Homebound Sector, Haven System, Warhawk 343
Anabelle only looked weaker without the warmth of sunlight on her pale skin. She looked gaunt, almost skeletal where she sat beside him. Ron’s hope was fading with the heat friction of the upper atmosphere, which was nearly gone as the stars began to brighten around their Warhawk.
He looked to Amelia. She looked pale and shaken. Whether that was uncertainty or vertigo, Ron was unsure. “Why did these people come after you, Amelia?” Could they truly be trusted? Allowing strangers to treat Anabelle was a risk. There were things in these worlds far worse than death.
“I…” Amelia stared out the window, a horrified gasp escaping her. The violet haze of the atmosphere had finally cleared, but the Flagship Olympia sat directly in their path. “No,” she breathed. This was all just a trick. It was nothing but a ploy to get her aboard Reeter’s ship.
The Colonel in the copilot’s seat chortled, “Honestly, why the hell did they paint her gray?” The ash color was so uneventfully plain, even with the addition of the shimmering white stripes. “She was almost a decent looking ship.” Almost.
“Colonel,” the female Marine next to Ron said, “this is why the Singularity doesn’t like you. You pay too much attention to her competition.”
Zarrey struggled to turn and look over the back of his seat, “Shut up, Cadet.” He never said the Olympia was pretty. “The Singularity’s a great deal more impressive. And I wasn’t the one that put two bullets in the Admiral’s chest. So, if there’s anyone on this ship our lovely battleship doesn’t like, it’s going to be you.”
“That was twelve months ago!” The Marine protested. “And the Admiral walked it off. He’s fine.”
“That doesn’t change the fact you shot him. Twice.” Zarrey had never been more impressed with the Admiral’s patience. Despite that arguably rocky start, Cadet Fay had become one of the most steadfastly loyal members of the crew.
Amelia paid no attention to their little debate. She was distracted by the void-like shadow that was sliding into view behind the Olympia. It was seething, the scars on the hull impossible to hide.
“The Singularity.” Only one ship could possibly be that unnatural wraith. Ron had never seen her during his tour on the Olympia, but he was well aware of the ship’s legend. Allegedly, she possessed the emotion that her commander had lost.
Seeing her now, Ron halfway believed it. The Singularity possessed an unnatural inheritance, a discomforting way of forcing the space around her to conform in ugly ways. She controlled the battlefields of war without firing a shot or uttering a word.
Hours had passed since her reappearance, but the Haven System’s other occupants continued going great distances to avoid crossing the dreadnaught’s path. The only vessel that did not shy away was the Flagship Olympia, but even the grand flagship was dwarfed by the Bloody Singularity’s aberrant aura of relentless embitterment.
A small fleck against the mass of its carrier, the Warhawk landed with a metallic clang. Amelia felt her palms start to sweat. Was this really a good idea? Her father had never spoken well of the Admiral. She already owed him for this rescue, but he was little more than a stranger to her.
There was a gentle lurch, and a part of the landing bay lowered itself away, taking them into the ship. The internal structure went by: angular metal structures and cross braces that were decorated by aging yellow lights and steaming vents. It was still, but dynamic, silent, yet attesting to strength.
They passed an engineer inspecting the infrastructure of the ship with a device in hand, secured by a harness. She cast them a glance and threw a haphazard salute to the Colonel, but soon was out of view.
With the exception of the lift noise and Zarrey’s one-sided conversation into the headset, it was quiet. Ron was preoccupied as he grasped onto Anabelle’s hand, begging her to keep breathing for just a few minutes more.
Soon enough, the Marine next to him unclasped her harness and popped open the hatch. Ron followed her, quickly picking up Anabelle and carrying her onto the wing. A full team of medical personnel was waiting.
“Is that my patient?” the doctor demanded.
“Yes,” Ron answered, passing her down, “Please help her, she’s very ill.” Anabelle was placed onto a stretcher as Ron hopped down.
“Yeah, I can see that.” The doctor grunted, kneeling down to take Anabelle’s temperature and pulse. “It’s almost like I’m a damn doctor and seeing when people are sick is my fucking job, which I hate.”
