Cain smiled, almost a laugh and made a motion with his arm. “After you, my friend.” They scrambled down the hall and back into the shuttle. In five minutes they easing away from the station’s docking cradle; ten minutes later they were stopped 50 kilometers away, waiting for the explosion.
“Well, if the other two teams take out their targets, we’ll have bought Admiral Compton some time.” There were three warp gates in the system; if all the Commnet stations were destroyed, Eta Cassiopeiae would be cut off. Cain sounded energetic. The overall situation was bad, no question about that, but finally he felt they were doing something about it. He’d faced bleak prospects before, but as long as they were fighting, he felt they could prevail. He’d hated sitting around in meaningless postings, passively watching things deteriorate around him. Now his blood was up. “Let’s see Governor…” – he drew out the word governor in a mocking and sarcastic way – “…Cooper get a message through with no Commnet. He grinned malevolently.
Jax smiled but didn’t answer. Erik Cain was a fighter in every fiber of his being, and he’d face any challenge without hesitation - damn the consequences. Jax was more measured, more cautious by nature. But he also hoped that taking out the stations bought Compton some time, because they all knew what would happen if Cooper could get a message through to the Garret imposter.
Terrance Compton was a well-loved admiral and one of the great heroes of the last war. But Augustus Garret was a legend, the very heart and soul of the navy. If the imposter issued a fleetwide order relieving Compton, Jax didn’t see how the admiral could maintain control of the fleet. At the very least, the formation would splinter, with some ships supporting Compton and others Garret. It would be a disaster.
Their own prospects looked no better than Compton’s. They were bound for the rally point on Armstrong, and from there to different destinations. Jax and Sarah would be returning to Columbia, dropping onto that planet with a small strikeforce and a tiny medical team. They’d be joining a rebellion that had so far done remarkably well, but now faced overwhelming federal strength. The outlook was bleak, even with the help Jax and Sarah would bring – aid they were providing to the planet to fight other federal authorities. They would all be strictly on their own, and defeat would probably mean court martial and execution…not just for them, but for all those they led there.
General Holm was going to Terra Nova for a showdown with General Samuels. In the best case, his act was an insubordinate one. But if Samuels was truly under some external pressure, Holm could be walking right into a firestorm. Jax was at least taking 500 combat veterans with him; Holm would be alone except for a few aides.
Erik Cain was going into the darkest place of all, taking a handful of volunteers to Earth, to the capital of the Alliance, to sneak into the most heavily guarded building in the entire human-occupied universe…and then escape. It was crazy on every level, but it was necessary, and that was all Cain had to know. Jax, Sarah, Holm…they were all horribly worried, distraught at seeing him go on what they saw as a suicide mission. But Cain was calm, almost cheerful. Finally, he was doing something…something that could make a difference. He knew it would be tough, but it was absolutely vital. He’d see it done. Somehow.
Harrigan prowled around Yorktown’s flight deck. The ship was on condition green, and the entire area was eerily quiet, the only activity around a single ship. The shuttle set to launch had not been on the schedule, not until Harrigan added it. His position made it relatively easy to arrange an inter-ship personnel transfer and, along with it, a shuttle launch to ferry an officer to her new posting. The shuttle’s flight program was simple – a routine trip to the cruiser Boston to deliver one officer. Unknown to the pilot, its real destination was quite different, and there was going to be one extra passenger.
“Ensign Jorgans reporting, sir.” Jorgans was tall and young, fresh out of the Academy, though she was a bit older than most of her classmates, having spent three years in training for Alliance Intelligence before going into deep cover, first as a naval cadet and now a serving officer.
“Very well, Jorgans.” Lieutenant Lyle Baum wasn’t much older than Jorgans, maybe three or four years. His own lieutenant’s insignia was still shiny and new. “Go get strapped in. We launch in fourteen minutes.”
Jorgans nodded. She walked up the metal ramp, carrying a large, overstuffed duffle bag. The automated security system would analyze everything coming onboard, so there was nothing in the bag but uniforms and personal effects – just what an officer would bring along to her new assignment. She chanced a quick look over her shoulder. Good she, thought, he’s looking at my ass. Distraction would be helpful on this mission.
Lieutenant.” Harrigan stepped out of the shadows, startling the young pilot just as he was enjoying the view of Jorgens’ backside climbing up the ramp.
Baum was startled, but he snapped to attention. “Sir!” He gave Harrigan a textbook salute.
“I’ll be hitching a ride, lieutenant.” Harrigan spoke matter-of-factly though, in fact, this was a critical point in his mission.
“Um…you’re not on the manifest, sir.” Baum was nervous, unsure what to do. Regulations required him to clear any unscheduled passengers with central control. But Harrigan was a full commander, and to a junior lieutenant three years out of the Academy he might as well have been Zeus coming down from Olympus.
“I decided to make the trip at the last minute.” Don’t give him room to argue, Harrigan thought. “Now let’s go or we’ll miss our launch time.” He paused slightly then added, “Don’t worry. I note your attention to procedure and authorize the change when we get back.”
Technically, Harrigan didn’t have the authority to approve the change unless he was in the control center on duty. But that wasn’t a fine point Baum was prepared to argue with the commander. “Yes, sir. Please get strapped in.” He swallowed hard. “Sir.”
Harrigan climbed up the ramp, flashing a silent look at Jorgens and taking a seat. The shuttle was capable of fairly rapid acceleration, and the couches were designed to allow human occupants to survive potentially lethal g forces. The scheduled inter-ship transit would not be utilizing any high-G acceleration, so the accompanying pressure suits were stowed unused in a large locker.
They sat quietly for a few minutes, firmly strapped into their couches. “Secure for launch in ten seconds.” Baum’s voice came over the general comm system. “Five, four, three, two, one…”
They were pressed into their couches as the Yorktown’s magnetic catapult launched them out at 3g. A few seconds later, the shuttle’s engine engaged, and began a short burn to build velocity toward the Boston. Harrigan had chosen the target ship well; the Boston was on picket duty, on the far end of the fleet deployment zone. The shuttle would take two hours to reach its destination, giving him some time before any alarm was sounded.
“We’re at 1g acceleration now, so it should be pretty comfortable if you want to unstrap and walk around.” Baum’s voice on the comm system again.
Jorgens looked over at Harrigan, and he nodded without a sound. She unstrapped herself and walked forward, toward the cockpit. She ran her hands over her uniform, smoothing it out the best she could. Naval attire wasn’t designed to aid seduction, but she managed to look pretty good in spite of the utilitarian cut of her uniform.
She pressed the button to open the hatch and walked through. “Do you mind if I come up here for a while?” The hatch made a whooshing sound as it closed behind her. “The commander makes me nervous.” She walked up right behind him.
He smiled and turned to face her. “Not at all. He’d make me nerv…”
She moved so quickly he didn’t have time to react at all. Her arms flashed around his head and he jerked forward and fell out of his chair to the floor. His body twitched a few times, but he was already dead, his neck cleanly broken. She dragged the corpse away from the pilot’s chair, just as the hatch opened and Harrigan came through.