Fire on the Frontline Read online

  Then, the Udenar just stopped.

  As fast as they had started their attack, they broke formation and scattered in different directions, like flies being swatted away from a carcass.

  “We’re getting FTL signatures from their ships,” Ferriero said, the excitement in his voice palpable. He’d live to fight another day, and he couldn’t be more excited about it. “They’re going to jump! They’re going to leave!”

  As he said it, the whole CNC erupted in cheer—officers stood up from their workstations and shouted as they and started clapping each other on their backs.

  In any other situation, Jeryl would have ordered them to sit down and do their damn job. But in that moment, he saw himself standing as well and clapping Ferriero on the back.

  “The Udenar are jumping!” Ferriero told him, his eyes on his sensor’s screen. “They’ve given up!”

  “Where’s the shuttle?” Jeryl asked, not even bothering to spend another thought on the Udenar. The bastards were leaving, Galea was glassed as Armada Intelligence demanded, and the civilians were safe.

  They had won the day.

  “The shuttle’s landing on the flight deck, sir!”

  “Then you have the bridge, Ferriero. Treat my ship right, or I’ll have your head,” Jeryl said, clapping him on the back once more.

  “Captain? Where are you going?”

  Jeryl just grinned at his nav officer.

  “I made a promise to my wife, and I intend to keep it.”

  Chapter 30

  Cassius

  “How’s my girl?” Cassius asked, returning his daughter’s smile. They slipstreamed each other as often as they could, which wasn’t really often enough.

  “Good, daddy. I’m getting straight As and we’re in the derby championship,” Sienna beamed.

  “And Peyton?”

  “She’s...fine,” Sienna said as she looked down.

  “What is it?” Cassius knew she didn’t want to get her sister into trouble, so he pushed. “Talk to me, Sien.”

  “She’s hanging around a wild crowd, dad. She never does her work, talks back, and gets into fights all the time.” Tears formed in her big brown eyes but refused to fall.

  That would explain why she was never around to talk to him. Cassius hoped she would turn out better. He knew there would be some problems with both of them, but it was like they have become two extremes on opposite ends.

  Sienna was so afraid of losing those she cared about and she did all she could to please everyone. Cassius’ adopted daughter, Peyton, decided she didn’t give a shit because everybody she cared about died at some point. At the rate she was going, she was doing her damned best to make sure she went before anyone else.

  Cassius knew shipping them off to boarding school didn’t help her abandonment issues, but he had no choice. It was the best school in the Human Confederation, and security was airtight. Most diplomats sent their children there. He knew right when he was still Tribune that staying with him was not a safe option.

  He prayed they never found out how he became Chancellor.

  “Is she on drugs?” He was aware of a problem with the older kids and their homemade remedies for a quick buzz. Oh, god, don’t let her be on drugs already.

  “I don’t think so, but I’m not sure.”

  “Thanks for telling me, sweetie. Be good.”

  “You too, dad. Love you.”

  “Love you, kiddo,” Cassius said then powered down the slipstream.

  Of course, he had already received progress reports on both girls. The only reason Peyton hadn’t been kicked out was because she was the Chancellor’s daughter. He just wanted to see if Sienna would tell him the truth. The last five times they had spoken, she kept her mouth shut.

  If he knew his daughter, she waited until she was sure she couldn’t handle it herself before speaking up. She had this need to be her sister’s protector. If Peyton didn’t come around, Sienna would be dragged under with her.

  Now what to do about Peyton? She needed to be straightened out, but how did he accomplish that from halfway across the system? He thought about putting her in a reform school, but didn’t want to traumatize her by separating her and Sienna.

  Tapping his fingers on the desk, he came up with the solution. He hit the comm button.

  “Donovan, set up a personal bodyguard for each of my daughters,” he ordered. “Cite the Udenar trouble as the reason.”

  “Yes, sir,” Donovan, the chief of security, answered.

