Edge of Redemption (A Star Too Far Book 3) (15 page)

He let out a breath and exhaled deeply. His eyes drifted to the displays and began to prioritize. He keyed up the personnel screen and saw nothing but errors. Time to do it the old fashioned way. “Crew, sound off.”

“Shay.”

“Huron.”

“Bryce.”

William listened as the names drifted in a slow rhythm, checking them off one by one. He dreaded the moment when it would stop. The words hung in the silence and he nodded slowly. Three gone. Bryce’s shift. They’d have been sealing breaches, he thought, keeping us alive. “Huron, can you get to a console?”

“Already there, Captain.”

“How long ‘til we can get sealed up?”

“It’s going to be a bit,” Huron said. “We’re holed in the center section. I need to find a patch big enough to seal it.”

“How big?” William asked as he pictured a mass driver slug sized hole.

“Hmm, a few meters should do it.”

“Shay, run a passive, find me some rocks,” William said. He looked to the wall next to him and patted it with his augmetic hand. They suffered a wound a few meters wide but the ship held together.

Bits of the coating dropped away, showing the rocky core underneath. Already a thin layer of nanites propagated and grew a thin sheen. The tiny machines were eating, crunching, sealing, and expanding.

“I’ve got a debris field, third order reflectance about a hundred thousand kilos out,” Shay said.

“Set it in, full burn, keep the weapons ready in case the
Gallipoli
decides to follow.”

William scanned the maintenance list and wondered how the hell he was going to fix some of those items. His additive cell could make an amazing variety of parts, but nothing large enough to replace the mass of conduits, weapon launchers, and pumps. He pictured what was left of the railgun and sighed. There was no way they’d be able to make one of those. “Shay, Bryce, start hitting the maintenance reports. Let’s see what’s on our plate.”

Bryce wiped his nose again and blinked his eyes dry. “Captain, I uh—”

“Not now, Mr. Bryce, we’ve a job to focus on. We’re going to need your help.”

Shay said nothing, but looked at Bryce for a second with hard eyes.

“I—” Bryce stammered.

“There’s a time for emotion, and this isn’t it. You have a job to do, and by god, you’ll do it!”

Bryce looked away and returned his attention to the console in front of him. No one acknowledged the outburst.

William seethed and watched Bryce. ”Launch camera drones, if we’ve got any. Let’s get a beauty shot.”

The first camera drone slid into space and pulled a dozen meters off the hull. The light pulsed then sprayed harsh lines of alkaline brightness onto the outside of the hull. The visuals showed what the damage reports could not.

The
Garlic
had the look of a rock gnawed on by an angry giant. It looked bad after the first engagement but was now almost totally worn thin, right to the nub. Pockmarks and craters were so dense that the starship looked like an actual asteroid worn by time.

The drone arced around the ship and panned the camera. A wide crevice disappeared into darkness deep inside of the hull. A flash of alloy and wiring showed the depth of the wound. The wreckage of the railgun appeared. It was wrapped around the front of the ship, twisted and torn.

William took it all in. He was speechless, any other ship of the same size would have been ripped apart. The
Garlic
was more than just an asteroid, there was something inside holding it all together.

Many years ago, he ran gunnery ranges as a cadet. The time was spent observing strikes in space against a course of asteroids. They never lasted more than a few runs. Whatever this hull was made of was something new. The big question was: could he make more?

The bridge crew collated the data and sorted it as it came in. Even Grgur was tasked with systems he was familiar with. The rest of the crew was either stuck in EVA suits or in areas of the ship where they couldn’t do much but wait.

The atmosphere indicator above the hatch changed from red, to yellow to a flickering green. The hatch opened and a large orange suit stepped inside. Behind it the space of a portable airlock was stretched tight. Beyond that: darkness.

Huron slid the faceshield to the side. One cheek was crisp looking, like a sudden burn had flared against it. “Oh nice, you’ve got gravity here.”

“Out elsewhere?” William asked.

Huron nodded. “It’ll take a while for the nanites to propagate, then we’ll get more data.”

William nodded and beckoned to an observer’s chair. “Sit.”

