Edge of Solace (A Star Too Far) (17 page)

Gratham laid a hand onto Faris’s elbow. “What did they say about the Sa’Ami, Faris?”

“Oh
, that? They blinked away, short hop, very inefficient. The
Malta
is still at the docking station. The rest of the ships are moving in.”

“Rest of the ships? More Sa’Ami?” Gratham asked.

Faris shook his head. “No, there is a UC dropship coming in with a few more ships. The rest of the fleet is heading across system.”

“The rest of the fleet?” William spat. “Does anyone on that ship speak English?”

Faris shrugged. “Maybe?”

“LT! Let’s get prepped, we’re heading upstairs.” William said. He stalked off to find another nanite patch.

“You heard the man! Reload and get a bite, we’re going for a ride,” Yamaguchi said.

William peeled the patch off his chest and stuck on a fresh one. The pain had grown as the day wore on. Thoughts ran through his mind. The fleet was back! The dropship would be filled with the rest of Yamaguchi’s
company.

Thoughts of the
Malta
came to him. He wasn’t sure if he was happy or just relieved. Captain Khan had cast him off, but it was still his assignment. There would be a ranking officer in that fleet group that could set things right.

*

The room shifted and supplies piled in. Soldiers stood in suits of power armor with mud stained legs. Marines and sailors kept a respectable distance from each other. They began to load up on the bulk cargo car.

“Excuse me,” a man
said to William.

William looked up to one of the largest men he had ever seen. The sheer bulk made the man
—no,
boy
—nearly a giant. His face held a wisp of beard. His eyes were red and bloodshot.

“Yes?”

“I want to come with.”

William cast a glance. Anabaptist.

“This is a military mission, you can enlist later,” William said.

The boys voice trembled. “My father died today.”

William looked closely at the boy. “What’s your name?”

“Abraham Yoder.”

“I’m sorry Abraham, this is no place for a civilian.”

Yamaguchi walked up with a dull clanking sound. His facemask was open. The smell of sweat poured out. “I’ve got eight suits operational. Oh hey, the kid with the axe.”

William looked to Abraham. Recognition flowed across his face. “You struck down the Sa’Ami power armor with an axe?”

Abraham nodded.

“That was his father,” Yamaguchi said to William in a low voice.

William looked back to Abraham and locked eyes. He knew what it felt like to lose a father to war. The thought of a raw civilian wasn’t something he liked. He wanted to say no, he wanted to boot him off and call an uncle. But instead
: “Corporal Klein.”

A wide shouldered Marine separated from the group and jogged over to William. He saluted and looked at the giant of a man next to him. “Sir?”

“Get Abraham set up.”

Abraham lifted his head up and stuck his chin out.

Yamaguchi stepped closer to William. Both the men watched the large Anabaptist walk with the wide-eyed corporal.

“What are you doing?”

“We need the men, we’ll take the militia up top as well. Once everything is secured we’ll let them keep a watch,” William said. “It’s not unheard of to bring in locals when a crew requires it. Hell, sometimes they impress men into a ship.” He shifted his eyes away from Yamaguchi. The answer wasn’t exactly the truth. He didn’t want to admit that he didn’t know why he let Abraham come. Something inside him saw himself years before.

The last thing they waited on was the
militia. The colorfully dressed Maronites streamed in smelling of wine and bitter liquor. Maronite celebration and mourning came with a bottle on Canaan.

Men shuffled and stood in the empty space of the elevator. Doors slid shut and the smell of mud mixed with overpowering body odor. Someone half gagged-coughed. The soldiers dropped face shields down. The sound of air purifiers running in the power armor brought jeers from the marines.

The excitement rose. The feeling of the unknown. William remembered his trip on Redmond that seemed so very similar. Then they had to assault a ship, this time they’d just have to secure it.

William thought back to Yamaguchi grumbling about the
militia. He countered that some of the Maronites were employed, working with the elevator. They were technical support as much as back up. It was their planet and some of them deserved to take a part in this.

Eyes darted out the slender window and necks craned. Everyone wanted to get a view.

William waited next to Yamaguchi and wished he just could take a nap. His eyes closed and he thought back to Redmond once again.

Fingers reflexively went to his chest. He felt the slender ration bar. He hadn’t been able to avoid hoarding food. Starvation was a constant companion even when he wasn’t hungry.

“LT,” Yamaguchi said.

William opened his eyes. They were almost there. “All you
, Yamaguchi.”

Yamaguchi nodded and slid the face mask down. The mud
-stained skull mask looked even more intimidating. “Listen up! Armor with me, everyone stay here until we sweep.”

William nodded to his
Marines and straightened himself up.

Outside the view was a
rapidly dimming whitish blue crescent of light. Darkness was coming on the ground. The station came into view.

Ragged gashes and scars gouged the length of the station. Each a dark brown streak that had moved parallel with the orientation of the station.

The
Malta
hung motionless. The hole in the hull was like a shadowed scar.

The elevator creaked to a halt and paused. A dim orange light blinked on the side control. Low atmosphere. Next to it the red light for no atmosphere was off. Compressors hummed in the rear of the capsule.

Power armor streamed forward and brought weapons to ready. The suits were mud stained and carried tufts of grass. Bits of filth and debris still clung to the edges. They seemed out of place on the almost clinically clean elevator.

“Minimum load,” Yamaguchi
said. His hands slapped the charge lever. He nodded to one of the militia.