  He had avoided that action until now, preferring for them to have a normal life as much as possible. Peyton was going to be pissed, but if it would keep her out of trouble, then he would do what he had to.

  Sienna would take it in stride. Her biggest problem would be the distraction. She hated to be distracted when she was trying to do her schoolwork.

  But he couldn’t worry about that now. It was enough to know that they were as safe as he could make them.

  Cassius picked up his tablet and swiped through the geology reports he ordered. His geology teams were efficient, and they understood the need for secrecy, even if they didn’t know why.

  The separate compounds that made up the Bachnian crystals were readily available on almost every planet in the Human Confederation. The problem was the way they combined through generations of incubation. So far, no one could replicate the process. They had just begun testing, so he had every confidence they would find a way soon.

  Either way, tiny crystals had been found just beneath the topsoil on three planets in the Confederation space. Galea could have been “mysteriously” destroyed—Cassius knew exactly who was behind it—but that wouldn’t stop him.

  He composed a blanket message to the geology teams on each planet.

  Begin mining operations. Quietly.

  The planets were on the other side of his territory, and he hoped to keep the Tyreesians from finding out about it. He had to act quickly, before the bastards sniffed them out.

  The crystals were good for many things. They amplified and extended most power sources. That was valuable enough, but only one thing was worth taking over an entire planet.

  A teleporter.

  He regretted Galea’s loss, but Cassius has turned into the kind of man who doesn’t cry over spilt milk. All he could do was cut his losses and move on.

  Within hours, an encrypted message came through his tablet.

  Scans have detected a large reserve of the crystal. Harvesting will be complete within twenty-four hours.

  Cassius smiled and poured himself a celebratory glass of whiskey. Though the Terran Union meddled beyond repair, he was sure to beat them in the production of a teleporter. He just had to figure out how to beat back the Tyreesians without attracting attention from the other planets.

  Cassius had planned to use Lydia and her baby as poster fodder to rally the people against the Udenar. Since Crimson was destroyed before the shuttle could launch, she was still in the custody of the Terran Union. He’d get her later, but for now a press conference where he’d give a heartfelt speech about the tragic loss of the fleet would have to suffice. It’d serve to anger the people enough to be willing to fight against the Udenar and the Tyreesians if that time came. For now, though, he kept the Tyreesian connection under wraps.

  He wanted his people pissed, not terrified.

  “Admiral Hennesy, please report to my office,” he said into the comm.

  “Right away, sir.”

  Cassius poured two glasses of whiskey and waited.

  The door slid open. Hennesy hesitated when he saw the whiskey sitting on the desk in front of his chair. He knew Cassius was about to ask him to do something else he wouldn’t like. He sat down and just looked from the glass to Cassius.

  “Admiral. I need you to send our full forces to engage the Udenar,” he said. “Only leave a bare minimum for defense.”

  “What if that’s what they're waiting for?” Hennesy grimaced and picked up his drink. After Galea’s destruction, the U
denar were probably on high alert, so the Admiral had a point on that. Still, this wasn’t the time to play safe—the Tyreesians had the Udenar scanning entire sectors, and there was no way Cassius would allow the bastards to take over another planet with Bachnian crystals.

  “It’s not. Trust me.” Cassius picked up his own glass and downed it. “Engage them with all you’ve got, but the main objective does not leave this room.”

  Hennesy sat forward, whiskey forgotten in his hand.

  “The objective is to keep them away from these sectors,” Cassius brought the star map up on his tablet, highlighting the three most promising planets.

  Hennesy took the tablet and studied it with confusion, “Why?”

  “That is need to know, Admiral. Just keep them away from those planets. And be on the lookout for Tyreesian technology.”

  Understanding spread over the Admiral’s face. “FTL mines. That’s why you ordered the FTLs shut down.”

  “Yes. Not that it did any fucking good,” he muttered. Either way, the fleet had been doomed. The teleporter production would put the Human Confederation ahead of the game. Hopefully it would make up for the wasted lives in the long run.

  “Do I share this with the Captains?”