Huron patted his large, orange behind and shook his head. “Not in my fat suit, sorry.” He leaned against the wall and looked at the displays above him. “We can get it sealed up well enough, at least enough to get back to a UC base for refit.”

The decision William had been avoiding was on him. Stay, or go? He glanced up and counted back the days. If they left now, and had no issues, they could return to a UC base and the ship wouldn’t disintegrate. If they stayed for more than a week or so, they couldn’t make it back.

“Huron, what’s the hull made of?”

Huron looked around to the walls and licked his lips. “An asteroid aggregate, nanite binder. Fiber reinforced maybe?”

“Gruffalo told me that the ship would disassemble if it wasn’t back after a set amount of time,” William said, and hunched his shoulders.

Shay looked over her shoulder at William. “Really?”

“There’s fractures, tensions between the colonies and Earth. You know all of the Admirals that weren’t Earth-born resigned,” William said.

“The whole crew is colonists,” Shay said.

The bridge was silent. Huron’s suit made the only sounds as the refrigerant unit hummed.

“I don’t want to go back,” William said. It was like tearing weeds as he spoke the words. Hard, brittle, abrasive. “We can make a difference here. Save a world.”

Huron glanced to Shay and back to William. “Do we really know?”

“Admiral Dover said so. Can you verify?” William asked Huron.

“Maybe,” Huron said.

“How much time do we have?” Shay asked.

“Another week in system. If we’re not gone by then, there will be difficulties,” William said.

“Difficulties,” Shay said with a snort.

“If we stay, it’ll take us longer than a week to make repairs,” Huron said.

William nodded. “I took an oath to the United Colonies, not to Earth.” He knew this to be true, knew it in his heart, knew it in his soul. This was his duty, not just to protect Earth. “I want us to stay. But once—and only once—we’ll put it to a vote.”

Huron nodded and rested his head against the back of the suit. “Well, make it quick, Captain, we’ve got a lot of work to do.”

William keyed up the ship wide comms and laid it out. He stared at the list of dead crew and felt a guilt, a heavy weight that was on him and only him. He’d asked so much of them once before, and now he asked even more. They’d be disobeying a direct order, but following an oath to the letter. He knew what was right.

Grgur took the votes as the crew called in. It was, like the first time, unanimous.

The screens flickered and danced as more systems networked into the nanite stream. With every new system came a new task. Everything was fragged or slagged. The only things that survived were the items cradled closest to the core, or the heavily distributed systems.

William felt anxiety rising as he wondered if it was all a mistake. They might not even make it out alive without a fight. The only thing he could take solace in was the fact that they’d bloodied the troopship. Someone on the ground should be thankful for that, he thought.

“Captain, an idea,” Huron said.

William nodded. “Go on.”

“There’s mining infrastructure everywhere. At the very least, we can refit basic systems, strap on some plating, maybe even find out what the hull is made of.” He reached his suited arm over Bryce’s shoulder. “Sorry Bryce. Now, here.”

The third closest Core mining base blinked on the display.

“That one, it was a refit station.”

William scanned his eyes over the maintenance list once more and nodded. A better course than trying to refit in space. “Right, set course and dock up. Until then, Mr. Huron, take whatever help you need and get us on track.” On the edge of his vision the icons for the planet and local infrastructure danced. A single launch had docked up onto the station. He hoped Ms. Rose was having better luck than he. “Mr. Bryce? Listen to comms as best you can. If you have an opportunity to get a secure channel on planet let me know. There’s still the UC consulate.”

Bryce looked up with red eyes and nodded quickly. “Aye, aye, Captain.”

William sighed sadly and began to work on a new crew rotation.

––––––––

“Ambassador to see you, ma’am,” Bark said, as she checked the slide on her pistol.

Natyasha felt anxious, excited, but still anxious. So far everything had worked. But why the anxiety? Whatever troops were in that ship weren’t nearly enough to counter her own. “Let him wait.”

Bark spoke in a low voice into her commset. She tucked the pistol back into a holster under her heavy jacket.

“Is everyone in place?”

“Riots are in progress. We’ve got the immigrants out of key areas and are pushing them into the receiving complex. More troops are on standby.”

“And the consulate?” Natyasha asked as she turned to look at Bark.

