Flagship (A Captain's Crucible #1) (27 page)

Yet he knew if he closed his eyes he would attain an oblivion far beyond mere sleep.

Must go on.

He forced himself to rise then took a tentative step forward into the knee-deep snow. Another. He proceeded that way, one exhausting step after the other. He had no sense of direction whatsoever, not in those whiteout conditions. He could have been walking back the way he had come as far as he knew. But he refused to give up. It simply wasn't in his nature.

A distant, ghostly voice carried to him on the wind.

Jonathan.

"Who's that?" he could barely hear his own words above the shrieking of the wind.

I've already forgiven you, Jonathan. Long ago.

"Go away! Leave me alone."
He willed himself onward.

Forgive yourself.

He started laughing maniacally. "Forgive myself? There's nothing to forgive! I left you on purpose, bitch. I wanted you to die. Why would I care about some stranger I didn't know?" He laughed all the harder.

Forgive yourself
, the voice repeated.

And then he realized what it was that he was climbing on.

A summit of self hate and guilt.

He collapsed to his knees and held his face in his hands.

It wasn't his fault that she had died.

He tried to save her. But he had to leave her.

He had no choice.

Forgive yourself.

He lowered his hands from his face and sat back in the snow.

He forgave himself.

The storm cleared. He resided on the summit of the mountain. The sky shone azure above, surrounded by kilometers of breathtaking, snow-capped ranges. It was one of the most beautiful skies he had ever witnessed in his life.

Jonathan smiled, finally at peace. "Thank you, Famina."

He opened his eyes. He resided in a hangar bay of some kind. It had been converted into a makeshift intensive care unit, judging from the patients occupying the beds beside him.

An IV tube was connected to the dorsal venous network of his hand. A heart rate monitor beeped beside him.

Suddenly worried, he lifted his hands to examine them. The skin wasn't blackened. He sat up and wiggled his toes. Everything seemed intact. No frostbite.

He lay back once more, listening to the noises of the makeshift care area around him. Those sounds should have bothered him but they didn't.

A weaver robot wheeled itself over. "Welcome back, Captain."

The crew welcomed Jonathan back to the bridge the next day.

The task unit had assumed a guard position by the exit Slipstream. The vessels were waiting for the
Marley
and her escorts to make the long trek from the inner planets. The remaining alien ship continued limping toward the uncharted inner Slipstream, 2-Vega. Jonathan was happy to let them go. He hoped that the losses the aliens had experienced would make them think twice before attacking human vessels again.

In the debriefing, Jonathan learned that Captain Rail had indeed been dealing with an alien intruder when the
Salvador
had broken formation. The intruder had made its way to the engine room and disabled one of the reactors, forcing the ship to decelerate. The on-board MOTHs had killed the alien thanks to the weapon modifications Connie's team had transmitted to the fleet in the days before. He had been wrong to distrust Rail.

Chief Rade Galaal revealed that after the shuttles abandoned him on the enemy ship, he and the combat robots spent some time wreaking further havoc. The enemy troops managed to mount a decent offense, eventually forcing Rade and the robots to evacuate the ship. As they floated there in deep space, Rade vented oxygen to link up with the remaining robots, as none of them had brought along jetpacks for the mission. Once linked, he had the bright idea to join their power sources to his enhanced PASS mechanism, boosting the distress signal far beyond the usual range—enough for the
Callaway
to pick up.

Also during the debriefing, Captain Chopra explained what happened to the
Selene
and
Aegis
when her crew passed behind the moon during the initial incident. The alien ships ambushed them, rising from a fissure in Achilles I to apply grappling hooks and board the
Selene
. The
Aegis
was destroyed trying to defend her. Captain Chopra attempted to detonate her vessel, preferring death to capture, but the self-destruct mechanism failed. As a backup plan, she wiped the AI to prevent the ship's data from falling into enemy hands.

When the debriefing was over and he found himself alone in his office, Jonathan leaned back, put his hands behind his head, and stared at the passing stars that existed only in his aReal.

"I heard you saved the ship, Maxwell," Jonathan told the AI.

"Lieutenant Stanley saved the ship," Maxwell said.

"Yes, but when the bridge crew became incapacitated, you acted."

"I did," Maxwell said.

"So I suppose I can tentatively forgive what you did to me, however misguided your actions were. I've decided not to have you decommissioned for spare parts when we return."

"Generous of you, sir," the AI said emotionlessly. "Though I was rather looking forward to my life as a toaster."

"I somehow doubt that."

"An accurate assessment," Maxwell admitted.