The door opened. Cold air rushed in that smelled of apples and burnt resin. The power armor pounced out and the door closed.

William paced in front of the door and waited. The comms were mostly quiet. The soldiers said little. In a few short minutes the all clear was sounded, but with a caveat.

“LT,” Yamaguchi called. “We’re bringing suits, the
militia is going to have to do some patch work. There’s a lot of damage here.”

William relayed the information. Members of the militia stepped forward and waited for the suits.

Another delay. He wanted nothing more than to get onto the
Malta
. That was his place. That was his duty, whether the Captain wanted it or not.

The alarm sounded and one of the soldiers tossed in half a dozen maintenance suits. The door closed and the militia suited up.

“Leaks over .5 CFM first, save the little ones for later. As soon as you have a balance let us in,” William said. He looked at each of the men and they nodded nervously.

“Door’s sealed to the
Malta,
” Yamaguchi called back. “Want us to blow it?”

“Hold on
.” William yelled across the elevator. “Reed, Huron, c’mere!”

The two Mars born Engineers pushed through the crowd.

“Doors are sealed, know any tricks?”

Huron looked to Reed. Reed nodded to William.

“Get us to that airlock,” Reed said.

“And we can open it.” Huron added.

“My crew can, hold tight,” William clicked over to Yamaguchi.

The door opened once more. The maintenance crew streamed out and closed the door.

William was ready to tear his hair out when the alarm light flickered and disappeared. “Okay, here we go.”

Abraham stood and walked to the front of the pack.

“Abe. Stay with the militia.”

Abraham nodded. The plate vest he wore looked comical as both sides of his chest squeezed out. In one hand he held a boarding shield and the other a pneumatic rifle. Both looked like toys.

William was the first through the door. The smells assaulted him once more. Apples. Burnt plastic. A sooty acetylene tang made him want to sneeze.

Marines passed him and secured the area. Not that they didn’t trust the soldiers but they had their own duty.

By the time he reached the edge of the airlock, the Marines had taken up position on either side of Huron and Reed. A metal panel was slid aside. Slender wires floated out in the zero gravity. The pair of engineers were debating something.

“What’s wrong?” William asked as he glided up.

“He wants to just cut it,” Reed said.

“Well
, we’re going to have to fix it later, might as well do it right,” Huron said.

“Open the damn door,” William snapped.

Huron nodded to Reed. Reed clipped a set of wires.

“On your call
, Mr. Grace.”

“LT? You ready?” William said to Yamaguchi.

The squad moved to the door and crouched on either edge with weapons at ready.

“Wait!” Huron called out.

Yamaguchi snapped his head back. “What?”

“What if they rigged it to show there was atmosphere but there really wasn’t?” Huron
eyed the atmosphere indicator suspiciously.

“Clear the tube,” Yamaguchi ordered.

Everyone but the soldiers moved out of the tube and sealed the airlock.

William craned his neck to look out the hatch. He saw a suit, he assumed it was Yamaguchi, punch the release and the hatch popped open.

The suits surged inside of the
Malta
. The atmosphere indicator still hovered in the green.

“Hit it!” William called. “Marines go!”

The outer hatch popped open. Marines surged into the zero gravity pipe and shot through, head first. Each of the Marines tucked into a roll and landed running. Boarding in zero-g was a particular talent tuned in long training runs.

William followed with the remainder of the crew behind. The air seeping into the tunnel smelled like burning garbage met a bayou swamp. He wrinkled his nose when he passed through. “Oh god, that smell
.”

Groans sounded from behind him as the rest of the crew ran into the smell.

“LT, you better get in here,” Yamaguchi called over the comms.

“What is it?” William asked. The smell was in his mouth.

“We’ve got survivors.”

*

Grace stepped lightly through the debris strewn passage. He tucked his body sideways and pressed behind a mass of smoke blackened tubing. The thought of fixing the mess around him made his head spin. He had stopped cataloging repairs in his head—there was so much to do.

Yamaguchi told him it was breathable atmosphere but it was stuffed with chemical residues.

“I’m moving to your position, damned place is a mess. Medics are inbound.” He stopped and took in his bearing. The directions he received played back in his mind. Sections were closed off and he had to snake through the ship.

A low gravity section threw him off. His feet danced on the deck. The battle damage had taken some of the grav generators offline. Harmonics existed at certain points that made for an uncomfortable walk.

The room he entered was claustrophobic to start with, even without a dozen people packed into it. They were dirty. They were wounded. Some were dead. He paused and took it in.

The faces of the survivors were nearly indistinguishable. Soot coated their faces while eyes of broken white looked back. The shock was still evident.

William knelt down next to a small woman with a burn on one arm. The smell of the dead bodies was intense. “Hey, it’s Lieutenant Grace. It’s going to be okay.”

“Midshipman Lebeau.” She cleared her throat. “The Captain is still alive.”

He scanned around the room looking for a familiar face. Distinguishing between anyone was impossible. He hardly recognized Lebeau.

“Lebeau!” William called out.

Mullins pushed into the room and stood for a moment. Triage was written in his eyes as he took in the task. The slender medic moved to an unconscious woman and began working. “Patches! Get ‘em on everyone.”

William moved with Reed and began spreading patches around the room.
The crew had every appearance of being dumped into the room and forgotten.

“Avi.” William stood before the
Marine and knelt down. He gently smoothed a patch onto his chest.