Infinity's End: Books 4-6, page 35
No, she wasn’t going to abandon them, not after spending a lifetime trying to get to this point. She was now officially a starship captain. And it was her duty to protect the Coalition and its citizens from all threats, whether they be internal or external. It was her duty to sacrifice her life and the lives of those under her command for this purpose if necessary. And the one thing she could not do was give up.
She tapped the comm on the side of the desk. “Volf, report to the command room. Immediately.” A few seconds later the chime on her door rang. “Enter.”
“Yes, comm—I’m sorry. Captain.” Ever since the attack, personal hygiene had taken a backseat to more important matters, which meant her normally spiky pink hair hadn’t been up for a while and she wore it loose now. A large crop of it came down on her forehead at almost a point, but Evie thought she liked it better that way.
“You’re a senior bridge officer. I need a secondary input authorization before I make these changes final.” Evie tapped her monitor, so the same image was displayed on the other side. Volf took a moment to read them.
“The transfer codes. I’m guessing this means—”
“The captain won’t be recovering,” she said. “I know you and I don’t always see eye to eye, but it’s my responsibility to see this ship and her crew gets home and report what little we’ve learned. Maybe it will help and maybe it won’t make a difference, but it’s our duty to try.”
“Hey, you don’t have to tell me,” she said. “Lifelong military brat here. I know the stakes.” She pressed her hand to the screen. “Authorization Volf, Delta, Sigma, Epsilon four-two-five.”
Evie pressed her hand to her side of the screen as well. “Authorization Diazal, Tau, Gamma, Alpha nine-six-one.”
The screen flashed “Confirmed. Command transfer complete.”
“I guess that’s that,” Evie said.
“Congratulations,” Volf replied. “Despite the circumstances.”
“For what it’s worth,” Evie said as Volf turned to leave. “I’m sorry about what happened on the shuttle. I wasn’t in my right mind and I had no right to hold you like that.”
Volf shrugged. “You turned out to be right. And you got us out of that mine field. I may not always agree with all your decisions, but I don’t question your motives.”
Evie set her face. “The next time you disagree with my decisions, I expect you to bring the matter to me, instead of speaking to others behind my back.”
Volf’s face went red and she opened her mouth to reply, but instead shut it again.
“Dismissed, Commander.” Evie nodded. Volf hesitated, then left her alone in the command room without another word. If there was one thing she wasn’t about to stand for it was insubordination.
Transferring all the codes had been the easy step. But what came next was near impossible. Evie sighed, thinking maybe she should stop by her quarters before heading to sickbay. She could hold her grandmother’s sword, look for a little comfort in what little connection she had to her family. It was too bad she couldn’t carry it around the ship all the time; maybe she’d open up the rules about personal weapons, she was in charge after all. And they were on the frontier. She felt a lot better with it within reach at all times.
Evie double-checked her uniform to make sure she’d properly affixed the captain’s rank. When she’d put it on the first time it had been a temporary measure and thus hadn’t been secured well. But now the bar was straight and aligned with the rest. When they were back up to capacity, she’d make a full new uniform with all the appropriate trimmings but for the time being this was good enough. She just hated how it had come about. Looking around, she reflected on how solitary this moment was. Greene wasn’t here, neither was Laura, or Cas, or even Box. It was just her alone with what was probably the most important promotion of her career. And she’d essentially given it to herself.
She took a deep breath, straightened her uniform and strode out the door onto the bridge. “Report,” she said.
“All quiet,” Lieutenant Uuma said. “But it’s been almost twelve hours since the last attack.”
“Are Rafnkell and her pilots ready?”
Uuma nodded. “They’ve taken up new positions. Ever since Vrij gave us the info we’ve destroyed every fighter that’s approached us. But there’s no telling what else they’ve got out there. She’s not taking any chances.”
