Part 24 (2/2)
”I will,” said Inyx, the top half of his body still parallel with the floor.
Hernandez stepped forward. ”Can we play the blame game later, please?” Inyx straightened and looked back at her in surprise, and Ordemo seemed taken aback by her tone. ”We need to act quickly if you want to stop this from getting worse.”
Ordemo's contempt was bilious. ”What do you propose?”
”Let me talk to them,” Hernandez said. ”Now.”
”That seems ill-advised.”
She gritted her teeth and sighed to dispel the swell of anger in her voice. ”They're manipulating you,” she said. ”You're not used to dealing with strangers, so your people told us anything we wanted to know. My men are using that knowledge to make you help them. You don't understand us well enough to put an end to this. But I do. Stop cooperating with them and open a channel, and I'll try to end this.”
Ordemo replied, ”I find it difficult to believe you are so concerned with our well-being.”
”You're right,” Hernandez admitted. ”I'm not. But I know how seriously you take your privacy, and I have a good idea what you'll have to do to my homeworld if I don't put a stop to this. I like Earth where it is. I'd rather not see it displaced.”
Inyx interjected, ”She sounds sincere, Ordemo.”
Hernandez got the impression that Inyx's support did little to bolster her position with the tanwa-seynorral. Regardless, a few seconds later Ordemo turned toward the image of the ongoing hostage situation and declared, ”Your people in Mantilis can hear you now, Captain.”
She surveyed the scene, noted that Foyle and Yacavino were both absent, and surmised that the two MACO officers had likely already beamed up to the Columbia. Technically, Graylock was the ranking officer on the scene, but the one in charge was obviously Sergeant Pembleton. He was in command of the MACOs, and the one who she would have to negotiate with. ”Sergeant,” she snapped, ”this is Captain Hernandez. Stand down.”
Pembleton looked up and around until he obviously found a screen near him that was displaying the captain's face. ”I'm sorry, Captain. I can't do that.”
”Yes you can, Pembleton. Ask your men if you're still in contact with the Columbia.” She waited while he looked to Private Mazzetti, who fiddled for several seconds with a communicator, then shook his head and frowned at his sergeant. Hernandez continued, ”The scattering field's back up, isn't it? Take my word for it, Sergeant: The Columbia's not breaking orbit today. You've failed. Tell Private Steinhauer to let Thayer go.”
He seemed ready to falter, just for a moment, and then he lifted his weapon to his shoulder and pointed it at Thayer. ”No, Captain. Major Foyle's orders were clear.”
”What did the major order you to do?” she asked.
”Whatever I had to,” Pembleton said. ”As long as I secured the Caeliar's cooperation.”
Hernandez found it telling that Pembleton was reluctant to elaborate on Foyle's orders. She suspected that part of him regretted what he was doing. His hesitation and general unease told her he was rationalizing his way through this mess. ”So,” she said, ”you were prepared to wound Thayer. But are you ready to kill her? Because she's bleeding out, you know. A wound like that's fatal if it's not treated.”
”We'll treat her as soon as we reach the s.h.i.+p,” he said.
”But you're not going to reach the s.h.i.+p, Sergeant. And neither is she. So you might as well kill her now, and let her death be quick instead of drawing it out like this.”
Ordemo interrupted, indignant, ”Captain, we cannot permit your sergeant to-” A vicious glare from Hernandez quelled his protest, and the tanwa-seynorral cast a long, silent look at Inyx, who responded with his own icy stare of reproof.
Pembleton intensified his focus on Thayer as he said to Hernandez, ”Don't bother trying to bluff me, Captain. I'll do what I have to. I'm going home. I'm gonna see my boys again.”
”No, you're not, Gage. I've asked the Caeliar not to cooperate with your demands. But I can't stand here and watch Kiona's life drain away like this. Let me make it easier for you. This is an order, Sergeant: Kill Lieutenant Thayer.”
He looked perplexed. ”Sir?”
”You heard me, Sergeant. Kill her. When she's dead, you've got nothing left. You can't kill Graylock, you need him to help the s.h.i.+p make the trip through the subs.p.a.ce tunnel. I don't think you and your men are ready to start killing one another. That makes Kiona your only p.a.w.n. So let's just end the game here, shall we? Kill her.” Hernandez waited a few seconds. When, by the end of that interval, Pembleton had done nothing, she feigned disgust. ”Fine, pa.s.s the buck, Sergeant. Private Steinhauer: Cut the lieutenant's throat. That's an order.”
Only now did Hernandez notice that the din of the Caeliar had faded to silence and that a tense silence hung over the Quorum as everyone waited for the reaction to her stratagem.
Steinhauer removed the blade from Thayer's throat, dropped it on the ground, and sank to a sitting position on the floor. Without him to hold her torso upright, Thayer collapsed onto her back. Pembleton, sensing the surrender of his men, lowered his weapon and pulled his hand over his face, wiping away sweat, grime, and fatigue. In the background, Graylock leaned against one of the machines and covered his eyes with one hand.
