The Honour of the Knights (First Edition) (45 page)

Dodds
looked back over his shoulder with what he hoped was a confident
smile. The man he walked towards was sat crossed-legged on the
floor, hunched over a bowl of noodles, two chopsticks clasped in
his hand. He glanced up as Dodds approached him, a look of fear
spreading across his features. He shuffled backward as Dodds drew
closer and began shaking his head before turning his full attention
back to his food, not wishing to make eye contact.

“
Hi, how you doing?” Dodds began.
“I
’
m
looking for a woman… er… girl? You know… not a man?” He
gestured towards men and women as he spoke, hoping to make it clear
which gender he was after.

“
’
t talk to me!
There
’
s already
been enough trouble today! Just leave me alone!>” the man
spluttered back at him. His hands started to shake and he tried to
continue eating, unable to manipulate the sticks enough to grasp
the food in the bowl.

Dodds looked around at Estelle who shrugged with puzzlement,
not understanding, either. He tried again, “She
’
s a bit shorter than me, long black
hair…”

“
” the man
spluttered again, before casting his bowl in
Dodds
’
direction. He struggled to his feet, pushing aside those
behind him in a bid to escape, his bowl of noodles clattering to
the ground, spilling its warm contents across the white marble
tiled floor. The
Knights
watched as he left, other refugees nearby moving
closer to one another and a bit further back from the five
pilots.

“
This isn
’
t going to be easy,” Enrique said.
Estelle was in agreement. They were going to have to apply a little
more effort if they hoped to locate their contact amongst all these
people.

“
We
’
ll just have to search for someone
who is a little more cooperative,” Estelle said. “Split up and see
if you can find someone who is more willing to talk.
We
’
ll try this
central area first and then move on into the other parts of the
port. If any of you get into any sort of trouble, shout and
we
’
ll come get
you. The moment you find out
anything
,
I
want to know. Don
’
t do anything without me, that
’
s an order. Let
’
s go, people. The sooner we find
the agent, the sooner we can leave and get back to
Griffin
.”

XX

—
Hawke’s Ambition —

O
n the bridge of
Ifrit
,
helmsman Alan Cox stood waiting patiently as an engineer took
a look at his console. It was not behaving as it should: the
touch-sensitive surface seeming to be off by a few inches. Every
time he tapped at the screen, there was a chance that a different
control to the one he wanted might be activated. He had started to
become concerned when some of the more delicate operations he
needed to perform while the carrier continued to search for the
missing
Griffin
became more difficult to execute. For a time, he had traded
places with the controller across from him, so that he could
continue his duty. But now that the carrier was holding position,
pausing in its search, he had taken the opportunity to have the
problem dealt with.

“
Looks like one of the calibration relay nodes has given out,”
the engineer said from beneath the console, pulling out a small
circuit board.

“
Do you have a spare?” Cox asked, toying with a screwdriver
the engineer had used to remove the bottom panel of the
console.

“
Plenty. I can go and get one and be back
up soon. Shouldn
’
t take more than ten or fifteen
minutes. Do you need it urgently?”

“
So-so,” the navigator replied. “The
captain has ordered us to hold position here. According to
him,
Griffin
should be somewhere close by. But so far we
haven
’
t detected
anything, not even on the long range scanners.”

The way
Hawke had been acting had set Cox on edge. He had voiced these
concerns with some of the other crew once his captain had departed
the bridge, on his way to his private office to receive a
communication that had come in from CSN HQ. Though they did not
talk for long, it became evident that the rest of the crew shared
his feelings.

Upon his return, Hawke had ordered that they jump to an
adjoining star system, in which they would at last find
Griffin
. But within
minutes of
Ifrit
arriving at its destination, the commodore had once again
departed.

Following the allied forces
’
failed attempt to retake
Dragon,
and the unusual
disappearance of
Griffin
, Hawke had ordered Meyers to
return to Spirit alone. He had then taken
Ifrit
and begun a systematic sweep
of the nearest adjacent star systems to Aster, in case
Griffin
had become
stranded in one of those. But though they had hunted for many
hours, their search had turned up nothing, the likelihood of
finding
Griffin
close by diminishing with each system they came
to.

It was as they scanned their fifth system that Hawke had
received the message from naval headquarters. It had informed him
that
Griffin
had
been located and, as luck would have it, was drifting in a star
system alongside the one they were currently scanning.
Hawke had ordered that
Ifrit
make that their destination.
But upon arriving, the crew had been greeted by nothing except
another empty system, the only highlight of the region being the
twisted hues of the nebulas that were so prominent in that part of
the galaxy. Hawke had returned to his private office to watch the
message again, so as to, as he had put it, “ensure that he had not
made a mistake”.

After his lack of commitment to the previous battle, the crew
were beginning to question his command. Cox was not about to
challenge the man
’
s authority, however; the thought of a stay in the brig and a
court-martial were not high on his list of priorities.

