Vertigo: Aurora Rising Book Two (30 page)

“I want to know one thing, Liz. Your interrogators will want to know a great deal more, but I merely require one piece of information.
Why?
Why cause a war? Why frame a fellow agent? Why kill a fellow agent?”

“I didn’t kill Volosk. He was a decent man. Didn’t kill Nythal, either, even if he wasn’t.”

“But you know who did, don’t you?”

“That’s more than one question, boss.”

He placed both hands on the table and leaned over it until his face was positioned centimeters from hers. He’d decided ‘who’ was a far more important question than ‘why.’ His voice emerged as a low, rumbling growl. “Answer the question.”

She shrugged. “I don’t know enough to hand them over to you—assuming I would, which I don’t plan on. Aliases, dummy accounts, dead-drop exanet addresses. You know how the game works, don’t you, old man?”

She held his stare, but he took some small comfort in seeing a glint of fear in her eyes. “But I will tell you why, because I’m feeling charitable. We have cowered in the shadow of the Alliance for too long. We make nice and pay tribute to those arrogant fucks and they don’t deserve it. We are so much better than those tawdry, pretentious pricks.”

“That’s what this is? You want to piss all over the Alliance because it’ll make you feel special? You’re nothing more than a playground bully desperate for validation.”

“Bullshit. This isn’t about me. Seneca is ready to rule this whole galaxy, if it only dared. I just tried to give it a little nudge.”

“These are people’s lives you’re destroying with your little nudge. You’re a psycho, and you aren’t worth a second more of my time.” He shoved off the table and tossed a dismissive hand in her direction. “Enjoy your nice, long stay in solitary. I’m sure someone will persuade you to talk eventually. Or not.”

He stormed out and down the hall, waving off several agents via a glower threatening enough to ensure they stayed away.

Why did being one of the good guys have to be such a pain in the ass sometimes? He needed a stiff drink, then another one—but he couldn’t spare the time because the galaxy continued to blow itself up apace. And it wasn’t interested in taking a breather on account of his foul mood.

His glower sent two passengers scurrying out of the lift as he barreled onto it. It occurred to him he should perhaps tone it down a bit; he probably resembled a madman on a chimeral bender and if he wasn’t careful someone would show up wielding a tranquilizer.

He grumbled at the empty lift and made a note to have the drink later.

A red light flashed in the corner of his vision. Concerned Isabela was in danger or another agent of his was dead or the aliens were making a house call, he opened the message.

None of those events had occurred, thankfully. Instead it was a priority request bumped up the chain to him.

And with good reason. A hoarse chuckle bubbled up from his chest as he stepped off the lift and hurried toward his office. For the first time in days, a feeling which might be misdiagnosed as hope stirred in his gut.

30

PORTAL PRIME

U
NCHARTED
S
PACE

“
D
AMMIT,
H
ELMSMAN, GET YOUR
ZADNITSA
to an escape pod now!”

Russian. Him. Alex willed the scene to crystallize faster.

“But sir—”

“I can fly her, I assure you. Now get out of here—that’s an order!”

She was on the deck of an Alliance military ship. A cruiser. She knew this not from the size or layout of the bridge but because of who stood at the railing which framed the sunken navigation pit.

Commander David Nikolai Solovy leapt into the pit, taking time to pat the helmsman on the back as he reluctantly departed the bridge before dropping into the flight chair and strapping in.

Dad.

He was so damn handsome, even with his dusky blond hair strewn wild by too many fingers being dragged through it and a thin sheen of sweat coating his neck and arms beneath rolled up sleeves.

He was now alone on the bridge. Everyone had been evacuated. Outside the viewport the incredible brightness of the Kappa Crucis blue supergiant dominated in spite of the clumpy H II gases.

Considerable debris from wrecked ships floated silently against the hazy white-blue glow. The
Stalwart
was extremely close to the supergiant. Dangerously close.

She rushed down to the navigation pit.