Zarrey stepped out onto the wing, with Amelia and Harrison trailing behind him. “Doc, shut up and help the patient.”
“Fuck off, what does it look like I’m doing?” Doctor Macintosh pulled the stethoscope off his neck and started listening to the child’s shallow breathing.
Amelia curled her nose up at the vile scent of the air, “Language, please.” Her son didn’t need to be exposed to that type of vulgarity. She’d had quite enough of it with the Olympia’s men. She was in no mood to put up with it here.
Ignoring her, the doctor glared up at Zarrey, “I’ll have you know, I don’t do kids. They’re disgusting and they sneeze on everything.” Macintosh was not fond of the little demons. “They won’t sit still when you try to give them a shot, so I blame you for ruining my day.” He’d been perfectly happy in the biolab running tests on the Scarlet Flu pathogen.
“Blame me all you want, but do your fucking job or I will revoke your alcohol privileges.”
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
If there was one thing Macintosh hated more than kids, it was being sober for more than a few days at a time. He made a noise of disgust, but turned to the nurses. “The kid’s stable, but we need to get her in isolation and run some tests.”
“Isolation?” Ron asked, “What’s wrong with her?” Had she caught some deadly disease?
“It’s for her protection, not ours.” Macintosh was fairly certain he knew what the child’s condition was. Bringing her to this new environment was a risk. There were lots of new germs her immune system hadn’t seen before here. “Let’s go.”
On his command, the two nurses hefted the stretcher up, and began to follow him across the hangar deck. Ron paused a moment, wondering if Amelia would be alright among these strangers, but chose to follow the medical team. He wouldn’t let Anabelle out of his sight – not aboard any ship that served Command.
Amelia was nervous. Ron was a stranger, but she at least had a reason to trust him. He had already saved her once. Him gone, she was surrounded by complete strangers. They may have freed her from that cabin, but for all she knew, this ship would become just another prison.
“Where is my uncle?” she asked, holding tightly onto her son’s sleeve to keep him from wandering off.
It took Colonel Zarrey a minute to remember who she was referring to. “Admiral Gives is not currently aboard.”
“Then where is he?” If he had known enough to send help, then he surely knew what she had been through the last few days. And yet he has enough gall not to meet me on the decks of his own ship? She was starting to remember why most of her family had not spoken so fondly of him.
“He’s likely still on Base Oceana,” probably contemplating the not-so-subtle murder of Charleston Reeter. “Chief Ty will take you to wait in his office.” Zarrey gestured to the man that had come up beside him.
Zarrey was leaving, Amelia could just tell as Harrison tugged at her hand, trying to look at everything around him. “What about Ron?” she asked him.
“He’ll be allowed to wait for his daughter in the medical bay,” Zarrey answered. They might be considered the worst crew in the fleet, but it was not because they were cruel. They would not separate the worried man from his daughter any more than they had to. “If you need anything, just ask. I’ll be in CIC,” Zarrey told the woman, as if she was expected to know where or what that was.
Amelia wasn’t given a chance to argue. Zarrey was quickly lost in the crowds, leaving her with another complete stranger, this one covered in black oil and grime. Still, he smiled politely, “I’m Chief Ty, the Singularity’s new chief engineer. Most people call me Chief or Ty, but you’re a civvie, so call me Jeff.”
“A civvie?” Amelia echoed.
“Civilian, sorry.” Ty smiled. “There’s a lot of slang on a military ship. You’ll catch on.”
Sure. Amelia watched him scrub at his hand. His pointer finger, thumb and middle fingers were all coated in black. Drips of the dried goo ran down his hand. “What is that?”
Chief Ty looked closer at his hand, and went so far as to sniff it before crinkling his nose and trying to wipe it off again. “I’m not actually sure. It looks like oil, but it smells like something else.” He was bewildered. “It came from Engine Three, but I’ll figure it out later.” First, he would take Amelia to the Admiral’s quarters. “Follow me.”