“Good,” Evie said, glancing around at the rest of the bridge crew. They were all visibly tired, except for Zaal of course, but everyone had been pulling extra shifts to cover the loss in manpower when so many of the crew had died at Omicron Terminus. “Maybe if we’re lucky they’ll decide we’re not worth the trouble anymore and go pick on an easier target.”
“Hope so,” Uuma replied.
“Commander, you have the bridge. I have something to take care of in sickbay,” Evie said. The air on the bridge went still. A few people at their stations glanced at her, but most kept their eyes on their duties. She hoped someone would come out and say “No! You can’t! There still might be a chance he’s going to be okay!” but no one did. Evie hadn’t made it public just how dire Greene’s condition was, but she had informed the crew he wouldn’t be recovering. Now instead of twenty-two funerals they were going to need to have twenty-three.
“Yes, ma’am,” Volf said from the engineering station. She stepped forward and took the command chair while Evie retreated to the main hypervator, her heart thundering in her chest. If Volf was upset about their prior encounter only moments ago she didn’t show it. Evie wished Xax could have made this call without her. Even though she knew it was the right thing to do it didn’t make the actual act of telling Xax to cut the life support any easier.
On the way down in the hypervator her grief mutated into something closer to anger. This was how it should have been with her father. She should have had to make the call for him, not her captain. But he’d denied her that in his insanity. She hadn’t looked forward to ending his life but she’d always thought doing so would have given her a sense of closure that was otherwise missing from her life. And now she had to make the decision for someone she felt much closer to; someone she respected. Damn her father. And damn Captain Greene for leaving her in this position. She wasn’t ready to say goodbye to him. He’d been the perfect captain and mentor, the one who upheld everything about the Coalition, despite what he knew or suspected. He always believed humans could be better when they worked with other species and he hadn’t been wrong. This crew had done remarkably well under his guidance and now she had to find a way to rise to his level. To become as good a captain as he was, if that was possible.
Evie stepped into sickbay, swallowing the lump in her throat. It remained empty of patients just as before. Good, less people to watch. Box glanced up from one of the beds on the far side of the room and walked over to her. “Hello, Captain. Are you ready?”
Evie nodded. “Let’s get this over with. I don’t want him to suffer any more than he already has.”
Box led her into the second compartment and then into the surgery room where Greene was already out on one of the surgery beds. His eyes were closed, and he was attached to several devices via hoses or electrodes, all of which she assumed were keeping his bodily functions going. Xax approached from behind, her steps soft on the hard floor. “Captain,” she said softly.
“What do we need to do?” Evie asked. She’d never had to go through this process before. Greene’s normally clean face was now covered in a salt and pepper beard, though it was short. She’d have to make sure he was given a good shave before the funeral.
“I need your approval on this form,” Xax said. “Right beside my own.” She held out a small bar that when activated showed the authorization form to end a human life. Xax had already provided her approval. As Evie’s finger hovered over the pad she reflected at how similar this was to what she’d just gone through with Volf in the command room. One thing begins and another ends. She touched the pad, providing her personal authentication. “Okay,” Xax whispered. “Box, let’s go ahead and start.”
Box nodded, moving around Evie as he and Xax went to work turning off all the machines. One by one they stopped what small noises they were making. Greene’s chest rose and fell, though with each breath it seemed to become shallower.
“It won’t take long,” Xax said. “You can stay here if you like.”
“Yeah,” Evie replied. “No one should be alone during this.” She reached over and picked up Greene’s hand, placing it in her own. It was cold and rough, like he’d already been gone a while. Xax nodded and excused herself without another word.
“I’ll stay too if you like,” Box said.
“I would, thank you.”
The robot positioned himself on the other side of the bed and held Greene’s other hand. “Just to make double sure he knows,” Box said.
Evie smiled as tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. Silently she said her goodbyes as Cordell Greene took his finals breaths and fell silent.
