Derelict: Halcyone Space, Book 1 (35 page)

She sank into the high-backed chair and focused on any ping-back from the ansibles she could see directly. The soft murmur of orders and acknowledgments formed a background hum that comforted her. All these people, all the resources of the ship, were trying to find Ro.

The routine of ping, search, and check for reply became hypnotic. She had to blink away every few cycles to stay sharp. Part of her console screen showed the rogue ship and Nomi's gaze flicked toward it. Navigation mapped its trajectory, updating its course on a moment to moment basis, but there was nothing she could do to help. Ro was smart. Ro was resourceful. She was going to be okay.

An alarm blared through the bridge, obliterating the soft sounds of their routines. Nomi jerked upright in her seat as the lights flashed red.

"Target acquired. Engagement in ninety seconds." The AI's steady voice cut through the alarm.

Nomi blinked at the display. Two lights pulsed on the screen. One hung motionless in the field of stars.

"Battle stations," Targill ordered, his voice just as emotionless as the computer's.

"Shields stable."

"Weapons ready, Commander."

"Tactical ready."

The voices of the bridge crew seemed to come from everywhere, moving through her headset and the overhead comms in a strange echo.

"We have visual confirmation on Halcyone!"

"Magnify and display," Targill said.

Nomi looked up and gasped. Plasma vented from the ship in a thin milky stream that obscured the stars behind it. The wreck drifted, nearly invisible but for emergency marker lights and the glowing plasma. "No, no, it can't be," Nomi whispered, a heaviness lodging itself in her throat.

"Life support is offline. Engines are cold."

"Bring us around between Halcyone and the target."

Targill's voice was so calm.

"Scan for life signs when in range."

How could he be so calm? Nomi couldn't tear her gaze from the crippled ship. Ro's ship. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't swallow. Tears made her vision waver and Nomi swiped them away, forcing herself to stare at their target. "Die you sons of bitches," she whispered.

"Tactical, fire a warning shot."

Light crackled at the bottom of the view screen and arced toward the ship. Hephaestus rocked with return fire.

"Shield integrity at ninety-eight percent." The implacable voice of Hephaestus's AI kept a running counterpoint to the murmur of commands across the bridge.

"Comms, hail them."

Nomi jerked upright in her seat. She was comms now. With impossibly steady hands, she opened a line-of-sight channel for the commander.

"This is Commonwealth Vessel Hephaestus," Targill said. "Cease fire immediately and identify yourself."

She split her attention between her console screen and the commander. Another volley hit them and bounced off their shields.

"Shields holding."

"Halcyone in range. No life signs aboard."

The words seared themselves into her brain and Nomi cried out, her pain cutting through the bridge chatter like a plasma knife through polymer.

Targill kept giving orders as if the report and her reaction never happened. "Tactical, target comms and propulsion. I want that ship crippled."

"Aye, aye, sir," answered a chorus of voices from around her.

Crippled? They deserved to be obliterated. An ache settled in her chest as she stared back at the drifting, broken Halcyone. "I'm so sorry, Ro," she whispered. It wasn't fair. She barely got the chance to know her before the cosmos snatched her away. It wasn't fair. Nomi curled her hands into tight fists.

Hephaestus shook under a barrage of torpedoes. The red lights ringing the bridge stuttered before stabilizing.

"Evasive maneuvers!" Targill shouted.

Nomi gripped the armrests as the ship shuddered under the sudden acceleration. Her stomach fluttered until the stabilizers compensated.

"Shield integrity at seventy-six percent and falling."

The AI sounded positively cheerful, as if it were announcing local time or distance to a wormhole nexus.

"Helm, come about. Divert power from the rear to the forward shields. Plot a collision course."

"Yes, sir."

Nomi's hands shook to match the tremor in the helm officer's voice. She glanced at Targill, but his face remained utterly impassive. Only his roving gaze betrayed any of the tension he had to be feeling.

The rogue ship stood its ground and fired volley after volley.

"Shields holding."

"Increase speed twenty percent."

"Yes, sir."

The bridge vibrated ever so slightly as Hephaestus accelerated.

Their target switched to plasma cannons and the main screen flared out under the fierce impact.