He started to lead them across the hangar deck, and Amelia had nothing more to say to him. She was tired. She just wanted to feel safe, but it was hard to feel safe around strangers who wore the same uniform as the people that had tortured her for the last week.
Harrison gawked at everything around him, halfway straining to run off and explore. “This is awesome!”
Ty laughed warmly, “The kid has taste.” Most people weren’t too impressed by the Singularity’s aging appearance. But then, likely, the kid had nothing to compare to the vintage planes and scuffed deck.
Amelia practically dragged her son into the less impressive corridors of the ship, but that didn’t stop his immense fascination with his surroundings. “When can I expect to see my uncle?” she asked, exhaustedly. She was tired of being passed off between strangers like a baton. She needed to know what fate awaited her and her son.
Ty spun open a hatch and held it open for them to pass through. “I’m afraid I can’t answer that. The Admiral runs things on his schedule. He didn’t specify what time he was due to arrive back from Base Oceana.” Unfortunately, Amelia was probably going to be disappointed with the Admiral’s list of priorities. “I understand you likely don’t know him very well,” it was a given, since Admiral Gives hadn’t taken shore leave in years, “just don’t be surprised by his distance. He’s that way to everyone.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Ty scratched his head, “I mean, don’t feel bad if he gives you a cold shoulder. He does that to everyone.” Bets were that his relatives would be no exception to the Admiral’s constant calm.
With his crew warning her about that, Amelia suddenly felt a lot less welcome aboard this ship. Her husband, when he’d been alive, had not been fond of her uncle. He’d claimed the man’s reputation in the fleet was unsuited for her to even hear. Perhaps she’d only been rescued as a tactical maneuver. Perhaps her only purpose here was to serve as a bargaining chip against Admiral Reeter. But then, what would become of Ron and Anabelle?
One deck lower, Ron was wondering that himself. He was already lost. Every corridor he passed on this ship looked exactly identical. Any painted labels he saw were scuffed beyond total recognition. The ship was a labyrinth. If he lost sight of Anabelle and the medical team, he was certain it would take him hours to wander out of the maze.
He focused mainly on keeping up with their pace, but was still bothered by the entire situation. “What’s Amelia Kleinfelter’s connection to this ship?” Why had they come to get her from the Olympia’s men?
“Her name is Amelia Kleinfelter-Gives,” the medical officer corrected harshly, “And she happens to be the Admiral’s niece.”
“The Admiral?” When Ron heard the rank, his mind automatically thought of Reeter, a consequence of his time serving under Reeter’s command… Wait. That name. Ron recognized that name. Holy shit. “The Steel Prince.”
“Admiral Gives,” Macintosh corrected, knowing how much the ship’s commander hated that nickname. “This is his ship, and he sent the Marines.”
“You all just went along with it?” No wonder the Prince had such an easy time abusing his power. His crew did not question anything, not even orders to rescue a sociopath’s estranged family for reasons unknown.
Macintosh stopped cold, but waved the nurses on as he turned to face the farmer. “I don’t think you understand where you are.”
Ron involuntarily shivered. He understood his situation quite well. “The Singularity.”
“The Lady Sin.” Partner in crime to the Steel Prince. Macintosh knew this stranger was oblivious. “This is Admiral Gives’ ship in every way, regardless of what we or Command have to say about it. His word is law aboard these decks.” The crew could argue, but one way or another, the Admiral’s orders would be fulfilled. “We did not question the directive to go get Miss Amelia because she was being held captive by the man that just killed thirty-two members of this crew.” Why should they question it? A hostage was a hostage, and this farmer was in no position to complain. Those orders would save his daughter’s life.
The doctor shoved his hands into his wrinkled white coat. “I do not care who you are or what your story is. You will give Admiral Gives your utmost respect because this is his ship. You will owe him your thanks for allowing us to help your daughter. Do you understand?”
Ron would be indebted to the most feared officer in the entire fleet. It was not a place he wanted to be, but it was that or let Anabelle die. He had no real choice. “I understand.”