Chapter Eighteen
If Cas thought the journey from the shuttle to Diamant’s compound was long, the way back was twice as bad. They were all still feeling the effects of the Ossak, but it seemed to have hit Ryant the worst. Laura at least had managed to stay on her own two feet, though she swayed the whole way back. Diamant had sent the two guards to accompany them back until he could arrange allocation of the materials they needed along with one of his own ships that would be flying back with them. Cas only hoped it would give them enough time to sober up.
“What the hell was in that stuff?” Cas asked, holding Ryant up by one side while Vrij held him up by the other as they helped him stumble along through the streets. The guards remained ahead of them while Laura pulled up the rear.
“O-ossak is a rarity…or was. E-expensive. Farmed in the c-coldest temperatures of Laq. It has a c-chemical which is s-said to remove—”
“Remove distractions, yes, I heard that part,” Cas snapped. Ryant was damn heavy and he was having enough trouble keeping himself from falling, much less a ninety-five-kilogram man.
“It also h-has chemicals t-that alter the neurotransmitters in the b-brain. O-other species seem to e-experience similar effects.”
Fuck. The one time he’d been required to get drunk and it had put him in a precarious negotiating position. The only thing that probably saved him was his existing tolerance. He couldn’t even imagine what Laska would have said if she’d seen him back there. Although she did say to keep another species’ cultural norms in mind, that it was always a good idea to assimilate yourself into their standards as best you could. To show a willingness to compromise. He wasn’t sure Diamant had appreciated it as much as perhaps someone else. There was something deceptive about that man, like he was running a hidden agenda but wanted you to know it. Or maybe that was just the Ossak talking. Whatever the reason, Cas felt like he’d done a bad job at the negotiating table. He’d given up a lot and wasn’t confident it was worth the risk.
“Are we close?” Cas called to the guards ahead of him. He’d lost track of their route in his attempts to keep Ryant vertical. One guard turned back tapping his chest with his hand. Thank Kor. If he had to hold this buffalo much longer, they were all going to end up sprawled on the street just like the people curled up in the alleyways. Cas only hoped Diamant would lead these people to a better future. But he wasn’t sure that could happen.
They rounded the corner to see the shuttle still sitting on one of the pads. Cas reached over with some difficulty and tapped the comm on his hand. “Hey, Saturn? You still in there?”
Her face appeared in the window and she threw up a hand. “You guys don’t look so good.”
“Get down here and help us, Ryant is…drunk.” She opened the main bay doors in the back as Cas and Vrij maneuvered Ryant around the landing gear. “You okay back there?” he asked Laura.
She stumbled at the sudden attention but caught herself. “Fine.”
Jann came jogging around the edge of the ship and got up under Cas’s side, relieving him of Ryant’s weight. “What the hell did he have?”
“Some Bulaq concoction,” Cas said. “Vrij will be happy to tell you about it later.” Cas turned back to Laura. “Get back on the ship. Sleep it off.”
She glanced between him and the guards, who had stopped short of the ramp to the ship. “You sure?”
He felt the heft of his boomcannon under his jacket. “I’m sure.”
After the four of them had departed, Cas led the guards to the crates of supplies. “Here is a sample of what we have. This is Diamant’s, as a sign of goodwill.”
The guards tapped their chests. “Thank you. We will deliver it to those who need it most. Keep your ship here until we return. And prepare a volunteer or two to accompany our ship.”
“Got it,” Cas said, his brain still foggy. That walk hadn’t done him any favors. He felt like he’d been sent through a compression modulator and hadn’t come out the other side. The guards unloaded the crates and when they were done Cas moved into the crew section of the shuttle. Ryant and Laura lay on two of the beds, stacked one on top of the other, each snoring softly. Vrij was nowhere to be found. A pulse ran through Cas’s heart and he bolted to the front compartment to find Jann and Vrij in the only two seats, engaged in conversation.
She glanced up when he entered. “He was just explaining to me the properties of Ossak, is it?”
“Yes.”
“Sounds like heavy stuff.” She returned her attention to Cas. “What’s the play?”
