Leviathan: Book 8 of the Legacy Fleet Series Page 5

  NO, SHELBY, IT WILL NOT.

  But how do you atone for genocide? She asked her companion.

  ATONE? YOU DON’T. BUT MOVING ON AND DOING GOOD? THAT’S YOUR ONLY CHOICE.

  “Admiral?”

  “You failed, but you picked yourself up and tried again. You didn’t give up. When everyone else would have given up, you didn’t. You started over. The truly great make a habit of starting over when life goes tits up. I need that, Ensign. In the days and weeks and months ahead, we’re going to come up against some difficult times. Some awful shit. And I need a crew that’s not going to give up when the fight gets hot. That’s you.”

  “Thank you, Admiral.”

  They’d arrived at sickbay, but Proctor stopped just short of the door and turned to the young woman. “You chose communications as your IDF career track. Why?”

  The question seemed to set the ensign more at ease, being a more traditional getting-to-know-you topic. “Well growing up in the streets of Bali Colony you learn some things. How to speak a dozen languages and endless mishmashes of those and all their dialects. Was kind of a natural at it, I guess. It’s why I was such a damn good drug runner—I could talk to anyone, and therefore sell to anyone.”

  “I have a problem. We have two new alien races that have come out of the woodwork in recent weeks. And one of them I can’t so much as say hello to. With Commander Qwerty here we were making progress, but he’s currently tackling a slightly more pressing project, yet this is nearly as urgent. Can you help with that?”

  Sampono shrugged. “I’m pretty good with human languages ma’am. But Dolmasi? Skiohra? Never learned a word of either one. Not sure how I can help, but I’ll try.” She paused to think. “But what about the Valarisi? Aren’t they naturals at language? Couldn’t we get their help?”

  Proctor nodded. “A great idea. Ensign, what I’m about to tell you is classified. Understood? Not officially classified, as not even the top brass knows this. It’s Proctor classified. Got it?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I still have my Valarisi companion.”

  “But— I thought fleet command ordered that all personnel be separated from their companions?”

  “They did.”

  Sampono leaned back in her chair as if finally at ease, and Proctor could see the realization spread over her face. “You disobeyed the order.”

  “Being the former fleet admiral of IDF and a curmudgeonly old retiree come with certain side benefits. What are they going to do, fire me? Especially now, given that Oppenheimer sided with the enemy? Good luck to them.”

  “I guess freedom is running out of fucks to give, Admiral.”

  Proctor laughed out loud. “I couldn’t have said it better myself. When the order went out that we were to be separated from our companions, I was considering just disobeying, easy peasy, but then my companion fell silent for a long time. I thought it left on its own. Apparently our behavior toward them has contributed to some trust issues. Seems humans aren’t entirely trustworthy.”

  “Who’da thought, ma’am?”

  She liked this Ensign.

  “But it is back, and I think they’ll be critical to our success in the days ahead.”

  Sampono eyed her. “You trust them?”

  Proctor blinked. “Trust?”

  “You said they stopped trusting us after Oppenheimer ordered their removal. Are you sure we can trust them?”

  Proctor nodded confidently. “Absolutely. You’d understand if you’d been united with one. There is nothing to hide. Both my companion and I are utterly open to each other.”

  “Not sure I’d like that, ma’am. Spent too long looking over my shoulder on Bali Prime. But to each her own.”

  Proctor smiled and took a step toward the doors to sickbay, which opened at her approach. “Dismissed, Ensign. You have your assignment.”

  She strode into sickbay and approached the nurse attending the clearly wounded man laying on a bed. “How is he?”

  Before the nurse could reply, the man gasped. “Are you . . . ?”

  “Admiral Proctor,” she finished for him.

  “The Proctor?”

  The Proctor. She almost cringed. “There’s a Karen Proctor down in accounting, but I assume you mean me, yes.”

  “The Companion to the Hero?”

  She rubbed the bridge of her nose. Oh god, not a Grangerite. She allowed a brief moment to pass in silence, to hint at her disapproval.

  “I’ve been called that. By friend and fanatic alike.”