He monitored three screens while struggling to keep the cruiser steady and muttering a variety of colorful curses in Russian under his breath. The first screen displayed the position of the ship relative to the supergiant and the research station; the second tracked the Senecan fleet as it endeavored to navigate the debris-covered battlefield. The final screen monitored the status of the civilian and damaged military vessels currently evacuating the system behind the
Stalwart
.

She crouched beside him to stare up at his face in wonder. Her fingertips reached out to touch his arm, though it was impossible. She wasn’t really there. Like the scenes that came before, she was merely witnessing a recording of an event from the past. But oh how it
felt
as if she were there.

His eyes rose to check the scene outside, shining liquid silver brimming over with intelligence and intensity. Inputting a series of quick commands, he rerouted all the navigation and weapon controls to his station. Seconds later the thrusters fired beneath them.

The battle had been a rout from the beginning, so the story went, and the landscape outside the viewport verified it. But for her the story of the Kappa Crucis Battle had always been so much more than a history lesson.

The Alliance had been steadily losing their previous dominance of the sector for weeks. When the decision was finally made to evacuate the research station staffed with scientists studying the region of active star formation, technicians, and their families, Strategic Command sent a regiment to oversee and protect the evacuation.

The Federation had placed monitoring equipment throughout the region; fearful the regiment was sent as a challenge to their increasing control, they sent an overpowering force to crush it.

Two Alliance cruisers, four frigates and sixteen fighters stood no chance against the Senecan division-strength fleet that arrived, but the evacuation was already underway and the civilians required protecting.

Rear Admiral Fuschida had taken the
EAS Lincoln
and three frigates to engage the Senecan forces before they reached the station. Commander Solovy and the
Stalwart
were ordered to stay behind and guard the station, while the final frigate and a flight of fighters provided close protection for the evacuating shuttles.

Fuschida mined the route from the research station, ejecting tactical fusion anti-ship mines throughout the area while leaving a narrow passage clear for the inevitable retreat.

Two of the frigates and most of the Alliance fighters were destroyed in the primary engagement with the Federation forces, though not before wrecking one of the Federation frigates and a number of their fighters. The third frigate dispatched to the front line suffered catastrophic damage and was left unable to navigate.

The
Lincoln
suffered considerable damage but, for a time, remained flightworthy. However instead of retreating, Fuschida elected to deploy additional mines until the last possible second behind a virtual wall of burning ship debris, unexploded ordinances and spaced soldiers from both sides of the battle.

Alex joined him in staring out the viewport. The destruction was immense, but she discerned the narrow passage through the mines and debris.

The final strategy of Rear Admiral Dawn Fuschida appeared to have been successful; the approach to the research station, the
Stalwart
and the derelict vessels represented a deadly gauntlet that would force the Senecans to approach single-file, one ship at a time, or risk detonation of the mines.

When the
Lincoln
at last splintered apart under the incessant fire from the bulk of the Senecan fleet, the hull ripped open and the balance of her tactical mines drifted into space, all but blocking the circumscribed entrance into the gauntlet.

She watched as her father did what she knew he would—position the Stalwart broadside at the exit point of the gauntlet.

This was the part of the story that had never made sense to her. For twelve minutes while the Senecan forces split—some working to clear a path through while others gave the mines and debris a wide berth and went the long way around—his ship had sat and waited. She had always assumed he was giving his own men time to evacuate or that his ship had been crippled beyond hope of flight. But it was apparent his ship was fully evacuated and, though slightly damaged, still flightworthy.

Despite the knowledge he would never hear her, she couldn’t stop herself from screaming at him, begging him to just GO. The horror of his impending death loomed dark and foreboding in her mind like the event horizon of a black hole, yet a tiny spark of hope welled inside her that somehow, some way, his fate might be avoided.

“Dad, run, now! The path is blocked, and you can get away! Run, please!”

Then the ship shuddered violently from the force of an impact.

