Accelerating Universe: The Sector Fleet Book One Page 20

  The gel walls flashed red. And stayed red.

  The officer neither noticed nor cared. I just smiled.

  More fool him to disregard the tin can.

  Forty

  Ah, Shit

  Jameson

  I woke groggy and with a tidal wave of pain threatening to sweep me away.

  “Hold on,” Medina said. “Pain meds aren’t calibrated yet.”

  “What’s happening?” I said through gritted teeth.

  “Stitched you up and you’re as good as new again.”

  “Then let me up.” I tried to rise off the bed, but there were too many wires sticking out of me.

  “Whoa there,” Nico muttered. “You’re going to undo all my hard work.”

  “I’m needed on the bridge,” I muttered.

  “I’m sure your new first officer is handling it well.”

  “Ana,” I said, feeling a rush of something consume me. It took a moment to realise it was relief. If Nico was talking about Ana, then she was all right. Still in one piece.

  “Archibald?”

  “From what I hear, a clean shot to the back of the head.” Nico stared down at me. “Rather hitman-like, don’t you think?”

  “He deserved it.” My vision swam for a few seconds, and by the time I came back to my senses, Nico was across the room, typing something into a datapad. “The rest of his men,” I said, my throat and mouth dry.

  Medina returned to my side and offered me a sip of something sugary from a paper cup.

  “Can’t tell you. Hopefully, Chan’s working on that. Ana will want her aunt back, in any case, so it’ll be a top priority for her, I should think.”

  “Comm the bridge,” I demanded.

  “No.”

  “What do you mean ‘no’?”

  “You need rest. Leave it up to your very capable crew.”

  “They need me!”

  “Not like this. Have you looked at yourself lately?”

  I scowled up at him. He smirked.

  “Relax, Jameson. God knows what you were thinking putting a pay-for-passage in charge, but you did get one thing right. Ana Kereama is a determined young lady who knows just how to get things done even when it might kill her in the process.”

  “That is not reassuring.”

  “I always thought my bedside manner was most acceptable.”

  Acc…acc…acceptable.

  “Pavo,” I said, my voice sounding weak and embarrassingly thin.

  “Yes, Captain.”

  “Status report.”

  “Belay that order, Pavo,” Nico said. “Doctor’s orders.”

  “You cannot override me,” I growled.

  “I’m your attending physician. In this, my orders outrank yours.”

  “Damn it all to hell, Nico!” I shouted. “We’re not through the worst of this yet.”

  Nico paused the finger tapping on his datapad.

  “What do you mean?” he said. “Archibald’s dead.”

  “He might be, but the rest of his men aren’t, and we don’t even know who they all are yet. Until we lock down every single one of them and get Marama Kereama back, we might not be able to fix this mess.”

  “I have no doubt that is happening as we speak.”

  “Maybe. But there’s more.”

  “More?” Nico stepped up to the side of the bed and stared down at me. “What more, John?”

  I grimaced and glanced up at the gel ceiling but said nothing. Pavo was a real concern. He was acting outside of his parameters. We’d lost control of our AI. Of the ship. If anything happened to Ana, then we could lose more than that. We could lose everything. Lose our lives even.

  I met Nico’s eyes, and he nodded his head. He understood. He’d always been a quick study.

  “You still need bed rest,” he said.

  “At least give me a datapad so I can keep tabs on system repairs on the bridge.”

  “That is not resting, Jameson, and you know it.”

  “Were you always this difficult?” I muttered.

  “Only with recalcitrant patients who lost a portion of their innards via plasma fire and had to be put back together again before they bled out.”

  “Sounds like fun,” I tried.

  “If Ana hadn’t done a field dressing on you when she did, you’d be dead.”

  “So, I owe her my life.”

  Nico snorted.

  “I should really thank her. Pavo, comm the bridge.”

