Chapter 24

Summers sat in the command position watching Red Shift closely.

The tear gas had been cleared out and the bridge was again safe to operate. On her left stood Lieutenant Commander Rose who, normally, would have command of this shift. But, given the situation, Summers thought it best she take the deck for now. Either this precaution, or the presence of two soldiers on the bridge, seemed to make Lieutenant Commander Rose nervous and he had a habit of pacing back and forth.

"Please, sit down, Mister Rose," said Summers. Seeing him anxiously move about made her feel uneasy, even though she knew she had the situation well in hand. Ever since Calvin and his mutineers had been locked away, everything had been calm and uneventful—aside from Miles’ several vain attempts to bribe his doorguards with liquor.

"Ops, any progress on getting outside communications back online?" she asked. Cassidy spun her chair to face Summers.

"Maybe," she said. "I figured out what is blocking communications. Someone put a subroutine into our communications software that is causing it to think it's getting hailed over and over when it isn't. I cleared it out but it's in there redundant times. Hopefully," she said spinning back to her console "this is the last time."

"Keep me informed," said Summers. She turned her attention back to Lieutenant Commander Rose who had taken a seat but somehow managed to look even more uncomfortable.

"You're not in any trouble," said Summers. "So keep it together. Follow my orders and we'll be back on mission in no time."

The Lieutenant Commander didn't say anything. He didn't even make eye contact.

"Mister Rose," Summers raised her voice.

"Yes, Commander?" He snapped to attention in such a start it seemed his mind had been elsewhere completely.

"Are you able to perform your duties here?" she asked.

"Yes, Commander."

"Then look alive," she debated whether or not she should relieve him. He didn't seem unfit, necessarily. He wasn't tired or intoxicated or anything. Just nervous—a bad trait for the new acting XO to have.

"I did it, Commander," Cassidy said. "We have outside communication again!" she beamed, obviously thrilled she'd been able to solve the problem. Summers was at least as happy.

"Excellent work, Midshipman Dupont.”

Practically the instant communications were restored they received a message from Capital World, this time from the office of Fleet Admiral Tiberon—one of only eleven such admirals, one for each fleet. The lighting in his room seemed a bit unusual, making his face a little harder to see but it was still recognizable. The diamond emblem of his rank gleamed and reminded them all of his absolute authority.

He kept his message short, expressing concern over their recent loss of communications—a situation Summers assured him was under control—and gave them new orders. Rather than going to Xerxes they were to meet up with the Andromeda and a flotilla of warships. Summers was surprised the Andromeda was deployed this close to their position but was all the happier for it.

***

Calvin felt trapped in his quarters—not just physically, but psychologically also. He mulled over the situation, trying desperately to think of some new strategy he could implement. He thought about challenging his guard, his arms were free now, and Calvin—like all Intel Wing agents—was proficient with a mixture of martial arts. But the armed guard was probably at least as experienced, probably even more so. And should Calvin manage to beat him, what would that buy him? He had nowhere to go; he certainly couldn’t defeat all of Special Forces with his bare hands.

Another thought he considered was that, should he be able to get to Shen, perhaps they could adjust the navigational software to trick the ship into auto-course-correcting its way to Abia while appearing to still be on course to Xerxes. But he didn’t get too excited about that idea since he had no way to access Shen, no way for Shen to get inside engineering, and no reason to believe such an idea was even possible to implement.

As much as he hated it, and blamed it, his impulse was to take some equarius. It always had a way of making everything seem better. It could force him to smile for absolutely no reason in even the worst situations... but all the pills had been seized while he was away—and probably for the best. His open safe was as barren as the prison he was destined for. His weapons too, few that they'd been, were gone.

It was all too frustrating, to the maximum degree, that this was happening to him, on his ship, right when they were so very, very close. Damn the Fleet!

He was surprised to hear his door open, and even more surprised to see who had entered.

“I told the guard I had to sweep your room for weapons,” said Captain Pellew.

Calvin looked at him, his room had already been thoroughly cleaned out. "Why are you really here?"

Pellew made sure the door was closed before he spoke. "I'm on your side."

Calvin felt his heart quicken.

"A lot of us are still on your side, I think."

Calvin felt a surge of hope but at the same time a hint of suspicion. In his experience, nothing in life came that easily. "Why would you help me?"

Pellew smiled. "The good of the Empire, right?"

Calvin didn't say anything.

"Look, my reasons are my own. But I am offering you help, I suggest you accept it otherwise it may not be offered again.”

Calvin nodded. Suspicious as he was, he couldn’t afford to be picky.

"Then we need to figure out how to retake the ship," said Calvin. "Before we get to Xerxes.”

"Actually we’re on course to rendezvous with a flotilla of warships led by the Andromeda."

"That's not good,” said Calvin. He wasn't sure why those in command thought meeting the Andromeda was preferable to going to Xerxes, unless the Andromeda was closer. Making it all the more important for them to beat the clock. "How far out are they?"

"I don't know," said Pellew. "Probably a few hours still. Maybe less."

Calvin nodded, that made sense. Especially if the Andromeda had been sent after them the minute he declared his intention to go to Abia. "Okay then. How much of Special Forces will side with me if you're behind me?"