Bark gave a crisp nod. “Clear.”

Natyasha didn’t press for more details. If it ever came down to it, she’d rather not know. That was a bridge that needed to be burned. Now there was no going back, not for any of them. The moment had solidified, she could feel the fluidity walking away. The confidence was back. “Let them dock. Once the troops come in, we’ll meet them with ours on the ground.”

“Which units?” Bark asked.

“All of them,” Natyasha replied. “Bark, who docked?”

“Sister Dandalaza. She had a passenger.”

Natyasha turned back around to Bark. “A passenger? Where the hell did they pick up a passenger?”

“It’s Emilie Rose.”

Natyasha smiled and nodded. “Mustafa’s, eh? Is she...?”

“Processing, until you clear her.”

“Put her into quarantine, I’ll want to speak with her.” Natyasha didn’t want to burn that bridge just yet. There was too much to be gained from the person who held the codes to the additive cells.

“What about Mustafa?”

“Give him a task, I don’t care what it is.” Natyasha walked to the door and had a feeling things were turning to her advantage.

The trip to the elevator was brief. Streams of black smoke snaked upwards into the misty sky. Debris and garbage littered the streets, streets that were ugly to begin with and now outright hideous. They passed squat concrete buildings of residential housing and commercial zones.

The area near the elevator was even worse. The concrete was worn, cracked, and stippled on the surface with ridges of red rebar peeking through. Even the plasticized panels of the buildings wept corrosion. The salt rich sea deposited a mist onto everything. What salt the sea didn’t drop the industrial condensers did.

Around the base of the elevator was arrayed nearly a thousand troops. They wore an amalgam of uniforms, wielded a variety of weapons, and all tried to look like they were something they were not. Professional. Most lacked modern weapons, instead cradling percussion rifles with actual powder charges inside.

Natyasha watched them as the vehicles rode in and wondered if they felt like the patriots they were. Here it is, she thought. The birth of a nation. More than that. Much more, or so she hoped. She glanced back to the Harmony World’s Ambassador and saw the smug smile on his face.

The Ambassador craned his neck and looked behind him. “An amazing welcome for our troops.”

Natyasha smiled back warmly and leaned forward to pat the Ambassador’s knee. “Of course, just enough to make you welcome.”

He smiled back and had the look of someone who was pleasantly placid. “There’s a bright future here.”

“Garth coming in,” Bark said from the front of the car.

Natyasha wanted to curse and instead smiled back at the Ambassador. Garth wasn’t supposed to be here. He was a willing accomplice, but not a partner. “Ask Mr. Garth to meet me at the council hall.”

“It’s too late, some of his boys were running the gate,” Bark said.

The Ambassador raised an eyebrow as if highlighting a faux pas. “Problems?”

“Of course not,” Natyasha said and opened the door.

The air outside had the same slippery feel it did everywhere along the coast. The slight edge of chlorides with a taste of metal. Every breath brought a feeling in the back of the throat like bleeding teeth. But it was crisp, almost refreshing. Even the scent of perpetual oxidation still brought the taste of something new.

Natyasha felt the broken concrete under her shoes. She felt the touch of the sea. But most of all she felt the exuberance around her. The air was electric with the feeling of triumph. Word of the UC defeat already hit the news, padded carefully with her involvement hiring the
Gallipoli
. She raised a single hand into the air and pumped her fist.

The crowds erupted around her into cheering broken by hoots and yells. Groups of men and women in rain streaked clothing looked like conquerors. The smiles were wide, jubilant, and everywhere.

They surged together in a mass and stood at the base of the elevator complex. They were a mob. An unruly group celebrating and basking in the moment.

A single elevator broke through the low cloud cover and drew down a cascade of rain with it. A shear of wind blasted through, followed by the deep humming of the grav drive decelerating the car. It paused for a moment a dozen meters off the ground while mechanical arms latched on. Finally it settled down at the cargo platform.

Natyasha glanced at the Ambassador and saw a man who was happy. Too happy, she thought. The smugness was inevitable for a victor, but she should have been smug, not him. She glanced at Bark and gave her a quick nod. She leaned close to Bark’s ear. “Is a car ready?”