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  “All the civilian ships survived the jump?” That was Graves’ biggest concern. Not all QE drives were created equally. Even the most advanced models, like those the fleet and finest cruise ships relied upon had been known to malfunction from time to time. He knew all the ships had jumped away, but had they all made it?

  A frown marred Cassier’s face. “That can’t be right,” he whispered as he furiously tapped a screen. “The ships in the civilian fleet all arrived safely but Kestrel is nowhere to be seen.”

  “Confirm it right now,” Graves barked. Kestrel had taken a great deal of damage while guarding the civilian fleet. Had something happened to her during the jump?

  Cassier got on the horn and tried to hail Kestrel, but to no avail. The warship was missing.

  “She made the jump. We saw her vanish from RADS,” Graves said.

  “Absolutely she did,” Cassier said. “And they were given the proper coordinates, which they confirmed. They must have suffered a malfunction.”

  “What do we do?” Meena Patel, his newly-appointed XO, asked. “Is there any way they can get a signal to us, or we to them?”

  “Not unless they jumped to a spot very close by,” Cassier said. “And I don’t see any distress signal from them, nor any other communication. It’s safe to say they’re a long way away from where they intended to be.”

  Graves pressed his fingers to his temples and tried to rub away the beginnings of a headache. They had survived against insurmountable odds, made their escape, and now they were one ship short. An important ship at that.

  “If they have gone off course, I’m sure they’re working on correcting their error. The only thing we can do is wait here until they arrive. Keep up patrols, set the fleet to condition orange.” He took a deep breath. Fatigue was creeping up on him, but there was too much to do. Besides, none of his crew had taken a rest since the battle was joined. He was not about to complain.

  “I’ll send out the order.” Cassier paused. “Should we be addressing you as Admiral, Sir?”

  “Not anytime soon. Certainly not after the clusterfuck of the last appointment.”

  Prior to the Memnon attack, Graves had been tabbed for the position of admiral after the death of their previous leader during the early stages of the uprising. But machinations by Simon Vatcher, commander of Osprey, and Valeria Navarre, younger sister of her Imperial Majesty Catalina, had interfered. In the end, although Graves should have been appointed by right of seniority, they settled for another experienced leader, one upon whom all the commanders could agree. That commander, Xenia Laws, had been killed in battle. She and her crew had made the ultimate sacrifice so that the fleet could escape from the Memnon attack. Graves was now issuing commands as if he were in charge, but he had not yet been appointed to the admiralty.

  “XO, I want you to begin scheduling rack time for the bridge crew. Tell Hunter to do the same for the pilots, and the chief for his deck crew. The marines, as well. Obviously, if the Memnons show up, it’s all hands on deck.”

  Patel cleared her throat, hesitated. “Commander, I’m afraid Hunter didn’t make it back.”

  Graves’ heart lurched. Hunter was dragonfly’s CAG, Commander of the Air Guard. He and a fledgling pilot named Vera Bates had undertaken a risky mission to secure the safety of the fleet. The pair had completed their mission successfully and Graves had presumed they had returned safely.

  “He and Vera made it back from Hyperion, yes. But they didn’t return to Dragonfly. They were on board Kestrel when she jumped.”

  “Oh, gods,” Graves groaned. “At least they’re alive. We just need to figure out where they are.” He looked from his communications officer to his XO. “Anything else I ought to know?”

  “I don’t know if it is significant,” Patel said. “But Hunter had a pair of civilians with him when he returned. It was Commander Vatcher’s parents.”

  Graves was not quite sure what to make of that information. Simon Vatcher had already given him sufficient cause for suspicion. His mother, Magda, was the daughter of a powerful man who was widely believed to be elbows deep in organized crime. His father, Jude, was a brilliant scientist, successful businessman, avid social climber, and a man of questionable loyalties. Graves could not see how adding those two to the mix could be, in any way, a good thing. At least he didn’t have to worry about that right now.