  “My apologies, Admiral,” he sounded embarrassed, and coughed. “It’s what I was taught in school. It’s just your nickname around these parts.”

  “I’m aware,” she said drily. “Commander? What the hell happened here? And, more urgently, are we still in imminent danger?”

  “Yes. Yes, Admiral. They could come back at any time.”

  “They? Do you mean the Swarm?”

  “The separatist bastards. Call themselves Sons of the Motherland. In the chaos surrounding the fall of Earth, they decided now was the time strike our cities and force the RC off Bellarus. We fought them to a standstill, facing mutinous ships among our own fleet too. It was a mess. A horrific mess. Lots of bodies floating around up here, and I assume tens of thousands dead down there.”

  “But they fled?”

  “Yes ma’am, they did. A few hours ago. I presume they have some hidden base on the far side of one of the moons.”

  She raised her voice to the ceiling. “Bridge, this is Proctor. Anything yet on the comms channels from whoever did this?”

  Commander Urda’s voice came from a speaker in the wall. “No, ma’am. Nothing on any channel.”

  “Meta-space?”

  “Nothing, ma’am.”

  “Thank you. Keep me informed, Proctor out.” She turned back to the nurse. “Is he going to make it?”

  Nurse Suzuki nodded. “He’s fine. Lung was pierced and there’s some tissue damage from smoke inhalation. But he’ll patch right up. Should be out of here tomorrow. But I’d like him to get some rest right now, if you don’t mind, ma’am.” Suzuki turned to her. A woman of fifty, perhaps, with a deeply lined face, with a look that said, I know what I’m talking about so respectfully get the hell out, Admiral.

  She decided it wasn’t a good time to clash with the woman. “Good. Keep me updated on his progress. I want to speak to him later and get to the bottom of all this.” She nodded at Suzuki, and then at Petrovich. “If you’ll both excuse me.”

  Petrovich grabbed her sleeve as she turned. “Admiral. It’s . . . I’m sorry, I must not be making sense. But it’s the honor of a lifetime to finally meet you.” The look in his eye was—not crazed, but almost worshipful. Or maybe that was the effect of whatever drug Suzuki had him on.

  Proctor removed his hand from her sleeve with her other hand and set it back on his chest. “Get some rest.” He tried to reach up and grab her again, but she pulled away. “Rest,” she said again. “I’ll be back and we can talk more in depth later.”

  When she left sickbay, she almost bumped into Ensign Sampono, who’d been standing near the door, looking into sickbay through the window. “Ensign? Still here?”

  She looked slightly embarrassed, and chuckled nervously. “Old habits die hard, ma’am. I was just trying to get a better look at our new passenger.”

  “Why?”

  “When you’ve been on the street as long as I have, you develop . . . trust issues. Just wanted to see with my own eyes the newbie. Make sure he didn’t set off my danger sense. You know.”

  Interesting. “And?”

  She shrugged. “Nothing that I can see.”

  “Good.” She paced a few steps before continuing. “Ensign, you’re going to learn in IDF that trust is a good thing. Trust in your fellow officers to do their job and keep you alive.”

  “Where I come from ma’am, those to whom trust comes easy usually end up in a ditch.”

  “Blind trust? No. But we can’t do
this alone, Sapphira. Just a thought. As you were.”

  She turned back down the hall, the ensign’s “yes, ma’am” following her.

  The walk to the deck immediately below sickbay was short, not enough time to think through any next steps. But the man’s words echoed in her ears. Honor of a lifetime. My god. She hated the hero worship. Hated it. People did it to Tim all the time, and she finally understood how it got under his skin.

  She saluted to the two marines stationed at the entrance to deck sixteen at the bottom of the stairwell. “Anyone been this way since we talked?”

  “Just a few passersby trying to shortcut to the galley, ma’am. We sent them on their way.”

  “No one’s been in or out?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “Good. As you were.” She saluted again, and they mirrored her.

  One of the marines entered a security code into the panel, and the doors opened to reveal a completely empty deck sixteen. She made her way down the long hallway to one of the crew quarters about halfway down.

