Counterstrike (Fleet Ops Book 2), page 16
Zeph’s nostrils flared, but she said nothing.
Jake forced himself to gain control of his temper. “Tucker was family. We had our disagreements, but I loved him like a brother.”
Zeph snorted derisively. She turned and picked up her flight helmet, then walked past Jake without another word, storming out of the hangar.
Jake knew he had to take some kind of disciplinary action against Zeph now. He’d have to figure out what form it would take. Yet another unpleasant task ahead of him.
He looked up, hoping to share a glance of commiseration with Ash, but she wouldn’t meet his gaze. He glanced at Moe, but she, too, had found something else to focus on.
He looked at the other members of the team, but nobody would meet his eye.
In the wake of the argument, the rest of the team silently gathered their gear and made their way out of the landing bay.
As far as Jake was concerned, that was the worst thing that could have happened.
Chapter 35
Officers’ Quarters
Deck 18, UHC Relentless
Fesky awoke in a cold sweat, her feathers rustling as she shivered.
Her nightmare was fading, but the voice she’d heard over the coms kept coming again and again. The voice of Husher. The other Husher. The madman who’d tortured her to within an inch of her life. She’d tried to kill him in the brig, and would have, too, if somebody hadn’t stopped her. Husher had convinced her that she had nothing to worry about.
But look at where that had gotten them. That madman was more powerful than ever.
Fesky launched out of bed, dressed, and left her quarters in a mad dash for the flight deck.
When she got there, she couldn’t quite figure out why she was there. There was no logical reason to visit the flight deck. She didn’t have a sortie heading out. There was no meeting to attend, no post-action discussion to have. The flight deck was quiet: just a few deck workers checking the Python ordnance and doing routine maintenance on the fighters.
She wandered aimlessly among the fighters, nodding to workers as she went. A few recognized her even without her flight gear.
She gasped when she saw Husher looking at her from the polished surface of one of the fighters. He smiled: a menacing smile, full of hatred.
Fesky spun around and almost ran into a man pushing a cart of munitions. “Watch out,” he said in a bit of a panic, as he reached out to stabilize his load.
“Sorry,” she stammered. “I was just startled.”
The man looked past her shoulder. “By what?”
“By—” Fesky turned back around. There was nobody there. No Husher. No Evil Husher. Just the gleaming Python fighter. It must have been one of the newer units, added just before they came to this hellhole of a universe.
“Ma’am?”
Fesky shook her head. “It’s nothing.” She stumbled on, turning the corner around another fighter, so that it cut her off from the man’s line of sight.
Her grip on reality was slipping.
The words that Husher had said kept running through her mind. She felt herself sweating and shaking again. She’d tried to reach Husher twice on the coms on the way here, but he was in a meeting with the other captains and the admiral.
There was one person she knew she could talk to. And now, she realized, she must have subconsciously been headed there all along. That was why she found herself on the flight deck. Because she knew he’d be here.
She headed toward the far end of the hangar, where the offices were. Before she’d crossed half the hangar, she heard a familiar voice call out to her.
“Fesky,” said Major Callum from behind her. “What brings you to my flight deck on this fine day, when you’re supposed to be off?” Fesky turned to face him. “I don’t see how R&R can include hanging out on the flight deck.”
She knew he was joking. It was clear in his body language, which she was getting better at reading again. That was one of the things she’d been regressing on since the…incident with the other Husher in the Progenitor universe.
“Maybe that’s exactly how I like my R&R. Hanging out with the fighters during the days I’m not flying them.”
Callum smiled, but she could see the concern on his face. Her effort to seem nonchalant had clearly failed. Usually, she could rely on her alien nature to keep the humans from being able to read her emotional state. But in this case, it seemed, Callum was more than up to the task.
“What’s wrong, Fesky?”
She shook her head. “Major, may I request a private conversation with you?”
As always when she made a formal request, Callum smirked. “You can have one, and you don’t even need to request it. C’mon.”
He led her to his office, stopping only once to have a word with one of the deck hands, with a question about which fighters to have in which tubes for the next launch. They were constantly rotating and shifting the fighters, based on the expected workload. Fesky could barely keep track of it all, but it seemed to come effortlessly to Callum.
“It’s that broadcast, isn’t it?” Callum said as soon as the office door was closed.
Fesky stared at him in surprise. “Who told you that?”
“I know there’s…history there. It’s not common knowledge, per se, but it’s well-enough known in the command circles.”
“You’ve known that since you vouched for me to fly with you?” Fesky squawked. She was shocked. “Did the doctor tell you?”
“That would be a breach of privacy. And it wasn’t the captain, either. Honestly, it doesn’t matter where I heard what, because I don’t care. You’re a damn good pilot and you deserve to be out there, not cooped up in here.”
Fesky felt her shoulders slump a little. “I’m not so sure about that.”
“Well, only one of us has to be. So what brings you down here, exactly? Other than freaking out over that voice, which let me tell you, I’m not a fan of either.”
“We can’t trust him,” she blurted out.
