Edge of Redemption (A Star Too Far Book 3) (20 page)

Natyasha walked off the rise and sat in one of the alloy molded chairs. Her knees ached, her back ached, and she was tired. “You could have, but that wouldn’t have done either of us much good.”

“I’m not as dumb as I look.”

“Get your people into uniform, tell them to act proper.”

Malic suddenly looked sober. “They’re not fighting those animals.”

“They’re not resisting, they’re going to be crowd control.”

“For who?”

“For us. Once word gets out, we’re going to have riots. You need to stop them before the Hun does.”

Malic leaned back into his chair and stared at Natyasha. “I don’t have enough to watch the camps and hold the streets.”

“Focus on the riots. The camps aren’t a concern right now.”

“Can we let them go?”

Natyasha shook her head. “The Governor wants them to stay. If there’s trouble, shoot.”

Malic nodded and rested his hands on his paunch.

She looked over at Malic and sensed a touch of ambition. Have to keep him close, busy, and most of all engaged. Bark might have to pay him a visit, she thought. “We have a quota, it’s going to be tight. Full capacity.”

Malic nodded and looked up to the ceiling. “They bring a library?”

Natyasha shook her head. “No.” She knew Malic, along with every other resident of Winterthur, would understand a quota. The distillation towers was their life, their job, their blood. Everyday the sun rose through the steam plumes, and it was part of them all.

Bark stood on the edge of the room and cleared her throat.

Malic turned and looked back. He smiled up at Bark and leered at her.

“Come back in the morning,” Natyasha said to Malic.

Malic looked back with a smile and a sigh. “And I just thought I was getting warmed up.”

Natyasha ignored the comment and left Malic sitting near the floor. She followed Bark through the tall, slender hallways and into her office. The space was ceremonial, almost totally unused, but it was hers.

“We found a body,” Bark said.

“Shit,” Natyasha said.

“It’s not her, but the last person she was seen with.”

“So where is she?”

Bark looked through the rain streaked window and bit her lip. “I’m heading out after dark to search some of the Core facilities. If I find her?”

Natyasha sat down in the ancient wooden chair and ran her hand on the smooth armrest. She wondered, what would she do? “Gauge the situation, see what she can offer.” She racked her brain and felt the fog of the day heavy on her brain. “Build some trust.”

Bark nodded and leaned against the stone wall.

“Bring in the organization, everyone. Send them here.”

“Everyone?” Bark asked.

“Everyone. We’ve got a vassal state to run.”

––––––––

“S
till nothing, Captain,” Bryce said. “No reply on any UC channel.”

William nodded and ran his hand over his face. His fingers rasped against the first bit of stubble growth. Already he wanted to shave, to look professional. Each routine was a reminder of what was done before. Before whatever horrible thing put them out of the routines. “Automate the pings,” he said to Bryce.

Shay labored over a console and yawned. The nav plot in front of her looked like a simple red arc between dotted lines of asteroid orbits. The arc intersected an asteroid with a different numerical designation than the rest.

“Any reply, Shay?” William asked. He stared at scan data for the Core facility. It was an incomplete scan, but it was thermally active.

She shook her head and covered her mouth, stifling a second yawn.

In the tiny commons area there was a wisp thin naval rating named Benju who had come out of a damaged area and was left with a broken spine. He moaned when the nanites ebbed. Igor, the Serbian Marine, wore a pair of heavy white mitts that were filled with an odorless white gel to cover the burns that stretched down to his elbows.

The corpses they managed to recover lay on the opposite side of an airlock. They would be set loose into the void, but not yet. Corporal Vale Thorisdottir was mostly silent as she followed Huron and noted repairs to be made. Huron kept speaking of his desire to get some serious repairs made.

“Almost like new if they’re outfitted,” Huron had repeated like a mantra.

William had heard the phrase over and over and had finally asked. “What do you mean?”

“If they left materials, and just powered everything off, it will be easy. We have a full library of specifications, just not the ability to make anything we need.”

“And our library can—”

Huron nodded. “Yes.”

