Kira was in Control when it happened, but even there, she heard a loud “Fuck!” echoing up from the injured Marines in sickbay.
She stared with dismay at the holo of the system—at the blinking red dot that marked the last location of the Darmstadt. All those people, dead because of her. The sense of guilt was overwhelming.
Falconi must have seen something of it on her face, because he said, “There’s nothing we could have done.”
Perhaps not, but that didn’t make Kira feel any better.
Tschetter contacted them almost immediately. “Captain Falconi, the Jellies with me will continue to provide you with as much cover as possible. We can’t guarantee your safety, though, so I’d advise maintaining your current burn.”
“Roger that,” said Falconi. “What sort of shape are your ships in?”
“Don’t worry about us, Captain. Just get back to the League in one piece. We’ll take care of the rest. Over.”
In the holo, Kira saw the three friendly Jelly ships darting in and around the larger conflict. Only four of the hostile Jelly ships remained, and most of the nightmares’ had been disabled or destroyed, but those last few were still fighting, still dangerous.
“Gregorovich,” said Falconi. “Crank us up another quarter g.”
“Captain,” said Hwa-jung in a warning tone. “The repairs may not hold.”
He looked at her with a steady gaze. “I trust you, Song. The repairs will hold.”
Gregorovich cleared his simulated throat, then, and said, “Increasing thrust, O Captain, my Captain.”
And Kira felt the weight of her limbs increase yet again. She sank into the nearest chair and sighed as the cushioning took some of the pressure off her bones. Even with the help of the Soft Blade, the extra thrust was far from pleasurable. Just breathing took noticeable effort.
“How much time does that save us?” Falconi asked.
“Twenty minutes,” said Gregorovich.
Falconi grimaced. “It’ll have to do.” His shoulders were hunched under the force of the heavy burn, and the skin on his face sagged, making him look older than he was.
Then Nielsen, who was on the other side of the holo, said, “What are we going to do about the Marines?”
“Is there a problem?” Kira asked.
Falconi lay back in his own chair, allowing it to support him. “We don’t have enough cryo tubes for everyone. We’re four short. And we sure as hell don’t have the supplies to keep anyone awake and kicking all the way back to the League.”
Apprehension formed in Kira as she remembered her time without food on the Valkyrie. “So what then?”
An evil gleam appeared in Falconi’s eye. “We ask for volunteers, that’s what. If the Jelly could put Trig into stasis, then it can wrap up the Marines. Doesn’t seem to have hurt Tschetter.”
Kira exhaled forcefully. “Hawes and his men aren’t going to like that, not one bit.”
Falconi chuckled, but beneath it, he was still deadly serious. “Tough. Beats having to take a walk out an airlock. I’ll let you inform them, Audrey. Less of a chance they’ll punch a woman.”
“Gee, thanks,” said Nielsen with a wry expression. But she didn’t complain any further as she carefully pushed herself out of her seat and headed down to the hold.
“Now what?” Kira asked once the first officer was gone.
“Now, we wait,” said Falconi.
CHAPTER VIII. SINS OF THE PRESENT
1.
The day had started early. One by one the crew, the Entropists, and the Marines still able to walk gathered in the galley. With so many people present, the room was cramped, but no one seemed to mind.
Hwa-jung and Vishal took it upon themselves to heat and serve food to everyone. Despite the ration bars she’d consumed earlier, Kira didn’t refuse the bowl of rehydrated stew when it was pushed into her one remaining hand.
She sat on the floor in a corner, with her back propped against the wall. At 2.25 g’s, it was by far the most comfortable option, despite how much effort it took to get up or down. There, she ate while watching and listening to the others.
On each table, a holo displayed a live view of the ships behind them. The projections were the main focus of attention; everyone wanted to see what was happening.
The Jellies and the nightmares were still skirmishing. Some had fled to planet c or b and were currently chasing each other through the fringes of the atmosphere, while another group—three ships in total—were diving around the star, Bughunt.
“Looks like they still think they have plenty of time to catch us before we go FTL,” said Lt. Hawes. He was red-eyed and grim; all the Marines were. The losses they’d suffered during the escape from the planet, as well as the destruction of the Darmstadt, had left them looking hollow and withdrawn, shattered.
Kira thought it was an accurate representation of how everyone on the ship felt.
“Fingers crossed they don’t change their minds,” said Falconi.
Hawes grunted. Then he looked at Kira. “Once you’re up for it, we need to talk with the Jelly. This is the first chance we’ve had to communicate with one of them. The brass back home is going to want every bit of intel we can squeeze out of that thing. We’ve been fighting in the dark until now. It’d be nice to have some answers.”
“Can we do it tomorrow?” said Kira. “I’m wiped, and it won’t make any difference if we can’t escape first.”
The lieutenant rubbed his face and sighed. He seemed even more exhausted than her. “Yeah, sure. But let’s not put it off any longer.”
While they waited, Kira withdrew deeper and deeper into herself, as if she were retreating into a shell. She couldn’t stop thinking about what she’d learned about the nightmares. She was responsible for creating them. It had been her own misguided choices, her own fear and anger that had led to the birth of the monstrosities currently running rampant among the stars.
Even though Kira knew that, logically, she couldn’t be blamed for the actions of what the humanoid nightmare had called the Maw—the twisted, mutated fusion of Dr. Carr, the Jelly, and the damaged parts of the Soft Blade—it didn’t change how she felt. Emotion trumped logic; the thought of everyone who had been killed in the conflict between humans, Jellies, and the nightmares made her heart ache with a dull, soul-crushing pain that the Soft Blade could do nothing to alleviate.
She felt as if she’d been poisoned.
The Marines ate quickly and soon returned to the hold to oversee preparations for the transition to FTL. The Entropists and the crew of the Wallfish lingered about the holos, quiet save for the occasional murmured comment.
At one point, Hwa-jung said in her blunt way, “I miss Trig.” To that, they could only nod and express their agreement.
Partway through the meal, Vishal looked over at Falconi and said, “Is there enough salt for you, Captain?”
Falconi gave a thumbs-up. “Perfect, Doc. Thanks.”
“Yeah, but what’s with all the carrots?” said Sparrow. She lifted a spoon piled high with orange disks. “Always seems like you put in an extra bag or something.”
“They’re good for you,” said Vishal. “Besides, I like them.”
Sparrow smirked. “Oh, I know you do. Bet you keep carrots hidden in sickbay to snack on when you’re hungry. Just like a rabbit.” And she made a nibbling motion with her teeth. “Drawers and drawers full of carrots. Red ones, yellow ones, purple ones, you—”
A flush darkened Vishal’s cheeks, and he put his spoon down with a loud clack. Kira and everyone else looked. “Ms. Sparrow,” he said, and there was an uncharacteristic note of anger in his voice. “Always you have been, as you put it, ‘riding my ass.’ And because Trig admired you so much, he did the same.”