  Before she could enter, the door opened to reveal a very disheveled President Sepulveda. Former President Sepulveda. “If I don’t get the hell off this ship, I swear I’ll either blow my brains out or steal a shuttle and make a dead-run at a Findiri ship and take my chances.”

  “Calm down,” she said, waving him off. She knew it would aggravate him—no one, ever, in the history of humanity, had ever calmed down when told to calm down—but she didn’t care. “We need to talk.”

  “Fine. Talk. Right here. I’m not going back in there. It’s ten square meters of hell, and I’d rather—”

  “Yeah, yeah, dead-run at a Findiri ship. Might save us a lot of hassle. Listen,” she said, folding her arms and acquiescing to his wish to converse right there in the hallway. “I’m just one woman, on one ship, and, frankly, I’m not getting nearly enough done that needs doing.”

  He smiled triumphantly. “So you came for my help.” He waved a hand, expectantly. “Okay, go on. What’s the grand task for the former president of United Earth? Secret mission into Director Talus’s inner sanctum? Or work my diplomatic magic to get Granger aboard a Skiohra ship so he can translate that little—”

  “I want you off the ship. You’re a distraction. Like an anchor, weighing me down. I’ve got enough of a target on my back without worrying about you being discovered here.”

  His mouth was halfway open.

  “Don’t worry, I’m not throwing you to the wolves. You’ll fly around in a top-of-the-line ship.”

  His eyes darted back and forth, trying to decipher the puzzle. “You’re . . . giving me the Defiance?”

  “Good job. Yes. And I’m killing two birds with one stone. Commander Zivic is basically a wreck since Paradiso. Crisis of confidence, or some bullshit. He needs a little mission where he can flex his muscles again and get his confidence back. And you need to be gone.”

  Sepulveda brought his hand to his brow and shook his head, as if in disbelief he was being treated this way. “Great. Babysitting, when the fate of humanity is at stake.”

  “Not sure who’s babysitting whom, but okay,” she said.

  “And what, pray tell, will I be doing aboard the Defiance?”

  “You’ll be avoiding detection, given that the Defiance is one of only two or three stealth starships in existence. That’s your first job, until Cooper can finish hers. Second, we’ve got a mystery here at Bellarus that needs solving, and I simply don’t have the time. I’ve got more pressing issues to address.” She looked him up and down, seeing his disheveled clothes, wondering if he’d even showered that day. “Well, time’s a wasting. An escort will be by within the hour to get you aboard the Defiance. Commander Zivic will brief you once you’re there.”

  She turned to leave. Five minutes talking to a politician was six minutes too many.

  “Wait! And just what the hell will you be doing?”

  “Me?” The doors at the end of the hallway opened for her as she approached, and the marines saluted again. “I’ll be hunting Swarm.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Kiev Sector

  Bellarus, high orbit

  ISS Defiance

  Bridge

  “So, you just got put in command of one of the most advanced starships in existence, given basically free reign over it and your mission, and you’re . . . complaining?”

  When she put it that way, it made him sound ridiculous. The computer-generated image of Jerusha Whitehorse was smirking at him, even though Commander Ethan Zivic was pretty sure the computer couldn’t translate a facial expression as complicated as a smirk.

  “Jeru, you don’t understand. I was useless back there. Proctor brought me onboard the Independence for my gee-whiz out-of-the-box tactical brain, and what did I come up with? Nada. Zilch. Hell, Shin-Wentworth’s contribution was bigger than mine. All I accomplished was getting in the way on the bridge.”

  “Ethan—”

  “Jeru, my place is in a cockpit. That’s what I know. It’s what I’m good at. Give me something to shoot, and I shine. Give me a starship with people to get underfoot and ensigns with delicate feelings and . . . paperwork,” he made a face, “that’s when I turn into an aimless, passionless, indecisive automaton that dreams of flying again while he’s signing requisition papers.”

  Whitehorse’s brow bunched up. “There’s paper on the Independence?”

  “Figure of speech, Jeru.”