  “Belay that order, Pavo. In fact,” Nico added. “Until I say otherwise, disregard any order from Captain Jameson. He’s on forced bed rest.”

  “Understood, Doctor.”

  “You’re gonna pay for that,” I groused.

  “Relax. What else could possibly go wrong? Archibald’s dead. At least for a while, his men will need to regroup and reassess. You’ve got time to let those stitches mend.”

  “If you say so.”

  I tried to cross my arms over my chest in an act of defiance but only ended up causing that tsunami of pain to crest. Nico sighed and upped my pain meds. For a while there, I just floated, drifted, possibly slept, most definitely dreamed of kissing Ana, and then woke to a ship-wide hail.

  “This is Lieutenant Commander George Maxwell. All Anderson Universal crew report to stations. Report to stations and standby.”

  I scowled at the gel ceiling where the voice had sounded out.

  “That’s strange,” Nico muttered from across the medbay. “Ana was on the bridge last I talked to her.”

  “Nico,” I muttered, trying to make sense of what was happening through a veil of pain meds. “Flush me,” I demanded, but I’m not sure the words came out in the correct order. Or even if Nico heard me speaking. It was barely a rasp.

  He crossed to a viewscreen and pressed a few buttons. Nothing happened.

  “Pavo,” he said. “What’s happening on the bridge?” he asked.

  Good question, I thought, then promptly drifted again.

  “Damn it,” I heard Nico muttering sometime later, or maybe just a second later, who could tell. “Comm Commander Kereama,” he said.

  “The commander is busy right now.”

  “Busy with what?”

  “Busy with a mutiny, Doctor.”

  “On the bridge?”

  “Yes.”

  “That can’t be right,” Nico said.

  But then I was drifting again, and I couldn’t figure out if it had all been a dream, or if there was something I was meant to be doing to make sure Ana was safe and protected.

  The commander is busy right now.

  Busy with a mutiny.

  On the bridge.

  Ah, shit.

  Forty-One

  We Had A Plan

  Ana

  The walls pulsed red. I sucked in a breath of air and said, “Pavo, comm Lieutenant Chan.”

  Lieutenant Commander Maxwell stood from the captain’s chair and spun to stare at me.

  “Lieutenant Chan is responding, Commander.”

  “Chan,” I said, looking up into the viewscreen. “I need you on the bridge, please.”

  “Yes, Commander.”

  The screen went black.

  “What are you doing?” Maxwell demanded.

  “We need security on the bridge,” I said, “We’re vulnerable here. Archibald’s men are still at large. Please move to the tactical console.” I crossed to the captain’s chair and took a seat in it. Looking up at the Lieutenant, I said, “Now, Lieutenant.”

  “Hold on just a God damn minute, Kereama.”

  “Commander Kereama,” I said. “And that’s enough.”

  “I don’t know who the hell you think you are,” Maxwell said, puffing up like a tomcat, “but you are not the most senior officer on this bridge.”

  “Lieutenant Childs,” I said, ignoring him. “Navigation status, please?”

  Childs hesitated for a good few seconds and then said, “I have control…ma’am.”

  “The Sector One Fleet in relati
on to us?” I asked.

  “They’ve made progress,” she replied, checking her screen. “They should be with us in a few more hours.”

  “Good work. Marshal, how’s that fleet-wide comms coming along?”

  “Still down, ma’am. But I’m getting close.”

  “Have Pavo assist you, please.”

  “Is that wise, ma’am?”

  “I have every faith in his abilities.” Fake it until you make it, that’s what Sam always said.

  “You’re crazy,” Maxwell said. “You’re certifiable. And I’m not taking orders from a pay-for-passage wench.”

  I arched a brow at him. “Are you declining to do your job, Lieutenant Commander?”

  “You’re way out of line, Kereama. The position of first officer has not been confirmed, and until it is, the most senior officer takes control of the bridge when the captain is indisposed. And that sure as hell will never be a pay-for-passage who got her entire squad killed back on Earth.”