Callum didn’t seem to notice. He shifted some paperwork on his desk.
“Did you hear me, sir? We can’t trust him one bit.”
“I hear you,” Callum said. “And I agree with you.”
Fesky clicked her beak together. “Have you spoken to the captain about this?”
Callum chuckled. “You’ve mistaken my relationship with Captain Husher for yours. We don’t have friendly chats. We talk tactics. Strategy. We talk getting our people out of here alive. I don’t offer him advice on command decisions for the ship, and he doesn’t ask me for them.”
Fesky shook her head. “Then what can we do?”
“We can trust the captain.” Callum sighed. “Look, I get it, but here’s the thing. We can’t trust that evil thing, even if he does have some bizarre connection with our captain. But we can trust the captain himself. I’ve trusted Captain Husher with my life on more than one occasion, and I’m willing to do it again.”
“I’m just not sure—”
“Trust the captain.” Callum’s voice was gentle.
Fesky swallowed. She closed her eyes, set her beak, then nodded. She breathed a little easier after a moment longer. The inside of Callum’s office was musty, but the tight confines were somehow comforting to her, like a nest.
“You’re right,” she said at last.
“Now there are some words that are music to a superior’s ears.” Callum grinned, then stood and slapped her on the shoulder playfully. It ruffled her feathers and wasn’t altogether pleasant, but it was a common enough human gesture that she was used to it and didn’t let it bother her.
“I—I’m still not sure I can fly right now. I don’t feel well.”
Callum looked her up and down, nodding as he did. “I can see that.”
Fesky frowned. “What does that mean?”
He smiled. “Oh, I’m sorry, am I wrong?”
“I just don’t think there’s anything about my appearance that suggests the point I’m making—”
Callum interrupted her by putting his hand on her shoulder. Again, she didn’t love the sensation of it, but she recognized the value of it for humans and their constant craving for contact. “Commander, listen to me.” He nodded over his shoulder to the flight deck beyond. “You could fly one of those things in your sleep. If you’re at fifty percent, you’re still worth five of my other pilots. And I love all my pilots, so that makes you something like my favorite child.”
Fesky smiled in spite of her emotional state. “Thank you, Major.”
“We need you out there,” Callum said. “I need you out there. You were born to fly those things, and we both know it.”
Fesky felt a warm feeling of pride running through her cold-blooded veins. It was irrational, she knew. He’d given her a standard pep talk, nothing more. But in spite of herself, she felt better.
She nodded at Callum as he opened the door to his office and slid out the door to the flight deck beyond. Just as she was born to fly, Callum was born to lead.
As usual, Husher knew how to put the right people in the right places.
Callum was a natural, and as she walked out of his office, she was glad to know that he was the CAG.
Chapter 36
Officers’ Quarters
Deck 18, UHC Relentless
Shota watched Fesky walk down the corridor and turn the corner into her quarters. He’d knocked on her door twice, then waited around like a first-year midshipman for her to return. He felt foolish about it in a way, but he was also desperate. Maybe even as desperate as a first-year midshipman.
He knocked on her hatch and waited, fidgeting, for her to answer it.
“Commander,” she said. If she was surprised to see him, Shota couldn’t hear it in her voice. Then again, that simultaneously melodic and grating bird voice of hers made it hard for Shota to read much of anything into Fesky’s voice.
“May I have a word?” Shota asked.
Fesky nodded and immediately turned. Shota entered to find that her quarters were about what he’d expected them to be in his mind: clean and meticulously well-organized, with very few personal items.
Truth be told, that was the same thing one would find in his own quarters. That was why he wanted to talk to Fesky. For some reason, he trusted her. Maybe it was the fact that she, too, was an outsider. But he suspected it was because, at the end of the day, she knew Husher better than anyone else on the ship.
“I need to get back in the CIC,” he said, seeing no reason to beat around the bush with someone who, he suspected, appreciated directness as much as he did.
“That will take time.”
Shota shook his head. “I’m the XO. It’s not right that I’m down in my quarters twiddling my thumbs when the ship could use me.”
“Where the captain orders you is the right place to be. What you do with your thumbs is immaterial.”
Shota sighed. “You know him better than I ever will. What can I do?”
“Be patient,” Fesky said. “You’ll have to prove yourself to him.”
“I will, if I ever get a chance.”
“You’ll get it. Captain Husher is always looking for a way to let his people prove themselves to him. I’ve seen it a dozen times. He wants you to succeed.”
“But I have to be patient.”
“Indeed. Find ways you can help outside the CIC. Keep the crew’s morale up. Wash dishes in the crew’s mess.”
Shota tried again to tell if there was slightest hint in her voice that she was joking, but he heard nothing like that. “Do the dishes?”
“Dedication to the ship, the crew, and the mission will go a long way with Husher.” She paused. “And a dash of humility, in your case, would also assist in that endeavor.”
This time, Shota had to ask. “Is that sarcasm, Fesky?”
She cocked her head. “It’s honesty,” she said. “And maybe a little sarcasm.”