Now William had a fairly complete list that showed how devastated the ship was. But more importantly he felt a trust in the entire endeavor. It wasn’t the ship’s fault that it would disintegrate, it pained him to even think of it happening. His first real command, and what a beauty it was. He glanced to the wall and watched the ripple of nanite binders.

The bulk of the modified asteroid grew in detail as the
Garlic
crept closer. The majority was untouched asteroid chondrite with a blocky mass of alloy jutting out one side like a symmetric crystal. Farther out a debris cloud of scattered minerals hovered and grew into micro-asteroids that would in a few million years, turn into real asteroids. It seemed as dead as everything around it.

“Captain?” Bryce cleared his throat.

William looked over to his Midshipman and nodded.

“I think it’s been refining.”

“How can you tell?” William asked.

“There’s a gap between the debris clouds. The larger mass is all together, then there’s that,” he said, highlighting a blank area. “And this.” He highlighted a new cloud closer to the station. It was as if someone had turned it off, and back on again a week later.

William smiled and squeezed Bryce’s shoulder. “Corporal, you’re going in hot,” William said to Corporal Vale.

“I could use a few more, Captain,” Corporal Vale called over the comms.

“Sir,” Bryce said.

William looked down and shook his head. “Corporal, take two. Huron, get your crew on standby at the hatch and keep it tight while the Marines are inside.” He looked down to Bryce. “You have no need to prove yourself. You’d just be a trigger happy officer seeking redemption.”

Bryce turned away in silence and faced his display.

William knew how he felt. He’d felt much the same before, like a single charge into the enemy would solve all doubts and problems.

The smell of garlic rolled through the air as the ventilation system clunked and clanged. Thermal instability shifted and pinged as the uneven balance of the hull created stresses. It served as a reminder of just how close the entire ship came to being nothing more than a dead asteroid.

The ship tucked up close to the alloy pier and waited for the airlock to snake across the narrow distance. The hull of the station was pitted and raw from years of mining debris scratching against it like sand from a beach.

William stood and clasped his hands behind his back. He disliked waiting behind, waiting for others to board. It was the way it worked, and he knew it, but he much preferred to lead by example. His stomach rumbled and he felt a growing anxiety about the next meal. He flexed his augmetic hand—another reward for his time on Redmond. “Is there still mealslab left?”

“Bryce ate it all,” Shay mumbled. Her head was rested on her hands with her eyes closed.

The livefeed flickered on. Igor looked at Corporal Vale and back to the airlock. The scene was mirrored on Vale’s. Both of the Marines wore combat EVA suits with armor layered over it. A standard issue Colt-Kubota was tethered to their chests. Vale turned and glanced behind her, two naval ratings, Perez and Kyong stood in conventional EVA suits with a bulky shrap-vest over it. Each held a Benelli flechette shotgun in front of them.

“Huron?” William asked. He saw the airlock had made the connection. His feed showed that there was atmosphere inside.

“Coming, coming!” Huron said.

The livefeed showed Huron arriving with another orange maintenance suit behind him. Huron’s face looked worn, tired, and pale. The camera bobbed up and down.

“Ready, Captain,” Vale said.

“You’re a go, but be cautious, I don’t want to turn this into a firefight. We don’t know who’s in there,” William replied to Vale on the livefeed.

Vale’s face was tight and her nanite implanted eyes flickered red. The scars were tight lines under the tinted shield of the EVA suit. She didn’t look excited, happy, or sad, just like someone who had a job to do.

The bridge crew watched as the boarding party passed through the zero gravity umbilical and into the airlock. The movement was almost like they were swimming. A dull orange line, faded by many footsteps, marked the return to gravity.

The camera pointed at the Core Logo stenciled on the door. It had the look of something sprayed on with great care and never touched since.

Igor reached forward and pulled an access panel out of the wall. A moment later, spidery tendrils rolled out from his wrist and interfaced with the wiring. The tendrils detached and the Marines stepped to each side of the hatch. Behind them the sailors took a knee and raised the weapon up.

“Go!” Corporal Vale called and the door slammed open.

Lights flickered, revealing an empty hall with a coating of dust and grit on the floor. The cameras bobbed as the team moved inside.