  Silence reigned for all of several seconds. My little speech back when I was trying to reach Pavo had clearly made the rounds. My history was well known, then.

  I sighed.

  “You may question my past,” I said. “Although you were not there. But you have no right to question the captain, Lieutenant.”

  “The captain isn’t here,” he snapped. He stepped forward and reached down to grab my arm, intending to haul me out of the captain’s chair, no doubt.

  For a second, I was dumbfounded that Anderson Universal, who prided itself on a military-run organisational structure, could have officers that behaved so appallingly.

  And then I had him in an arm lock; his face pressed against the still pulsing red gel-coated floor.

  The door swished open, and Lieutenant Chan walked in.

  He halted when he spotted what was happening.

  “Trouble, Commander?” he asked smoothly.

  “Is there trouble, Lieutenant Commander?” I said to the man held immobile by the arm twisted at just the right angle up his back.

  Maxwell flicked his eyes up to Chan and then back to me. He was of a higher rank than the security chief, but Chan was the security chief. His word held weight in here.

  “No,” Maxwell hissed. “No trouble. Ma’am.”

  I let him go and stepped back out of reach. Chan watched Maxwell rise carefully. He didn’t rest a hand on his weapon, but I had no doubt he could reach it if need be.

  Maxwell rubbed at his shoulder and arm.

  “Do you need the medbay?” I asked.

  “No.”

  “No, ma’am,” Chan snapped.

  “No, ma’am,” Maxwell offered, a clip to his tone letting me know I’d made an enemy.

  I wanted to sigh. But sighing indicated emotion. And officers in charge needed to remain above the displays of unchecked emotion.

  “To your station then, Maxwell,” I said.

  He strode stiffly across the bridge to the tactical console. I needed to convince him I was meant to be here. I might find it difficult to think it was permanent, but until Jameson released me, I’d do my job. Do what he asked of me. He was my captain.

  And that really, really sucked balls.

  I looked at the gel floor and watched as it lightened to green again. No red.

  Then I lifted my head and looked at Chan.

  “Mercs secured?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Anything on the rest of Archibald’s men?” I pressed.

  “We’re searching deck by deck, but it’ll take time. Pavo still can’t locate your aunt.”

  “I am scanning all the time,” Pavo offered. “But no blank spots have appeared, and Marama Kereama’s biosignature is still missing.”

  “What do we know, then?” I asked the flight deck.

  No one said anything.

  “Come on,” I said. “You’re all Anderson Universal crew. Is there anything in the lease about this?”

  “If you’d trained with us,” Maxwell said steadily,” you’d know we only received cursory instruction on the lease parameters to ensure we worked within them.”

  I ignored the poorly disguised dig at my command.

  “The lease is void,” I said. “But Archibald’s men won’t know or agree with that. So how would they behave now thinking the lease was still active?”

  “The second in command will take charge,” Chan said reluctantly. Possibly not wanting to draw attention to ranking right then. “And should Archibald have left instructions in case anything happened to him, they’d carry them out.”

  “He won’t have thought anything could happen to him,” I said.

  Chan nodded his head. “Then, in that case, they’d carry out their original orders.”

  I looked at Maxwell. “Which would have been what exactly?”

  He glared at me for a moment and then let out a short breath of air and said, “Take control of the ship via Pavo.”

  “Something I think we can all agree on that should not happen,” I said.

  “No,” Chan offered, while Marshal, Childs and Baxter nodded their heads.

  Maxwell just stared at me.

  “I need you,” I said directly to him. “The ship needs you. Ten thousand souls in this sector fleet alone and another ten thousand in the Sector One Fleet need you, Lieutenant Commander. You’re the tactical officer on duty right now. We let them get Pavo; they get the ship. We let them get the ship…”

  “And they won’t wait for the Sector One Fleet,” he finished for me.