She stood and approached the viewport…and finally understood.

The Senecans had launched drones into the channel to move the mines. While it would be some time before the gaps were wide enough for the larger ships to proceed, fighters were able, with careful flying, to successfully navigate the gauntlet. Many of the evacuating vessels and the few fighters protecting them lacked sLume drives and had not yet reached the carrier waiting ten megameters away. But for the
Stalwart
blocking the way, the Senecan fighters would be able to run them down.

It was the reason he had positioned the ship across the breadth of the gauntlet exit. It was the reason he had not run.

Her father rerouted all power except for weapons and minimal life support to the starboard shields. As fighters began approaching they aimed for a small gap at the bow of the
Stalwart
, hoping to slide through.

The fire from the
Stalwart’s
pulse lasers was relentless, and the first wave of fighters were shredded under the superior targeting and firepower of an Earth Alliance cruiser. By positioning the ship as he had, David Solovy had closed the gauntlet using his own ship as the final impenetrable barrier—save for a tiny path which became his own personal shooting gallery.

A deep male voice boomed through the bridge. “Unidentified Earth Alliance Captain, stand down and remove your ship from the area or you will be destroyed.”

Alex ran back to her father, panic and despair in her eyes.

He sat in the pilot’s chair, one hand idly hovering over the comm panel in front of him for several seconds. Then he casually kicked the chair back, withdrew his hand from the panel and delivered his response for himself alone.

“Go fuck yourself, you
svilochnaya peshka
.”

The bridge shook, and her gaze darted back to the viewport.

The open space ahead had widened—more mines now prodded away—and a Senecan frigate traversed the gauntlet, weapons firing. Having recognized the lie of the tantalizing gap, multiple fighters hung back with the frigate and added their weaponry to the barrage. Her father couldn’t return fire without changing the angle of the ship, which would open the exit and bring an end to his blockade.

Instead he reached over and his left hand activated another panel.

“Miri, are you there?”

Miriam Solovy’s voice came over the comm, clear and strong above the sounds of wrenching metal and muffled explosions. “David? David, what’s going on? We’re getting reports of a battle near
Kappa Crucis
….”

He gave the empty bridge a grim smile. “Yeah, um…it’s looking rather
khrenovo
for us, I’m not going to lie. But I’ve bought time for the research station to evacuate and provided cover for our damaged ships to retreat.”

Her mother’s voice dropped warily. “David, what are you doing? You’re not thinking of being some kind of hero, are you?

“I…I suppose I am. Listen, I don’t have a lot of time. The ship’s getting banged up fairly badly at this point, but I—”

“Then get
out
of there. I’m sure you’ve saved plenty enough lives—save your own, dammit!”

A desperate sigh fell from his lips. “No can do, I’m afraid. The escape pods and a number of civilian shuttles from the station are still trying to get out of danger. I can’t abandon them to be blown to bits.”

“David Solovy, you listen to me this instant.” Her mother’s voice had gained an almost desperate tenor, but resonated with stern authority nonetheless. “I am giving you a direct order as your superior officer. You turn tail and you
run
. If you can’t fly then you get yourself to an escape pod and you
escape
.”

“Ah,
dushen’ka
, you know the ranking officer on the battlefield has command. Rear Admiral Fuschida and Commodore Giehl are dead, so that’s me. I wish I could, I really, really do. Listen, I want—” the bridge quaked from the strain of a direct hit from the Senecan frigate impacting the lower decks.

He gripped the armrests tightly to keep himself in the chair “—I want you to tell Alex I love her so, so much, and I am
so
sorry I won’t be there to see her grow up. But I just know she is going to be amazing. She already is. Tell her…tell her there are times in this universe when you simply have to stand for what you believe in, no matter the cost. And tell her she is going to shine like—”

“You tell her yourself. Goddammit, David, you and our daughter are the only two people I’ve ever given a damn about in this entire galaxy. Don’t you
dare
leave me alone!”