William looked away from the disorienting movement. His stomach danced a bit as his mind failed to sync with the motion he was seeing. He looked over and saw Shay looking at him curiously. “Motion sickness,” he revealed.

Shay raised an eyebrow and returned her gaze to the screens.

The boarding took position at the inner airlock. The lights above the door flickered green. The crescent shaped window showed a dim orange light in the distance. The camera snapped back to the sailors and Vale barked a command. The sailors jumped to either side of the bulkhead and took position behind the Marines.

Vale raised her arm and engaged a camera on the edge of her armor. The viewscreen panned and a new window propped up, showing the inside of the space. Row upon row of open topped containers stretched into the distance. “Seeing this, Captain?” Vale asked.

“Thank you, Corporal,” William replied.

She sighed over the comms and nodded to Igor. Her voice was low. “We pop it, toss in a springer, two count and in.” She looked to Perez and Kyong. “Once we go through, stay in the doorway and cover.” She turned away and back again. “Don’t shoot until we do.”

Perez nodded rapidly, while Kyong readjusted her weapon.

“What’s a springer?” Bryce asked quickly.

“Denial grenade,” Shay said.

William nodded. “They’ll toss it in, it’ll bang, flash, spray lights, and disperse nanites. Anything to overwhelm spectrum.”

The camera panned and looked down to a side container on the edge of Igor’s armor. He pulled out a slender cylinder and tossed it over to Vale. She looked down at it for a moment and nodded to Igor. Igor slammed his armored palm against the entry lever. The door pulled away from the hinge with a rasping sound and slid away. Uneven light streamed into the open hold.

Vale flicked her wrist and tossed the slender package. It landed with a clatter and shot out like a rocket before expanding in a shower of light. Anyone caught looking, in any device, would see nothing but bright lights for a few moments.

The Marines surged inside. Vale dodged a low cart and slid up against a container with a thud. Igor tripped over a snaking power cord and clattered onto the floor. “Fuck!” he shouted as his weapon skidded out and snapped back towards him on the tether. He scrambled forward on all fours and found cover.

“Hey!” Kyong yelled, opening fire. The muzzle blast illuminated the space before her like a strobe light. Flechettes sheared out and careened off the containers.

“Cease fire!” Vale hollered.

“I saw someone!” Kyong yelled. “There!”

Vale slid to the side and scanned around the corner. A brief bit of movement was highlighted by the in-helmet computer. “Shit, Igor, get ready.” She keyed up the vocal transponder. “Lay down your weapons. We’re United Colonies Marines.”

“Shay?” William asked quickly. “Anything?”

Shay shook her head.

“You shot first,” a male voice with a French accent echoed through the hold.

“That was a mistake,” Vale replied.

“Fucking Marines. I’m coming out!”

“Hold fire!” Vale yelled to the sailors crouched in the airlock.

Vale edged to the side of container and pressed the weapon onto the top of the container. A man walked forward in the dim light with both hands held out at waist level. His gait was steady, with a slight limp. Shadows hid his face.

Vale stood slowly and sidestepped to the edge of the corridor. Motion alerts flared on the edge of her display as more people stood and made themselves known. “That all of you?”

“
Oui.
”

“Who are you?”

“Contractors. We used to work for Core.”

William stood slowly and looked closely at the screen. “Vale, get him in the light.”

Shay looked up to William curiously.

The man came closer and finally the light played across him. He smiled thinly, almost sheepishly. He was thin with a face blessed by high cheekbones and eyes that spoke of mischief. A rich layer of black stubble contrasted against the whiteness of his face.

“Leduc,” William said. “Vale! Ask him if he can still steer a boat.”

“What?” Vale snapped back.

“Ask him!”

“Can you, uh, still steer a boat?” Vale asked.

A smile turned up on the edge of his face. He squinted his eyes and peered closer at the Marines and the sailors. “William?”

“Tell him I’ll be over in a minute,” William said. He looked down to Shay. “You’ve got the bridge.”

“What are you doing?” Shay asked.

William looked back and held a hand on the edge of the bridge. “His name is Xavier Leduc. He was a soldier, we were both survivors on Redmond. We steered a boat together,” he said, the memories of that horrible night coming back to him.