  “Exactly,” I said. “The Captain does not want that to happen. Neither do I. So, we work this problem out, and we find a solution. Agreed.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Maxwell said.

  “Chan, please work with the Lieutenant Commander on a search grid, incorporating whatever Pavo can supply regarding their masking abilities. They’re still on board this ship. No one has slipped out of an airlock. They’re here. They’ll be after Pavo. But not if we find them first. Identify and decrypt that masking frequency and we’ll have them.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” they both said.

  “Baxter,” I said. “Until comms is up, we’ll use our position as a signal to the rest of the Sector Two Fleet. If any vessel moves, move to block them.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “We’ll corral them like sheep if we have to. No one is leaving Sector One behind.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Marshal, you know what to do. Fix that fleet-wide comm. Use whoever and whatever you need to do it. And don’t overlook Pavo’s abilities to help. He might be a bit…glitchy. But he’s still the smartest and fastest brain on this ship. And he’s still ours. Use him."

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Childs,” I said.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I know you located where Pavo was damaged.”

  “He’s not there now, Commander.”

  I nodded and wondered about the wisdom of what I was about to suggest.

  “Can you…copy the damage? Mimic it elsewhere?”

  She frowned at me. “Mimic it, ma’am?”

  “If you found out where he was damaged, then Archibald’s men will find it if they haven’t already. I don’t believe Pavo can be rebooted successfully, nor do I think it’s in our best interests…”

  “But the captain…”

  “The captain can correct me when he returns. For now, we work on the assumption that messing with Pavo will mess it up for us all. What we need, though, is to keep him protected from Archibald’s men.”

  “I am quite safe, Ana,” Pavo said, proving every conversation we had was being monitored by the AI. “I am mobile within the ship’s systems.”

  “I know, Pavo. But Archibald’s team may not know this. And we need to find them. If we could lure them out…”

  “It might be enough to pinpoint their masking frequencies,” Marshal said enthusiastically. “If we’re scanning when they’re on the move, or when they have to leave a masked ro
om, it could display as a spike in the systems.”

  I smiled. “Yes, but they’ll only do that if they have an incentive…”

  “Such as a newly identified solar flare damaged conduit,” Childs added, “that may or may not lead them to how Pavo was altered.”

  Exactly. My smile broadened.

  We had a plan. Everyone was grinning and getting on with it. I felt my equilibrium right itself and allowed a small exhalation of relief. I may not have been an Anderson Universal recruit back on Earth, but I had been a damn fine soldier. Mistakes aside, I’d understood the command structure. I’d understood how the military worked. Jameson could have this job when he was back up and running; I’d gladly step aside. But until he was here, sitting in this command chair, I would do what was required.

  What I had been charged with.

  I was a grunt and always would be. But I was a grunt who knew how to be inspired. I just had to flip that around and inspire those on the bridge with me.

  And then the comm pinged with a text message from the mayor.

  I stared at it, horrified. The mayor did not feature in my new military-world order. But I sure as hell featured in his.

  Mayor Cecil demands the commanding officer’s attendance at 17:00 hours.

  Forty-Two

  And Then It Hit Me

  Jameson

  I woke to the sound of low voices arguing. The pain meds were still in my system it seemed because I could have sworn one of those voices belonged to Ana. I blinked away sleep and registered the various aches and grumbles in my body, but my vision cleared swiftly, and the sense that I was compromised by drugs didn’t eventuate.

  I turned my head and noted Lieutenant Taylor’s still form on a nearby bed, various tubes and things sticking out of him. It was with relief that I could see his chest rising and falling rhythmically. The heart rate squiggle that appeared on the viewscreen hanging above his head seemed regular. Not that I was an expert at reading such things.

  I glanced around the medbay until I could locate the voices. They were definitely arguing. The type of whisper-arguing people do around the sick and dying. I almost snorted, but stopped myself in time; I still had vivid memories of the tidal wave of agony from earlier.