Cas eyed Vrij for a moment. “We’re taking some of them back with us. They’ll bring all our materials and when we get to Tempest, we’ll load our end of the agreement on their shuttle and that will be that.”
“Sounds simple enough.”
“It always does.”
“We also need a volunteer to go with them. In the spirit of cooperation. Since I’m the only one left standing who can’t fly a shuttle, it seems obvious.” Cas leaned up against the bulkhead, his head pounding. He wasn’t sure he could handle spending a full day on an alien shuttle. He wasn’t willing to trust Diamant as the one to accompany the rest of them.
“I-I will also go,” Vrij offered. “Two t-targets.”
“Two targets?” Cas asked.
“I think he means with you both there you won’t have to bear the burden alone,” Jann said.
Cas rubbed his head. “That makes sense. Thanks.” Vrij tapped his chest. Having him there would be better because at least Cas could keep an eye on him; he trusted Vrij only marginally more than Diamant. “What is it between you two anyway?”
Vrij lowered his head. “U-used to work—were in training together. He n-never gave me a c-chance. S-said I was t-too different.” He shrugged, indicating the mechanical mandibles on his back.
“You’re an outcast. But I thought his thing was he wanted to save all Bulaq life. I would think with so few of you left every last individual would be important,” Cas replied.
“D-diamant often says one t-thing, means another.” Vrij He clicked his fingers together in a sort of rhymical tapping.
“I’ve gathered that much at least,” Cas replied. “And yet you were the one who suggested him to us. We’re here because of you.”
“B-because you’re desperate. B-because there are n-no o-other options.”
Cas took a deep breath. “I’m going to lie down and try to get rid of this headache before we have to leave. Can you keep an eye on him?” he asked.
Jann nodded. “I’ll wake you when its time.” As Cas left, he heard Vrij ask what the motion Jann had made with her head meant. Perhaps on the trip back he could introduce the Bulaq to all their mannerisms, and vice versa. That should take at least a couple of hours. But the main thing was he needed to get as much sleep as he could because once he was on that ship he wasn’t closing his eyes for a second. Otherwise he might never open them again.
Two hours later Cas was still nursing the headache while boarding the Bulaq ship. It was comparable in size to the Hymettus but with less frills. It was long, with increasingly-large segments toward the back, with the smallest segment at the front making up the command deck while the cargo area was composed of one large section surrounded by four diagonal “wings” which he assumed controlled the undercurrent. It was about five times as large as Vrij’s ship but made of the same materials. The colors and composition made it easy to tell they were built by the same people. It also differed from the attack ships that had been strafing Tempest as it didn’t seem to have any offensive weapons and seemed to Cas to be bulky and difficult to maneuver. Vrij led him around back to where a large ramp had extended, allowing the Bulaq to load up all their materials.
Once inside he could tell it had been more luxurious but had been chopped up and repurposed since. He had to admit, when faced with adversity the Bulaq didn’t waste any time in making whatever adjustments were necessary to survive. Had an attack like that happened on Earth or any of the Coalition worlds he was damn sure they wouldn’t be in this kind of position in less than three seasons. They’d still be in a disarray, but it was almost like the Bulaq had been prepared to deal with this on some level. Except for the lack of food, that was.
In the cargo section hammocks had been hung from the high walls, each accessible by ladders on the sides of the cargo bay. It was possible the Bulaq hollowed out any permanent crew quarters for parts, or this was just how they traveled on their ships. Around him a dozen—not a half-dozen as he’d been told—Bulaq loaded all the materials on the shuttle without a word to him or Vrij. They all seemed tired but didn’t utter a word of complaint. Vrij directed Cas to follow him.
Deeper in the ship they passed an area full of scanning equipment that had been forced into part of the ship where it didn’t belong, requiring him and Vrij to step over wires, consoles and temporary bulkheads supporting all the haphazard devices. Cas noticed not all of them looked to be of Bulaq design. He was about to ask Vrij about this when they crossed into a short corridor which could only lead to the command deck.