”Private Mazzetti,” Hernandez said, ”get a first-aid kit and start treating Lieutenant Thayer's wound. We'll get the doctor to you as soon as we can.”
”Aye, Captain,” said Mazzetti, who took off his backpack, opened it, and removed the first-aid kit. He jogged over to Thayer and started taking steps to stanch her bleeding.
One of the Caeliar scientists in the Mantilis facility neared the comm interlink and addressed the Quorum. ”It will take time to dissolve the temporally s.h.i.+fted subs.p.a.ce aperture,” she said. ”The Earth s.h.i.+p should be restrained until the phenomenon has been disincorporated.”
”Understood,” said Ordemo. ”Proceed with haste, Sedin.” The ma.s.sive silver screen vanished, leaving a faint mist that lingered in the air like a rain shadow. Ordemo looked down at the visitors and said, ”Inyx, see the humans' physician to their wounded comrade in Mantilis.”
Hernandez cut in, ”One thing first: Let me talk to my s.h.i.+p. I need to have a few words with Major Foyle.”
Foyle didn't seem to care that he was making a scene on the bridge. ”I'm not interested in excuses, I want answers!”
Lieutenant Commander el-Rashad, the nominal commanding officer of the s.h.i.+p, shoved past Foyle on his way to the science console, which had once been his regular station. Punching b.u.t.tons to skim several screens of data, he said, ”If I had answers for you, Major, I'd give them to you. But all we know right now is that the scattering field is back, and we can't get a transporter lock.”
”What about the subs.p.a.ce tunnel?” Foyle asked, pointing at the image of the dazzling pa.s.sage on the main viewer.
”Stable,” said el-Rashad, who lurched away from the science console to join Ensign Oliveira at the communications panel. ”For now.” To the ensign he added, ”Patch in the boosters. Maybe there's a lingering frequency gap we can exploit.”
The major stayed close behind el-Rashad, who was quickly tiring of his irate shadow. ”We should go now,” Foyle said, ”while we still can.”
”That wasn't the plan,” el-Rashad said. ”We've already lost the captain and the XO, I'm not leaving any more of our-” He was interrupted by the beeping alert of an incoming comm signal. ”Oliveira, report,” he said, moving back to the command chair.
Oliveira made some quick adjustments on her panel. ”Signal from the planet's surface, sir.”
”On-screen.”
The image of the subs.p.a.ce tunnel was replaced by the faces of Captain Hernandez and Commander Fletcher, who stood with Ensign Valerian and Dr. Metzger inside a huge, ornate chamber. ”Mister el-Rashad,” said Hernandez. ”Nice to see you again.”
”Likewise, Captain,” el-Rashad said, confused at seeing his commanding officer and XO alive after receiving Foyle's report of their demise. ”What are your orders?”
”Don't take the s.h.i.+p into the subs.p.a.ce tunnel, Kalil. If you do, the Caeliar will have to retaliate against Earth, and I can't allow that. Understood?”
El-Rashad nodded. ”Aye, Captain.” He felt the two MACO officers on the bridge staring at him, their malice a tangible presence. ”Captain,” he began, uncertain how to phrase the next part of his report, ”Major Foyle...”
”Ah, yes,” said Hernandez with a sinister grin. ”Major Foyle. He and Lieutenant Yacavino are charged with mutiny, conspiracy, a.s.sault on a superior officer, a.s.sault on flight officers, and the attempted murder of Lieutenant Kiona Thayer. And tack on disobeying the orders of a superior officer.”
”Aye, sir,” said el-Rashad, his resolve galvanized by the captain's surety. He turned to his acting XO. ”Mister Hexter, place Major Foyle and Lieutenant Yacavino under arrest. Ensign Siguenza, help the XO take our prisoners to the brig.” Siguenza drew her sidearm and faced Foyle and Yacavino. It was a testament to the two MACOs' respect for military tradition that they showed no sign of resistance. Both men surrendered their sidearms with care to the XO, who directed them with a nod into a waiting turbolift.
After they had departed, el-Rashad felt a moment's regret that the plan to go home and erase the Columbia's lost years would have to be abandoned. Then he cast aside those selfish desires and reminded himself that this was the captain's call to make, not his. The Columbia was her s.h.i.+p; he was just watching over it until she came back. ”Sir?” he said, easing into his question. ”We're running low on provisions up here. Is there any chance the Caeliar might let us settle on the planet's surface if we stay out of their cities?”
Hernandez sighed. ”I don't know, Kalil. That's a ver-”
The signal went dead.
Then something hammered the Columbia, and el-Rashad realized that the s.h.i.+p's near-empty galley had just become the least of his problems.
<script>