  “Very well. That’s probably something Her Majesty should hear about. I’m going to work in my quarters for a while. Notify me of anything at all you think might require my attention. No matter how small or insignificant it might seem.”

  He had made it halfway to his quarters when Catalina Navarre intercepted him.

  “Commander, I need to speak with you right away.”

  Graves resisted the urge to let out a sigh. Although many dismissed Lina Navarre due to her youth and beauty, as well as her twin sister’s renowned antics, she had already proved herself to be intelligent, insightful, and courageous. She had potential, and her presence was important to the stability of the fleet.

  “Of course. Walk with me, Majesty.”

  Lina fell into step beside him. “I suppose the first order of business is the status of my position. You and I have not had time to talk about it, but I learned that my swearing-in did not follow the letter of the law. At least one member of the senate should have been present.”

  “Everyone in the Senate is dead,” Graves said.

  “Exactly. And my sister hinted that she plans to make an issue of it, which means that Commander Vatcher is likely to do the same.” Simon Vatcher and Valeria Navarre were lovers.

  This was another headache Graves did not need. “What do you propose we do? Elect a new Senate?”

  Lina nodded. “That’s exactly what we need to do.”

  Graves stopped short. “What in the hells are you talking about?” He knew he probably shouldn’t speak to the Empress that way, but right now he couldn’t give a damn about protocol. “We do not have a home. We are effectively lost in space.”

  “But we do have a population that requires governing. They’re in shock right now, happy to be alive, but that won’t last long. We’re already getting complaints. Hyperians don’t want to be stuck with Thetans on the same ship. Vatomians fighting with New Sorians. And there’s one man who insists he be given a place on the luxury cruiser because he is distantly related to my family.”

  “Bastards, all of them. Whoever says war unites a population has read too many children’s stories.” He considered for a moment. “I could declare martial law. It makes sense in a time of war.”

  “I think that’s a bad idea. It could cause a panic that might lead to violence.”

  “I’m sure you do, but with respect, it’s a military decision.”

  Lina folded her arms. “If you impose martial law, you had better have a plan to go along with it. Do you have a plan? What’s our next move?”

  “I’m still working on it.” The truth was, Graves had no plan. He had had time to focus on nothing beyond the survival of the fleet.

  “There are many things that need to be seen to. Allocation of resources, making sure everyone has a suitable living space, putting the right people together so they don’t kill each other. If you declare martial law, all of that falls upon you. Wouldn’t you rather have someone you trust seeing to those sorts of details? In dialogue with you, of course. And this way, we calm the populace by at least giving them the illusion of autonomy. What do you say?” They stared at one another in silence for the span of two heartbeats. “Commander, I have no interest in measuring dicks with you right now. Of course I can’t stop you from declaring martial law, but both our jobs will be much easier, and the fleet safer, if we can find a way to work together. Because if we don’t, I promise you my sister will find a way to take advantage. Think about it. Do you really want Simon Vatcher running the fleet and his lover heading the government?”

  She had a point. “Fair enough. And on that note, I just learned that Jude and
Magda Vatcher escaped with the fleet. They were taken on board the Kestrel.”

  Concern marred Lina’s face. “That’s not good news. My grandfather never trusted them. He called them master manipulators.” Unshed tears glistened at the corners of her eyes.

  “We don’t have to deal with them just yet. The ship that picked them up, Kestrel, is missing. We assume it’s an issue with their QE drive and they will be joining us shortly.”

  Lina nodded. “Which means we have until then to firm up our positions.”

  “Do you have a plan?” Graves asked

  Lina smiled, reached up, and patted him on the cheek. “Of course I do.”

  Chapter 4

  Battlecruiser Kestrel

  Commander Ed Begay stood on the bridge of Kestrel and tried to remember every single curse in his native tongue that his grandfather had ever hurled at him. He had exhausted his supply of Aquarian swear words and needed some new material.

  “Eechaa itsayi keya sizini!” he shouted.