"Six guys. Only a fourth of Special Forces but proven men all. Some of the best.”

"I see," said Calvin. He was grateful for the newfound help—if they really were on his side. “We have to regain control of the strategic points. If we take the bridge we can lock it out and keep only a skeleton force there, but engineering will be harder to defend. I’m going to need all your men there. As for taking those areas, coordinating two simultaneous strikes would be best.”

“Yes, though that may not be possible,” said Pellew. “Without freeing your people, or else recruiting more sympathizers from the crew.”

Calvin nodded. “In the meantime you’d better get some extra weapons so, should we get more help, we can arm people.”

“I already have a guy on it.”

“Good. And, if we can, I’d like to avoid causing fatalities. We’ll need non-lethal weapons. Hopefully that will be the Major’s strategy too.”

“It will be. The Major is a by the book CO and the book is very clear on this. Because the enemy combatants—that’s us—are Imperial citizens, we have to be taken-in as non-violently as possible. If we don’t switch to lead they won’t either. They can’t.”

The door whisked open again and in stepped Calvin’s door guard.

"What are you doing here, Simms?" Pellew snapped. "You’re supposed to remain outside. Return to your post now, soldier!"

"I'm unable, sir."

"Why?" Pellew asked.

Simms remained silent. Calvin could think of only one explanation, someone higher up the chain than Pellew had given him contrary orders which he had to obey. Probably he’d reported in that Pellew was secretly visiting Calvin and he’d been sent, by the Major, to see what it was about. Whatever the case may be, he had to be dealt with. Calvin made eye contact with Pellew who seemed to understand.

"Simms," said Pellew. "You're a good loyal man of the Empire, aren't you?"

"I am, sir."

"Then you want to do the right thing and defend it?” asked Pellew. "From threats inside and out?"

"I do."

"Then you must realize that what is happening on this ship is very wrong, and that Calvin's command must be restored. And as a good man of the Empire, you have to support him," Pellew squared his shoulders, preparing for the man's reaction—whatever it turned out to be.

Simms tensed. "As a good man of the Empire I must obey my orders."

"I respect that," said Pellew. Then, in the blink of an eye, Pellew withdrew his stunner and took a swing at Simms—who blocked it with both arms, knocking it aside.

Calvin bolted for Simms and exchanged a series of grapples and blows with the man, keeping him from drawing his own stunner.

Pellew came up from behind and put Simms into a chokehold, slowly increasing the pressure until Simms could no long breath and passed out.

"I tried to be reasonable," said Pellew, bending over to retrieve Simms' stunner and radio. He tossed them to Calvin then withdrew some thin cables from one of his cargo pockets.

"There’s no going back now," said Calvin.

"Had to be done," Pellew said as he dragged Simms across the floor and began cable-tying him to Calvin's desk. "The way I see it, we only have two choices: fight or give up."

Calvin nodded. “Whatever our next move is, we’d better act quickly.”

"I’ve already given my men orders, it’s time they execute them.” With that he clicked on the radio and spoke a command into it.” No reply came but Calvin thought that was probably deliberate.

“So how do you and I factor into this plan?” Calvin asked as he followed Pellew out of his quarters at a brisk jog.

“We’re going to help take engineering.”

***

Summers was surprised to see two additional Special Forces soldiers step onto the bridge. She was going to greet them but they spoke first. There was something… familiar about them.

“Mitchell and Adams reporting, sir,” the older-looking one said. “Adams” was stitched to his lapel.

“I didn’t ask for additional security,” she said, raising a curious eyebrow.

“We’re reporting here as their relief,” he motioned toward the other two Special Forces soldiers who’d been with her since she’d retaken the bridge—not very long ago. Being inferior in rank to Adams, they saluted when he addressed and dismissed them.

Summers’ curiosity faded as she realized what was happening was perfectly routine. Probably the others were being reassigned to some other task their skills were better suited to. She turned back to face the front of the bridge.

“Where would you like us to set up, sir?” Adams asked from behind.

“Wherever you think is best,” Summers replied.

At that moment her direct line to the Major beeped and she answered it. “Bridge.”

“Commander,” the Major’s voice could be heard. “I’ve lost contact with the soldier standing guard outside Calvin’s quarters. What is your status up there?”

“Everything is fine up here, Major,” she said. “Thank you for sending fresh soldiers to relieve my guard.”

“I didn’t send any relief soldiers.”

At that moment she felt a cold hand on her neck and something hard press against the side of her head. She screamed, startled, and heard Cassidy gasp.

“Push that button again and tell the Major everything is fine,” Adams said from behind her. Summers felt a surge of fear swirling inside her but, as she focused on the situation at hand, she suppressed it and instead felt only cold, merciless anger.

She pushed the button. “And one more thing Major.”

“Yes, Commander.”

“Seal off engineering!” Her finger came off the button as she was thrown forward, crashing to the ground on hands and knees. She jumped up resiliently and spun around to see both Mitchell and Adams holding stunners. Mitchell was forcing Patrick to seal off the bridge while Adams instructed them all to remain calm and not resist.

Summers saw her chance and sprinted for the operations console.