  “Look, honey, it’ll be good for you. And Proctor needs someone she can trust in command of the Defiance. You heard Director Talus yourself—there’s a price on our heads, and all we’ve got right now are the Independence, the Ballsy, the Defiance, and half a dozen other ships with captains we can rely on to not sell us out to the Findiri.”

  “Fine, right, I get it.” He grabbed his coffee mug and tipped it back, only to remember he’d finished it half an hour ago and this was the third time he’d sipped an empty cup. “Goddammit,” he muttered. “I don’t even have a little ensign I can order around to get me coffee. Just Lieutenant Commander Rice, and he’s royally pissed that I took his job.”

  “Look. Babe. Things will be fine. And hey, remember your promise?”

  He slowly nodded. “Yeah.”

  “Don’t look so glum about it! Jeez. I’d hope getting married to the love of your life would spark a better reaction than,” she dropped her voice to something glum, “yeah.”

  “I’d just prefer to marry you in person, that’s all. Yeah, yeah, I know I promised you that if I didn’t return to the Ballsy within the week that we’d just do it virtually, but that’s not the most romantic thing in the world, yeah?”

  “Are you kidding? It’s the most romantic thing I could dream of. Earth conquered, human civilization hanging by a thread, and yet in spite of the odds two lovers tie the knot with lightyears between them.” She smiled lopsidedly, “sounds like a great romance novel.”

  He smiled back at her, hoping the computer would simulate the sincerity he was trying to put into it. “Yeah. Okay, you’re right, as usual. How’re things?”

  She shrugged. “Oh, you know, just trying to maintain two of our most important alien friendships while balancing the mental stability of half my crew, including my XO.”

  “Shin-Wentworth? That bad?”

  “Well he did just lose his wife and kids on Paradiso underneath that Findiri momentum transfer shield, not to mention his brother getting a hole blown through his head by a floating robot while he was with Granger.”

  He played with his empty mug, tipping it back and forth so the last drop of coffee coated the entire bottom. “Are you sure it’s a good idea to keep him as XO? I mean, for now?”

  “Honestly? I’d rather he take a good six-month-long break. But given that he’s all I got at the moment, and I can’t exactly go ask Admiral Traitor Oppenheimer for a replacement, I’m stuck with him. But he swears he’s okay. I don’t know. We’ll see.”

  “Right. Well my passenger is about to arri
ve. Talk later?”

  She smiled one last time. “Yeah. Love you.”

  “Love you too,” he said, and switched off the meta-space transmission. Her 3D computer-generated image disappeared, and he turned to Lieutenant Commander Rice, who was half frowning, half smirking at him.

  “You know, they do have that privacy blur these days. You can use that so we can’t hear what you’re saying.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  Did he care what Rice thought about him? Nope.

  “Okay. Good to know.” Rice returned his attention to his station monitor. “The shuttle with our passenger has landed in the bay, sir.”

  “Good. Tell him to get his ass up to the bridge asap.”

  Rice made a show of typing a message. “. . . ass . . . up . . . to . . . bridge, got it.”

  Zivic chuckled. Maybe Rice wasn’t so bad after all. “Any word yet from whatever government is left on the surface?”

  Rice nodded. “I got in touch with a few minor cabinet officials from the Bellarus Presidential offices who were vacationing outside the city at the time of the attack. They’re pretty busy, seeing how they’re trying to decide which of them gets to be president now that the entire line of succession is probably wiped out.”

  “Try to get me a few minutes with whichever one seems like is going to end up on top. Proctor wanted us to sort this out, and I bet this system will be crawling with both RC and UE ships soon—best we get our business done and get out of here.”

  A few minutes later, the passenger arrived on the bridge, escorted by two heavily armed marines.

  Zivic stood up. “President Sepulveda, welcome to the Defiance.” He extended a hand. “The ship is at your service, sir. Admiral Proctor said you’ve got a mission of the utmost importance.”

  Sepulveda rolled his eyes. “Did she now? How very gracious of her. Truth be told, as much as I hate to say it, I’m here to stay out of the way. It’s critical that no one, especially the Findiri, know that I am alive. That would put President Cooper in grave danger—more than she’s currently in.”