  “Tell them you suspect the Udenar either bought or stole the technology. Nothing more.”

  “Yes, sir,” Hennesy finally gulped down his whiskey and set the glass on the desk, “Thank you for the drink.”

  He stood with a scowl. He didn’t like being in the dark when it came to the fleet’s orders, especially after being forced to shut down the FTLs. Cassius understood, which was why he divulged the Tyreesian connection. That bit of information ensured the Admiral’s loyalty.

  Cassius allowed himself a smirk as Hennesy walked out. They both knew he was a scheming asshole. Hennesy understood that he was offering up the entire fleet as bait for a cause he knew nothing about.

  He would have to either be promoted or eliminated. Either way, Cassius didn’t care—he was walking down a very specific road, and he would do anything to ensure he’d get to his destination.

  “Anything and everything…” he muttered, pouring himself another whiskey. “Every fucking thing.”

  Chapter 31

  Jeryl

  “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

  “It has,” Jeryl replied, one hand on the balcony railing, the other holding a glass half-filled with some vintage red from New Sydney. From one of the suites on the top floor, they could see how New Sydney’s capital stretched for what seemed like forever, a never ending tapestry of high-rise condos sprinkled with casinos here and there.

  Jeryl had acted on impulse when he made the reservation at The Oath—on one of the most expensive suites, especially—but he didn’t mind it. After everything that had happened in Galea and everything else before that, they needed to getaway. And what better place than The Oath, the place where they slept together for the first time?

  Back then, they never though that a one-night thing would turn into marriage. But that’s how things go, more often than not—you get caught up in the tide, and next thing you know you’re surfing a wave for the rest of your life.

  “Here.” Grabbing the bottle, Jeryl poured some red into Ashley’s glass. Then, turning his back to the New Sydney skyline, he laid down on the outdoor sofas. He couldn’t even remember the last time they had taken a vacation and, damn, it felt good.

  In fact, he could get used to it. He could already imagine himself strolling inside Flynn’s office and quitting on the spot. Oh, it’d be priceless to see the Admiral’s face; maybe Jeryl could tell him that he had found a new calling in life: farming.

  Yeah, that would go well, Jeryl thought, almost snorting. Then, he looked at Ashley; she was laying down on the couch right next to him, and she was sipping her wine while looking out into the horizon. Forget about Flynn, Jeryl mused. What would Ash think of that? Would she leave the Armada behind and start anew?

  Smiling, Jeryl just pushed all these thoughts into a dark corner of his mind. What did that matter? Jeryl wasn’t about to leave The Seeker, and he doubted that Ashley wanted it. After devoting their entire lives to the Armada, how would they walk away from it all? Whether they liked it or not, they were born for it. And, hell, they were the best around. They had ended a five-year war, fought to make the Council a reality, and after all that, even figured out a way to save an entire planet’s population while keeping Armada Intelligence happy.

  Yeah, I sure as hell deserve this drink, Jeryl thought, eyeing his bottle. Hell, maybe two of these.

  “You think they’ll be okay?” Ashley asked him, and Jeryl sat up and looked at her.

  “Who?”

  “Lydia and her son,” she replied, never taking her eyes off from the horizon, almost as if she was gazing across the galaxy and looking straight into Centralia, the heart of the Confederation.

  “They’ll be okay, I’m sure,” Jeryl merely said, lying back down again. “The Chancellor will probably take good care of them. Will probably parade them around a little bit for his gain, then set them up for life. Not a bad deal for a girl from a colony like Galea.”

  “She seemed to like it.”

  “Well, there are a lot more farming colonies in the galaxy, Ash. If she ever grows tired of Centralia, I figure she’ll be able to find a place to call home easily.”

  “But is it worth it?”

  “What is?” Now he was getting confused. What was Ashley even talking about? Maybe the wine was getting to her head.

  “I mean, she has a son. Is it worth it, raising a kid in a galaxy like ours? Just look at what happened to Galea. And the Sonali War, and—”

  “Where’s this coming from, Ash?”

