“We thought it was a fitting tribute,” Iana said, pointing at the newly renamed fighter.
Where previously the words Duun Nathur had been painted on the side of the black fighter, they were now replaced with bright white letters reading Duun Riddell, Keryn’s last name.
“I’m speechless,” Yen said, running his fingers along the letters of her name.
“Quit screwing around and be speechless during your pre-flight checks,” Iana replied as the two walked toward the exit to the hangar. “You’ll be late for your own suicide mission if you don’t.”
Before they reached the door, they turned around once more. “We left you another present in your computer files to watch when you get bored hanging out there in space all alone,” Gregario yelled, his deep voice carrying across the cavernous room.
As they left the room, Yen slid his helmet over his head and climbed into the cockpit, automatically closing the hatch behind him. He checked the series of lights on the display in front of him as he started up the ignition process. The smaller engines on the back of the ship pushed the fighter out of its cubicle as it taxied into the middle of the room. Turning the ship, Yen faced toward the enormous bay doors that sealed the far end of the room.
“Captain, this is Squadcom,” he said into his attached microphone. “I am in position and ready for launch.”
“Good luck, Commander,” she replied, her voice taking a digital tone through the speakers in his cockpit. “We are depressurizing the hangar now and preparing to open the bay doors. Keep in contact with us during your flight to ensure we have good communication.”
“Roger that, ma’am. Open the bay doors when ready.”
The hissing filled the room as they vented the breathable air in the room and matched the pressure of space beyond the bay doors. When the hissing stopped, Yen lifted the safeguard on his main engine ignition switch and watched the end of the runway. Slowly, the bay doors slid apart, the stars twinkling into existence in the gap between. When the doors were open slightly wider than the length of his wingspan, a green light lit up on his display and he threw the switch.
The ignition of the main rocket threw his head back against the cushioned headrest, which conformed to support his head and neck from injury during the intense acceleration. As he passed through the doors and exited into open space, Yen pulled back on the controls and circled around the Revolution, falling into place just above the rear of the ship.
“I am clear of the ship and in position,” Yen said, his message being relayed to the bridge.
“Good to hear, Commander,” the Captain replied. “Stay in contact as we approach the planet.”
CHAPTER 29:
Keryn spent the next few days bedridden in the infirmary as a cocktail of quick-healing chemicals and enzymes coursed through her system, repairing the broken rib, damaged knee, and internal injuries. Adam had been in the bed next to her on the first day as the superficial wounds on his leg healed, but by day two he was up and moving, though he still spent a significant amount of time at her bedside. He held her hand, caressing it gently and lending support as she went through the more painful stages of her rehabilitation. Though his words were comforting, it was the information he brought that was more valuable.
“Alcent has established a ruling council for the ship,” Adam explained to her on the second day as she lay in bed. Sweat beaded on her brow as the chemicals coursed through her system, setting fire to her nerves. Her body tense from the pain, she maintained a crushing grip on his hand.
“And what…” she began through clenched teeth. Her breathing was labored, making speech painful in between gasps of air. “What does he intend to do with this council?”
Adam shrugged. “The council has yet to meet because they’re waiting for you.”
“Me?” Keryn asked, surprised. “Why does he want me?”
“They want both of us,” Adam explained. “We’re seen as beacons of the hard-earned freedom from Miller’s Glen. They don’t just want diplomats on the council; people who will get bogged down in the bureaucratic double speak that everyone is already too familiar with. What they want are people of action, and they can’t think of two people who epitomize action better than you and me.”
“And I’m assuming Alcent is on the council?”
Adam nodded, knowing what she was insinuating. “Yes, he’s on the council. Yes, it’s a position of power, which is more than a little self-serving for Alcent. But I think he’s doing the right thing.”
Keryn glowered at him. “’The right thing’? Alcent doesn’t know the meaning of that phrase.”
Shrugging, Adam explained. “A lot of people have questions right now, questions that aren’t readily available. They want to know where we’re going and why. People are afraid. Just because we’ve escaped the planet doesn’t mean we’re free yet. We still don’t know how long we’ll be able to fly before we encounter another Terran Destroyer.”
Keryn squeezed her eyes shut as frustration rolled through her body. “Haven’t we started going through the computer?”
“We have,” Adam said, sighing. “We have, but what we found isn’t very promising.” He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “There’s a lot of information and only a few people capable of working the systems. It’ll take time to sort through all the data.”
Standing, Adam stroked her hair and gave her a warm smile. “I’ll come back and visit you later. Get feeling better.” Keryn smiled as warmly as her body would allow before Adam turned and left the infirmary. Once he was out of sight, the smile faded from her lips. Though her body would heal, she wasn’t sure she would be feeling better about their situation any time soon. Even if she chose to ignore the fact that she was taking a group of emotionally and physically defeated survivors to a planet that guaranteed further violence between them and the Terrans, she still had to worry about the devious loyalties of Alcent. The Uligart had loyalties that extended only as far as his own financial or physical well-being. Alcent had been a good ally of opportunity when she needed help on Othus, but she didn’t think him trustworthy enough to lead a council who would make decisions that would benefit an entire ship worth of survivors. Then again he was a smuggler, a profession that based its existence on deceit and lies. Maybe that made him the most qualified politician out of the entire group.
Later in the day, Keryn was able to get out of bed and move freely around the ship. She was grateful for her freedom. Though Adam’s presence was soothing, when he wasn’t around she was left only with the company of the Voice, whose lack of patience was only surpassed by her own. Too many days of bed rest resulted in sniping comments both inside her mind and directed at anyone unfortunate enough to walk by her bed. When she left the infirmary, the nursing staff was glad to see her go.
Adam walked by her side as they made their way toward the bridge. Her rib had healed as had the injured knee, but the increased gravity from the deep space travel still took its toll on her body. They paused often, usually at the base or top of stairwells, which allowed Keryn to view the damage to the ship.
The Terrans had manned the ship with only a skeleton crew, but they had put up a significant fight as the revolutionaries hunted them throughout the corridors. Holes and scars marred the once pristinely painted walls. Near the base of the closest set of stairs, the tiles were cracked and loose and the walls around were charred and black, signs of exchanged grenades between the two forces. If they intended to remain in the Ballistae, there would need to be a significant amount of work done. First and foremost would be removing the gold and blue runners that were painted along all the hallways of the ship, constant reminders of the Terran Empire.
As the pair approached the bridge, a man wearing a dirty jacket approached them both.