"Increase speed another twenty percent."

"Aye, aye."

Nomi blinked as the screen refreshed. The ship bloomed huge in front of them. Her breath caught in her throat. Hephaestus zoomed out and rescaled. It was still too close.

"Fire all weapons."

"They're pulling away, sir."

"Calculate intercept course and pursue."

"Aye, aye, Commander."

Halcyone receded in the distance as they pursued the attacker. Nomi kept her gaze on it as long as she could until it dwindled down to a pinprick of light at the edge of her display.

***

The ships disappeared in a flash of weapons fire so intense it washed out the forward display. By the time the sensors had accommodated, there was nothing but empty space where the two vessels had been. "Well, there goes our ride." Ro slid to the floor, her whole body shaking, helpless to stop the laughter that echoed back to her, harsh and distorted.

"Ro, it's okay. We're safe."

Tears blurred her vision and she couldn't catch her breath. She was some desperate, wild animal, howling her mingled anger and fear to the empty cosmos. A hand pressed against the small of her back, warm, human, and reassuring.

"Ro. You did it. We're still here. It's okay."

She gulped in stale air and hiccupped several times as her breathing settled.

Barre hummed the soft fanfare he had written to access Halcyone, and the sound resonated through her bones. "Halcyone, bring life support and the stabilizers back on line. Right the ship. Set lighting to diurnal, daytime mode."

The room brightened and the barest of vibrations sent a tremor through the floor.

"Seal inner compartments. Assess and report atmosphere status."

Ro let Barre run through the ship's systems, comforted by his quiet competence. So this was what it was like to trust someone.

"Life support functioning at twenty-three percent. Crew advised not to leave sealed areas without backup oxygen."

That left them trapped here for the time being. At least she'd effectively trapped her father as well. Barre was a warm presence at her back and part of her wanted to just lie there and let someone else take charge. But that wouldn't be fair to him or to Micah. Ro might have dragged them into this on her own, but she wasn't alone anymore.

She took one more deep, steadying breath and pushed herself off the floor. "Thank you," she said. Barre lifted an eyebrow. "How's Micah?"

"I'll live," he said, his voice hoarse.

Ro swallowed in sympathy, her throat raw. "Good to know," she answered, barely able to look him in the eye.

Turning to her, he frowned. "Where is that fucker?"

"Stuck. In engineering," Barre answered. "Thanks to Ro."

She ducked her head and let her hair fall to cover her face.

Micah grunted, levering himself upright with his arms and looked down at his bandaged feet. "And where the hell are my shoes?"

"Melted. With several layers of skin," Barre said.

Micah's face paled and he lay back down, closing his eyes. "I didn't really need to know that."

"I wouldn't stress those bandages."

"You got it, Doc."

Ro's lips quirked into a brief smile as Barre accepted his defacto title.

"Someone mind telling me why we're in here?" Micah gestured to the disorganized, dismantled lab space. "And what happened while I was in brain orbit?"

"Quick version?"

"Sure."

Ro ticked off the major points on the fingers of her right hand. "My father's under radiation quarantine in engineering. Two ships intercepted us and probably blasted each other out of the cosmos while we played dead. We're still drifting and have no idea where we are. The hold is still full of weapons any number of parties are after. You need to be transported to a real medical facility after your action-hero impersonation." She ran out of fingers. "Oh, and Jem was evacuated to Hephaestus before everything went to shit. Any questions?"

He took a minute to digest all that before shaking his head. "So what do we do now?"

"Well, there's nothing we could do in the bridge that we can't access here. And I don't think it's a good idea to move you." She checked in with Barre and he nodded. "I know we have to be relatively close to Daedalus." Without star charts, it would be virtually impossible to navigate anywhere and stumbling around trying random burns in interstitial space was not Ro's idea of a good time. If they only had the damned star charts.

Her micro buzzed and Ro nearly let it crash to the floor. Her knees buckled and she grabbed the wall for support.

"What's wrong?" Barre asked.

She shook her head and reread the multiple copies of Nomi's scrolling message. Hephaestus had been one of those ships. The blood drained from her face. She turned to Barre and stared at him, her eyes burning with tears that refused to fall. He took her micro from her white fingers.