  It has to be the wine, Jeryl thought, but then he glanced at Ashley’s glass and realized that she hadn’t even started drinking it. And if there was something that Ashley enjoyed, it was New Sydney vintage red. Unless that meant…

  “Holy shit,” Jeryl whispered, jumping out from his seat. He looked down at Ashley, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, and then finally knelt in front of her.

  “Don’t tell me that…that…” He didn’t even know how to say it. “Am I going to be a—”

  “Yes,” she finally admitted, her lips showing a hesitant smile. “You’re going to be a father, Jeryl.”

  “I…I don’t even know what to say,” he stammered, grabbing both her hands as he looked into her eyes.

  “Just say something,” she asked of him, running her tongue over her dry lips. “Anything at all.”

  “Well, let’s see if this helps then… Right now, I’m the happiest man in the whole galaxy, Ash,” he told her, and only when the words finally fell from between his lips did he realize that he was telling the truth.

  I’m going to be a father, he told himself, that thought sounding as foreign as the first time he ever saw an alien spaceship. Except this time, he was happy about the unexpected—more than happy, he was ecstatic.

  “You know what this calls for?” He asked her, suddenly going up to his feet.

  “What?”

  “A celebration.”

  “I shouldn’t be drinking,” she hesitated, and he just grinned at her. Leaning in, he brushed his lips against hers and took her glass out of her hands, setting it down on the small table in front of them.

  “I’m not talking about drinking,” he said, lowering his voice into a whisper, his eyes never leaving hers. “I had something else in mind.”

  Finally, she got the message.

  Moving slowly, she went up to her feet and turned on her heels. With her back turned to Jeryl, she strolled inside the bedroom and then looked back at him over her shoulder. Smiling, she grabbed one strap of her dress and pulled it down her arm, showing him one naked shoulder.

  “Then what are you waiting for?”

  Chapter 32

  Jeryl

  “The Admiral will see you now,” Flynn’s secretary said, looking at Jeryl
over the rim of her glasses. She had her hair tied up in a bun, and despite her advanced age, she still managed to look stern enough to make Jeryl sit on his chair without slouching. If she hadn’t followed a career as a secretary, Jeryl was sure that the woman would make a perfect headmaster in some uptight school.

  “Thank you, Rose,” he said as he got up, buttoning the jacket of his uniform. As he strolled inside Flynn’s office, the Admiral immediately got up from his seat behind the desk and walked around it.

  “And here he is, the Armada’s own troublemaker,” Flynn greeted him, shaking his hand firmly. “How are you holdin’ up, Jeryl?”

  “I’m doing just fine, Admiral,” Jeryl said, unable to stop a smile from creeping up on his face. “One week in New Sydney and I’m a new man.”

  “Yeah. I should go back there myself. I’m just afraid I won’t want to come back here again, you know? Gotta deal with all the pencil-pushers, every single day.”

  “I don’t envy you,” Jeryl laughed, sitting down as Flynn went back behind his desk. “I prefer to be out there, if I’m being honest. I’ve had my fair share of pencil-pushers back when I was playing at Vice-Admiral.”

  “You, Vice-Admiral? That was just a title, Jeryl. You spent half your time blowing shit up, and don’t even try to deny it,” Flynn laughed, his voice filling the whole office. “You were born to raise hell.”

  “Maybe I was, maybe I wasn’t—but I sure as hell was born to get shit done.”

  “That’s right, that’s right…but no medals this time, I’m afraid,” Flynn continued, his laughter from before vanishing as quickly as summer breeze. “Barely anyone knows of what happened in Galea, and that’s how things should continue.”

  “Wasn’t expecting any medal. Nor wouldn’t I want one. As far as I’m concerned, Armada Intelligence can keep all their fucking medals.”

  “No love lost for them, huh?”

  “What do you think? The murder of more than two hundred thousand civilians barely merits a badge, wouldn’t you say?”