  “What was that, Sir?” Victoria Nez, his XO, asked.

  “I was trying to say ‘son of a whore,’ but my Dinajo is rusty.”

  “It must be, because that’s definitely not what you said.” Like Begay, Nez was of the Dinajo, the original settlers of Echota.

  “What did I actually say?”

  “No idea. It was gibberish.”

  Begay let out a long, slow breath. “Are we any closer to determining what went wrong with the jump?”

  “Not so far, sir,” helmsman Martin Chee said. “The jump coordinates went through the standard confirmation protocol.”

  “Jump calculations were and have been checked and rechecked line by line. Everything was entered correctly. It should have been a perfect jump,” added science officer Drazen Modric.

  Begay resisted the urge to remind him that obviously it hadn’t been perfect. That sort of snide comment never made things better. “And yet, there’s no fleet out there and that is definitely not the Scarn Nebula.” Chee pointed at the vidscreen which displayed a heavy asteroid belt.

  Nez nodded. “Somehow, we’ve ended up in the wrong place. And before you ask, no, we don’t know what this place is. At least, not yet. But we’re working on it.”

  “What’s the holdup?”

  “Chee doesn’t know where the hells we are. That’s the holdup,” said petty officer Inola Bonebrake. The young woman had promise, but she was an unrepentant smartass.

  “Bonebrake,” Begay warned.

  “Sorry, commander.” She tugged nervously at her single braid. She wore her glossy black hair a bit longer than regulations stipulated, but Begay hadn’t made an issue of it. Eastern Echotans had funny beliefs about their hair. As long as she did her job well and didn’t try to push the boundaries too far, he would let her slide.

  “There’s not much to navigate by,” Chee said, shooting an angry glare at Bonebrake. “We need something identifiable, something we can locate in the database and plot on a map. A way to get our bearings.”

  “And it’s a big universe.” Begay let out a sigh. “We’ll figure something out. What about the ships that came in at the last second?”

  “One was a Mongoose piloted by Captain Nathaniel Hunt of Dragonfly.”

  Begay nodded. “He’s a good man, completed a critical mission for us. And the other ship?”

  “It crashed. Lots of people in sick bay. We’re still in the process of vetting those who are well enough to talk. We’ve got some marines fresh out of Camp Maddux, too. No red flags on them so far.”

  “There was also nothing wrong with our jump calculations, yet here we are. Keep them sequestered for the time being.”

  “Understood.”

  “What about the rest of the passengers?”

  Nez checked her notes. “A bunch of people who claim to have been freed by the marines from a secret Memnon laboratory where they were forced to be test subjects in some weird experiment. Our docs have examined them and they say their bodies show all the signs.”

  Begay frowned. Something about this did not sit well with him.

  “You just tugged your earlobe,” Nez said. “You only do that when you believe I haven’t thought something all the way through.”

  Begay lowered his hand. He hadn’t realized what he was doing. “I’m just wondering, how did some raw eggs out of Camp Maddux end up infiltrating a secret Memnon base on Soria?”

  Nez raised her eyebrows. “I’ll have the marines keep an eye on them.”

  “That’s good. Keep them sequestered until we can take a closer look at each of them.”

  Nez nodded, lowered her voice. “There was one more person on the ship. Someone I think you should speak to. Privately.”

  That was odd, but he and Nez had served together for years and he trusted her instincts. She led him from the bridge to a nearby room—an empty storage locker. A marine stood guard outside the door. She snapped to attention and saluted, then stepped aside to allow the officers to enter.

  Inside, another marine stood guard over a brown-skinned, dark haired woman of about fifty years. Begay did not need the scrubs and lab coat to recognize her as a scientist. They all had that way of looking at a person as if they were slicing them down to their smallest molecules just to make sure they were put together the same way as everyone else.

  “This is Rebecca Link,” Nez said. “She is one of the Memnon scientists who has been conducting experiments on Aquarians.”