"But while I'm letting you off this time," Jonathan said. "If you ever cross me again, Maxwell—and I mean
ever
—you're headed for the scrap heap. Am I clear?"

"Clear as the perpetual droplets of methane rain misting the skies of Tau Ceti Prime."

Jonathan crumpled his brow. "Was that supposed to be a joke of some kind? I'm being serious here."

"Not a joke, Captain. Merely a metaphor to prove to you how clear your words were."

Jonathan shook his head. AIs.

A few days later a backup comm node arrived. That was the fifth, now. While there was a way to detect whether a return Gate existed beyond a Slipstream by means of gravimetric fluctuations, there was currently no method to determine if any vessels or comm nodes resided on the other side. So that was probably the last comm drone NAVCENT would send—redundancy protocols allowed up to five.

Since Jonathan was currently commodore of the fleet, Maxwell gave him the necessary keys to decrypt the urgent message the drone transmitted.

"This is Admiral Philip Scott, Chief of Space Naval Operations, to acting commander of Task Group Seven Two Dot Five. Stand down. Do not enact Operation Darkstar. I repeat, stand down. Do not enact Operation Darkstar."

The admiral went on to explain how the coup attempt by the rogue faction had failed and the old Sino-Korean government was back in place. The hijacked Sino-Korean supercarrier had also been recovered from the faction.

"You are not to deploy the bomb under any circumstances. Admiral Philip Scott out."

Jonathan called Robert to his office and shared the news.

"It feels good," Robert said. "Knowing that we were in the right all along. It's too bad there's no way we can alert the fleet about this new threat until we get a Gate built."

"Yes." Jonathan steepled his fingers and tapped his lips. "I only wish we wouldn't have to face any inquiries when we get back. Though I'm certain we'll be cleared of any charges, those inquiries will still mar your record."

Robert smiled calmly. "Doesn't matter. When we make it back, I've decided I'm going to turn down the position on the
Rampage
anyway. I want to remain aboard as your commander."

Jonathan sat back, shocked. "Are you sure? There's no guarantee the inquiry will ruin the opportunity. And no guarantee I'll even remain in command of the
Callaway
. Throwing away a CO post on one of the newest warships in the fleet to serve on a second-rate ship like my own... I don't have to tell you opportunities like this don't come up every day."

"I know, Captain. But I realize now all the bullshit you shield us from. If I had to serve under an admiral like Knox I'd quit the next day."

"Not every admiral is like Knox," Jonathan said.

"Enough are," Robert said. "For now my place is here, I think. There's no one I'd rather serve under. It's an honor, and a privilege."

"All right, Commander," Jonathan said. "But just in case you change your mind, I'll keep my recommendation on file."

"It won't be needed." Robert stood and turned to go.

He paused by the door.

"Oh," the commander said. "Bridgette is keeping the baby."

"I'm very happy to hear that," Jonathan replied, beaming.

"As am I. You know how precious life is to me."

"I do indeed," Jonathan said.

* * *

Several days later the fleeing alien ship reached the uncharted Slipstream.

Jonathan ordered the nukes moved from the wormhole—he didn't want the aliens to destroy the mines with its particle beam. That ship could have chased the nukes until the devices ran out of fuel, but it ignored them and headed straight for the Slipstream. Perhaps they were worried Jonathan would attempt some stratagem to destroy them in the end.

The vessel vanished shortly thereafter, confirming that the aliens had the ability to pass through the wormholes without Gates. He wasn't sure how well that would bode for any future engagements with the enemy.

Jonathan ordered the nukes back into position.

The
Marley
rejoined the fleet a few weeks later and began construction of a return Gate. The current estimate for construction was six months; that included the time necessary to make mineral runs to different asteroids in the system. The
Callaway
wouldn't participate as escort in those runs, not for three or four months anyway—she was undergoing extensive repairs.

Jonathan activated the external video feed and focused on the Builder. It had already laid down a quarter of the Gate's frame.

Six months. Could the fleet survive that long?

His gaze drifted to the tactical display overlaying his vision and he stared at the 2-Vega Slipstream, where the next alien attack was likely to come.

Six months.

Jonathan vowed to bring the
Callaway
and all the remaining vessels of the task group back home in one piece.

It was his duty as commander of the flagship.

This is the end.

Thank you for reading!

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bestselling author Isaac Hooke holds a degree in engineering physics, though his more unusual inventions remain fictive at this time. He is an avid hiker, cyclist, and photographer who sometimes resides in Edmonton, Alberta.

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