“
Are you sure we
’
re in the right place?” the
engineer wanted to know, emerging from beneath and console and
looking out the thick glass windows of
Ifrit
‘s
main viewport, to the empty space beyond. “You could have
punched the wrong destination into the console?
Wouldn
’
t be
surprising the way this thing is so out of whack.”

“
I was using that one,” said Cox, indicating the console
across from his own.

“
Maybe I should check that one, too?” the engineer
suggested.

At that moment, Cox heard the bridge lift doors open and
looking around he saw Hawke come striding down the long aisle,
people on either side turning in anticipation of what
Ifrit
‘s
captain would say about the situation.

“
Sir,” Cox requested his
captain
’
s
attention. “We
’
ve
performed a full sweep of the system and we
’
ve not been able to detect
G
riffin
. Either it
’
s not here or we
’
re in the wrong place.”

“
No, Lieutenant,
we
’
re
exactly where we need to be,” Hawke answered him, eyes focused on
the space ahead of him, not shifting his head the slightest bit to
acknowledge the man who had spoken.

“
Sir…” Cox tried to engage Hawke once more.

“
Wait
,
Lieutenant,” was all that Hawke said.

Cox
turned and looked at the engineer, who gave a slight shrug. It
appeared to him that Hawke was watching for something. Cox heard
confused whispers being exchanged across the length of the bridge,
many seeking an explanation for Hawke’s statement. The answer came
in the form of a number of consoles, that all started to
wail.

“
Captain, jump points forming!” a
woman
’
s
voice called out. “We
’
ve got incoming on the port, stern… All sides, sir!” She,
as did many others, looked to Hawke for the course of action to
take. But despite what he had just been told, the man did not so
much as even flinch. Hawke stood still, watching ahead of him as a
large jump point swirled into existence. From out of it slipped the
dagger-like form of
D
ragon
, the enormous Confederation
battleship slowing as it drew itself up to
Ifrit
.

During the previous battle
Ifrit
had held back from the action,
granting Cox only the merest of suggestions as to the tremendous
size of the battleship. Now, with the hulking mass of
Dragon
bearing down upon
them, Cox found himself wishing he could once again be much further
away; the other side of the galaxy preferably.

“
Captain, radars indicate a number of Imperial frigates have
exited jump points and are on approach vectors,” the same woman
reported.

Hawke
said nothing.

“
Captain, I suggest we put full power to
shields, arm weaponry and prepare to withdraw from the system,”
Lucas Short, Hawke
’
s second in command,
said.

“
Stand down!” Hawke spun around, addressing
the crew for the first time since returning to the bridge. Cox,
stood the closest to the man, subconsciously backed up. Hawke’s
eyes were alight, almost daring anyone to challenge him.
“We
’
re
completely surrounded! We make any sign of aggression and they will
blow this ship to pieces!”

For a moment, Cox did not know what they should be more
afraid of: the arrival of
Dragon
and a host of Imperial warships, or Commodore
Hawke. He turned worried eyes in the direction of the engineer, who
had backed off a lot more, himself.

“
Sir,
D
ragon
is
requesting communications,” the operative of the console adjacent
to Cox’s said.

“
Grant it,” Hawke said.

A
holographic screen sprung up at the front of the bridge moments
later. The screen showed a man whom none of the crew failed to
recognise, having seen his face not hours earlier that morning,
during the mission briefing.

“
This is Fleet Admiral Zackaria of the
Imperial Senate battleship,
D
ragon
,”
began the highly-decorated man on the holographic projection. “You
will surrender immediately. Drop your shields and prepare to be
boarded.” Zackaria
’
s face was impassive throughout his brief speech.

“
As you wish, Admiral,” Hawke said. Zackaria’s statement was
short, but to the point, and Hawke made no attempt whatsoever to
argue against it.

Cox felt
his blood freeze as Hawke turned to look straight at him. There was
something about the look in his eyes; as if all humanity had been
stripped clean. Cox fought an urge to flee and escape the unwanted
attention.

“
Relay the order that we are to receive boarders. All crew are
to stand down. We are to give Admiral Zackaria full, unchallenged
access to the ship.”

“
Sir, my console…” Cox somehow managed.

Hawke’s eyes lowered, seeing the panel beneath lying open on
the floor. He looked to a man sat at the console across from
Cox
’
s.

“
Mr Parsons…” Hawke said.

“
Captain, might I suggest that we take immediate actions
to…” Short interrupted.

“
We are
surrounded
, Mr Short,” Hawke flared.
He looked again to the man he had addressed as Parsons. “Relay the
order to stand down.”

Parsons
hesitated for a moment and then did as he was ordered, his voice
issuing from speakers and echoing down the numerous corridors of
the ship.

Cox
began to wonder if this was some sort of ruse, designed to lure the
Imperial admiral over to the carrier, where he could be dealt with.
If it was, it was a particularly dangerous one, with no apparent
room for error.