  Begay’s heart lurched. Instinctively, his hand flinched toward his side arm. He calmed himself in an instant.

  “A Memnon?” he asked.

  “Absolutely not,” the woman said forcefully. “I was as much a captive as any of the patients at the facility, and I did my best for them. Ask any of them.”

  “We will,” Begay said dryly. “Now, Ms. Link, why did you want to see me?”

  “You may address me as Doctor Link, Commander. At the Stone Mountain base, we were in the process of developing a therapy that would give humans a massive increase in radiation resistance. More than enough to survive in a post-nuclear war world.”

  “So, that’s why the Memnons weren’t concerned about nuking the planet. They can give all their…people… this therapy. That’s how they’ll be able to survive.”

  “And if you’re trying to calm the populace and bring them over to your side, it makes for an enticing carrot,” the woman said.

  “Why are you telling me this?” Begay asked.

  “I managed to download a great deal of my research before we escaped as well as a sample of the therapy. We made tremendous progress. A single dose is good for a year or more, depending on the subject.” She reached into the pocket of her lab coat and withdrew a vial filled with thick, amber-colored liquid.

  “Why give it to me?” Begay asked, turning it over in his hands.

  “Because I hope by doing so, I can gain a measure of your trust. I’m a physician and you have a lot of injured people in sick bay. I know docs are always in short supply.”

  Begay nodded. “Once you’ve been vetted, if my XO is satisfied, we’ll be happy to use you in sick bay. But you’ll be watched closely.”

  “Fair enough.” She cleared her throat. “As unsavory as it is, if we harbor any hope of returning home, continuing the development of this therapy is essential. I’m sure that between all the surviving ships in the fleet I can get what I need.”

  Begay winced and Nez looked away.

  Becca frowned. “What is it?”

  Begay shook his head. “Nothing. Provide your details to Colonel Nez and she’ll either clear you to work in sick bay or send you to the brig.”

  The woman actually smiled. “You’re a plain-spoken man. I appreciate that. I look forward to working with you.”

  Begay gave a curt nod. He almost smiled as he turned away.

  Chapter 5

  Soria, Hyperion

  Everything was moist. Cassidy Vaz had always hated that word and nothing about this tropical hellscape had c
hanged her mind. Her socks were soggy, her dry rations were making the slow journey from solid to mush. And to make matters worse, her black hair, shaved on the first day of training, had now grown out enough to be a sticky annoyance.

  A fat mosquito landed on her arm and she crushed it with an emphatic slap. So far, insects were the only things she and Sergeant Trent had managed to kill since the transport had returned to the fleet without them.

  “So sick of these damn things,” she muttered.

  “Like I told you before, you didn’t have to stay.” The big, blonde sergeant glared down at her. Red blotches marred her lightly tanned skin.

  “You’re right,” Cass said. “You have told me that before.”

  “Gods, you’re annoying, Vaz. Are you sure you’re not a Memnon?”

  Cassidy shook her head.

  Staff Sergeant Julia Trent had been one of her instructors during her Imperial Marine Corps basic training and had rescued the surviving recruits after the Memnon uprising began. Their craft had been shot down over the island of Soria, the site of a nuclear holocaust during the first Memnon War. With most of their number injured to some degree, Trent had sent Rory Waring and Tom Marson to a nearby secret base to seek help. The base had proved to have been under Memnon control for many years. The fact that Trent was not only aware of the base, but claimed to have served there, had aroused suspicion. Consequently, Trent had chosen to remain behind and, in her words, “kill Memnons.” Cassidy had joined her for reasons of her own.

  “Do you think I’m one of them?” Trent asked.

  “The way I see it, if you were a Memnon you’d have already killed me.”

  Trent grinned. “Unless I believe you’re a Memnon, too.”

  Cassidy rolled her eyes. “Screw you, Sergeant.”

  “Nah, I prefer men.”

  Cassidy could not help but smile. She wondered if Trent, who towered over most men, had a difficult time finding suitable partners.