Shota smiled and shook his head. He couldn’t help but notice how much more confident in herself she seemed than the last time he’d seen her. She’d come a long way.
“Fair enough,” he said. “I’ll go check the roster for cleaning duty.”
Fesky nodded. “A good start. But just remember that’s not some exercise to check off a list. The point is to actually put the ship, the crew, and the mission ahead of your own ego, Lieutenant Commander.”
Well, now it wasn’t so cute. Now it was just condescending. But he thanked her for the advice.
He could do this, he told himself. He could show Husher that he was a team player. He wasn’t going to pretend like he bought into it, but he could at least play along, for no other reason than to get himself back in the CIC where he belonged.
Chapter 37
Tactical War Room
UHC Providence
“It’s a trap,” Captain Marcy said. “It’s so obvious it hurts. Haven’t we bumbled into enough of these situations already? We should be dead.”
“Plenty of people already are,” Captain Carlyle said gravely. “And I have to agree. It’s clear we can’t trust this Woe character.”
All the officers around the table, consciously or not, glanced over at Husher when the name was mentioned. They were all trying desperately not to call him Evil Husher or Other Husher or any-other-name Husher. For his part, Husher would prefer those names to using the strange, outrageous one that his doppelgänger had given himself.
A handful of officers around the table nodded in agreement.
“But we still have nothing to go on without his help,” said Captain Hystad. He shrugged, his hands held high. “What, exactly, are we planning to do? If not this, then what?”
“We continue to protect the Scion homeworld,” Marcy said, banging on about an issue he’d been stuck on for five minutes now. It was clear that everyone at the table had their own preconceived notions of what the battle group should do, and as far as Husher could see, they’d made little headway in convincing anyone else to change their mind.
Just like every other high-level meeting I’ve attended.
“Protect them how?” Captain Hystad replied sharply. “Your scientists were some of the first to identify the phenomenon in space. We aren’t going to be able to stay here and just sit around and wait to see what happens. The Brood are actively corrupting the space here.” He turned to the admiral. “What am I missing? You agree with me, right, Admiral Iver?”
Iver raised a hand to both acknowledge Hystad and to perhaps calm him down. There were plenty of others at the table that needed to calm down as well. “You all know what we know: both about the Brood, and about what they’re doing to the space here. As well as what that bastard told us when he took over our coms.”
Bastard, Husher thought. He liked that better than any of the other names he’d heard, and it was apt. Though after what that bastard had done to so many of his friends and soldiers over the years, not to mention Fesky, bastard was too kind a title for him.
“Well?” Iver said.
Husher realized he’d been lost in his own thoughts. “Say again, Admiral.”
Iver sighed. “I asked what your thoughts were, Vin. You’ve been very quiet.”
Husher nodded. “I’m a little close to it, so I wanted to hear what everyone else had to say first.” Several officers nodded in appreciation of that, but plenty of others were stone-faced. There was a lot of animosity over the way that the situation had been handled with the other Husher. It wasn’t that any officers around the table had a problem with him being brought along. It was the fact that they hadn’t been informed, and now had to deal with the fallout with their own crews. Nothing upset an officer like having to deal with fallout caused by another officer’s screw-up.
“Well?” Iver asked.
“I have to believe there is some…good…in my double.”
There was some grumbling around the table at that.
“Are you sure that isn’t some bias on your part?” Marcy asked.
“It probably is,” Husher conceded, “but I’m not saying there’s much good. Just a tiny, minuscule amount.”
Carlyle grunted. “That’s not much to go on.”
“I agree. But I think it might be enough to believe that he really cares about his son.”
“That’s a big if.”
“He’s shown compassion for his son before. When we were threatening to destroy his universe, his first concern was for his child. Even when he knew he’d be in my care, and he hated me as much as I hated him, if not more, he still wanted his child with me rather than dead.”
His words brought a prolonged silence
Husher adjusted his seat, clearing his throat. “If there’s one thing, and only one thing, we might be able to trust about him, it’s his concern for his son.” He paused to choose his next words. “So if there ever was a reason to believe he’d want to help me out, that’s it. Otherwise, I agree with you. We can’t trust him any further than a Tumbran could throw him.”
That elicited a chuckle or two around the room, probably just what was needed to break the tension.
“Very well,” Iver said. “We’ll send the cruiser Regent to scout the system and report back. If we find out the other Husher is lying to us, we return to Skisel to figure out our next move.”
“And if Regent finds that cluster of generators?”
“Then we throw everything we have at them like our lives depend on it. Because they very much do. Dismissed.”
Iver nodded at Husher as the others filed out. “The order for the Regent? I gave it ten minutes ago. She’s already underway.”
Husher smiled. “I see you’re really embracing the point of these meetings.”
“The right decision is the right decision. We can’t wait around on this. If that other you is telling the truth, we have to move fast. And if he’s full of shit, we have to move even faster.”
Husher nodded, and was already heading down to the shuttle bay when he heard a general alarm sound. By the time he was in the shuttle, the word was out.
