admiral said. “My skiff back to Kensington arrives in a few minutes.”

  “Thank you for stopping by, Admiral.”

  “You’re welcome. Fly well.”

  Torrance gave the admiral a quick salute, which she returned prior to walking away.

  CHAPTER 12

  U3 Ship Einstein, Eta Cassiopeia System

  Local Date: Conejo 4, 9

  Local Time: 0630

  It was early in the morning, but Casmir Francis had already been awake for hours. He had taken a skimmer to Einstein last night in preparation for the launch, and completed his full and unannounced inspection. He was pleased. The people understood how important this was, and they had been prepared.

  Now he stood in the receiving bay control room, waiting for the nearby shuttle to arrive with the captives. He wanted to see them for himself. Wanted to know they were healthy and in good shape. They would be returned to the UG as a reward for playing nice—assuming UG played nice, anyway. He wanted to know his side of the bargain was being kept.

  Casmir took an easy breath, which was amazing in itself. Atropos clearly agreed with him. The pressure of a C-Pak pulled across the skin of his left arm, and he remembered Yvonne’s admonitions
.

  Waiting, he thought about the order of events for the meeting.

  It was scripted to the minute.

  In the old days, they would have used impulse power to get across the system, but seven years of experience had honed their jump algorithms to a more precise art.

  Today, in less than an hour, Einstein and Icarus would jump to Galopar, and their net of skimmers would deploy. An hour later, UG’s Orion would appear.

  “Shuttle Pilot Gage requesting approval to dock,” a voice called over the radio.

  “I’ve got you on spotter, Gage,” the reply came.

  Einstein’s doors opened to reveal dark space.

  The shuttle edged into position, and the doors crawled closed. Air flooded the bay, and then four men and three women were escorted out of the tiny craft. All but one walked on their own—but the one, a man, tall and sun-marked, with unruly dark hair and a welt along the side of his head, was accompanied by an escort forcibly holding one arm.

  “Who is he?” Casmir said to the bay steward.

  She checked her register.

  “I think that’s one of the pilots,” she replied.

  Casmir squinted.

  “Ah, yes. I remember him. Nimchura. We gave him his freedom years ago.”

  “Yes, sir,” the steward said.

  In the docking bay, the guards led the captives away, deeper into Einstein.

  It was time, he thought, glancing at the clock on his sleeve’s display. Actually, past time. He would have to move quickly if he was going to get to the bridge in time for the light show.

  * * *

  Nimchura was the last captive to step out of the shuttle and into Einstein’s cargo bay. Each of them had been assigned a personal guard. His guard’s fingers were like a vise around his biceps, but unless someone was being particularly observant, to the outside world it would look like he was just helping Nimchura through the air lock. Nimchura admitted he was impressed by that. It took a certain degree of skill to control someone like this man was controlling him.

  He also admitted that for a moment on the shuttle trip here his breath had been taken away when he first caught sight of Einstein through the shuttle’s front screens. It had been a long time since he had seen an Excelsior class ship this close, and as God was his old-and-probably-dead Auntie’s witness, the spacecraft’s sleek configuration was a beautiful thing. The image hit Nimchura someplace deep in the gut—a place where emotions that ranged from envy to embarrassment to anger all gathered together in ways that made him numb.