"No," he said. "We don't know. We can't know. Not for sure."

"Know what?" Micah asked, his gaze jumping from Ro to Barre and back again.

Barre kept his lips pressed together, still staring down at the message.

Ro collapsed to the floor, pressing her hands against her legs to keep them from trembling. "One of those ships was Hephaestus."

"Oh," Micah said.

The cargo bay fell silent. She closed her eyes, thinking of Nomi's gentle smile and her persistent kindness in the face of Ro's abrasiveness.

"We have to get back to Daedalus," Micah said.

"No," Barre said. "What if they need our help?"

It wasn't possible. There wasn't even enough debris left from the battle to register on their sensors.

"Look, if Hephaestus survived, they'll limp back to Daedalus. We can't stay here," Micah said. "Besides, our fathers have to pay for what they did, Ro."

Neither Jem nor Nomi would have been on that ship if it weren't for her. Ro slumped, her hair hanging lank and dull in her face.

"Barre, help me up," Micah said.

Ro ignored the shuffling across the room and Micah's sharp intake of breath. Two sets of feet intruded in her narrow view, one booted, the other bandaged. She looked up.

"We have to find a way back to Daedalus," Micah repeated, his face pale, but his gaze clear and steady.

"Tell us what you need us to do," Barre said, his voice hoarse, his skin grayed out, the circles beneath his eyes dark and shiny.

What she wanted to do was collapse and never get up again. There were not enough apologies in the world to ease the bruising in her heart or to soften Barre's grief, but if he could function, so could she.

A wet, dark stain spread across one of Micah's insteps. "Sit down, you idiot," she said. "And you." She turned her face to Barre. "You should know better."

Barre reached out his free hand and she let him help her up. Looking into his face, she made a silent promise to answer both Jem's loss and Nomi's, no matter what it took. She uncoupled a chair from its floor bolts and dragged it over to Micah.

"Sit."

He collapsed into the seat, trembling with relief.

"You need to keep them elevated." Barre pulled over a crate.

"But they don't hurt."

Ro looked down at her own foot, still blessedly numb in its cast. "That's not an advantage, you idiot."

"Warning. Unauthorized launch attempt. Emergency pod S-seven."

"Shit." Ro winced, reluctant to see the evidence of her stupidity, but they had to know. "Halcyone, show pod S-seven on ship's schematic, heads up display."

With vision-blurring speed, Halcyone zoomed through the ship, centering its point of view on engineering. Ro silently cursed her father.

"Warning. Unauthorized launch. Emergency pod S-seven."

"I'm sorry. I fucked up." She forgot to disable them, but who in their right mind would voluntarily cram themselves into one of the old-style life-pods unless they were desperate? Basically a kind of soaring airlock and without navigation or propulsion other than the initial thrust they got from their launch, the pods were slow, cramped and inefficient. Wincing, she looked up into Barre's and Micah's eyes, searching for the anger or condemnation she deserved.

"Halcyone, can you get a fix on it?" Barre asked.

"Affirmative."

He grimaced and triggered the authorization fanfare. "Track emergency pod S-seven."

"Course zero one three, mark twenty. Speed nominal."

"Where the hell is he going?" Ro said, more wondering than asking. "He wouldn't leave his precious cargo behind unless he had some plan to get control of it." The pods were barely big enough for a person, and Halcyone would have let them know if he'd been able to break the radiation lock-down and get to the cache. No, the guns were still on the ship. He had to be planning on retrieving them somehow. If they followed him, they could be limping right into a trap.

"He knows we're dead in the water," Micah said. "Hell, all he has to do is come back with a ship and declare salvage."

"Over my dead body," Ro said, glaring at him.

Micah glared back. "He'd probably be okay with those terms."

She knew he was right, on all counts. They had to move.

"Do you think he has charts?" Barre asked, staring at the little blip moving away from Halcyone.

"It doesn't matter. It's too risky," Ro said.

"Then what's our next move?" Micah said.

This would take Barre working on all frequencies. She looked into his grief-lined face. "We have to get control of the engines and navigation. With the wild burns this thing's made, it's a minor miracle we haven't plowed into an asteroid already."