“I doubt the flight controller gives a damn at this moment about who has clearance,” Grady said. “Probably got more important matters on their mind, like staying alive.”
“Ahem, as it happens, Captain,” interjected the AI, “we are receiving an external, encrypted comm on a narrow band. They wish to speak with you.”
“Kotov must have found a way to restore the station’s external comms,” Grady said. “Put him—”
“I’m afraid it is someone else, a woman. Though she is most insistent,” Mal declared. “Unpleasantly so.”
Grady dropped his face into his hands. “Let me guess: Cassandra.”
“Award that man a prize,” Mal said. “Shall I put her through?”
As Tara piloted the craft away from the external dock, she glanced sideways at Grady. “More talking means less shooting. By the imperials, that is.”
“Good point,” Grady said, lifting his head. “Gives you time to move us into position.” He sat up straighter in his seat. “Alright Mal, on speaker, please. Audio only. The last thing I want to see staring at me is her smug face.”
“Go ahead, caller,” Mal said, his tone lighthearted. “This should be good,” he added in an undertone.
Static popped from overhead, replaced by a stern female voice. “Your AI is just as preposterous and unpleasant as you, Captain Grady,” Cassandra said. “Or whoever you really are.”
Grady wasn’t about to reopen the discussion about his identity. He made an expansive gesture. “It’s customary for well-wishers to cheer and wave when a warship departs on a new deployment.”
“Don’t flatter yourself, Captain,” Cassandra said. “There’s only one place you and your ship of phonies are going.” Grady was sure he heard a sneer in her voice, picturing her lips curling in derision.
“Don’t tell me. You’ve laid on a special buffet and are calling to beg us to stay.”
“Oh, I’ve laid on something special for you, alright,” Cassandra said. “You, or rather your atoms, are about to become a permanent fixture orbiting Overlord Station. My first official act as governor is to order your destruction. The rest of your rebel friends will soon join you.”
“You know something, Cassandra,” Grady said, eyeing the sensor holo as Tara eased the ship around the station’s circumference. “I never liked you in my dimension, and you’re even more of a pain in the ass in this one.” He reached forward, killed the comm before she responded, and turned to Tara. “Please tell me we’re almost ready to put her out of my misery.”
“We’re being targeted,” Mbeki said, preempting Tara’s reply. “The station is firing on us.”
The floor bucked—causing the safety harness to cinch across Grady’s chest—and an alarm shrilled as laser cannon blasts hammered the shields.
“Someone appears not to be thrilled with us,” Mal said. “It seems your conversational skills could use some improvement, Captain.” Another barrage sent a tremor through the hull. “Shields at eighty-seven percent.” A further blast arrived as red icons strobed on the tactical holo. “Correction, eighty-two percent and falling. We are being bracketed by a pair of laser cannon batteries. It seems her antipathy toward you knows no bounds.”
“The feeling is mutual,” Grady muttered.
“Almost there,” Tara said, her voice calm as she adjusted the joystick. “Thirty seconds.”
Grady looked toward the weapons console. “Sergeant, you have permission to fire when Mal confirms we are at the exact coordinates. This has to be a precision shot, no margin for error. I don’t want any collateral damage.”
Another bombardment rattled the pilot’s console. “Position attained,” Mal announced.
Mbeki tapped his holo. “Torpedo away.”
Tara angled the control stick sideways. “Moving us off so we’re not caught by the blast.”
As Grady watched the wraparound screen, a white flash blossomed on the curved, composite surface of New Heb. “Direct hit,” Mal said. A moment later, he added, “The station’s defensive network has ceased to target us. It appears the strike was successful.”
This was confirmed when the external comm indicator flashed on the console. “Message incoming,” said the AI. “This time it is indeed Major Kotov.”
Grady shifted position, scowling as a fresh barb of pain darted up his leg. “Put him through.”
“Congratulations, Captain, your job is done,” Kotov commed. “You and your crew just helped save New Heb. With Cassandra and her key team members neutralized, I’ve now regained control of station’s systems. Next step is to mop up rest of now leaderless imperial intruders. Which will be my pleasure.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Grady said, “and I’ll pass on your thanks to my crew. However, you don’t get rid of us that soon. There’s a certain starcarrier and its captain who’re ripe for taking down. I’m sure your reality’s Rosie, just like ours, would have wanted us to finish what we started. We owe it to her memory.”
34
“I’ve known you to pull some crazy stunts, Bro,” Tara said, her chestnut brown curls seeming to glint in the light as she shook her head. She sat up straighter in the chair and folded her arms across her chest, scowling at Grady. “But this is on a whole different level of insanity.” She gave him a mischievous grin and poked his arm. “No offense, but have you lost whatever limited amount of common sense you were born with?”
“I have to agree, Jack,” Chalmers said. She paused to blow on the surface of her mug before taking a slow sip of raspberry vanilla herbal tea, then added, “Are you even sure you have full control of the cyborg’s stealth craft?”
The three were seated in Grady’s small office attached to his quarters, with the door closed. This setting had become the norm for smaller gatherings aboard Adventurer, such as when he wanted to hash out mission plans with a select group or required privacy to meet with a crewmember one-on-one.
With Zoe still in a serious condition, Mbeki continued to act as stand-in weapons officer. Grady had delegated Lian to take Tara’s place at the copilot’s position, while the ship flew on autopilot at FTL—watched over by Mal—en route to rendezvous with rebel vessels engaged against the incoming imperial fleet.
Grady lifted his head and glanced at the ceiling. “Mal, care to comment on that and reassure the professor? Keep it short, though, please. We don’t have much time until we reach the combat zone.”
“Certainly, Captain,” came the AI’s refined voice from the overhead speakers, once more speaking in butleresque tones. “It took several days and a significant number of hours during the journey from Cavalier outpost to New Heb station, but Zoe and I were finally able to crack the stealth ship’s encryption and access its computer core. From there, it was a simple matter to delve into each of its systems. We now have complete control over all the vessel’s functions.”
“That’s good to know, thank you,” Chalmers said. She met Grady’s gaze. “Even so, the plan sounds suicidal. What gave you the idea, anyway?”
Grady pointed at Tara without saying a word.
“Me?” she said, her eyes going wide. “I’m sure I’d remember suggesting you pilot an untested, prototype stealth ship, on your own, into the heart of an enemy fleet to attack their largest warship.”
