Ghosts of the Vale Read online

  Rebirth… too strong… hardware upgrade is better. The software running the blood and gristle is still as flawed as it ever was.

  She waved at her reflection before turning away.

  Mira padded back to the stateroom. Tish stirred in her sleep. Her hair spread over the pillow, surrounding her pale face with red nebulosity.

  I want to take her home, Mira thought.

  Tish had spent her entire adult life on stations, breathing air that had been recycled more times than the water. Life in space was hard on humans; variable levels of gravity and the lack of sunlight caused muscular-skeletal defects. The absence of a true diurnal cycle was a nursery for psychosis. Mira knew little of Tish’s early life; it had been hard and she could only imagine the horrors the girl had endured. Mira wanted to save her, give her the life she deserved, the life they had both earned.

  Mira lifted the sheet gently so as not to wake Tish.

  She froze.

  The rhythm of the ship changed. Mira sensed it through the deck; the vibration through her feet altered, becoming choppy and irregular. To an experienced spacer it was a premonition, a harbinger of catastrophe, whispering an intent only understandable to those versed in the arcane language of a starship. Before she could speak the ship lurched, throwing her from her feet and knocking Tish out of bed.

  “Mira!” Tish said, no trace of sleep clouding her voice.

  “Our envelope is unstable,” Mira replied, scanning the deck for her discarded clothes. She located her synth leather jeans and pulled a black tank-top from the dresser. She ran to the door with one boot on her foot, the other in her hand. Tish was behind her in a similarly chaotic state of undress.

  The ship shook. Alarms wailed. Tish stumbled and lost her footing on the staircase. Mira reached out and grabbed her wrist before she fell.

  “They are throwing too much energy at us. We’ll break apart if we don’t drop. Bloody amateurs,” Tish said in snatched gasps.

  The flight deck lit up as they entered.

  Mira slipped into the pilot’s chair; her hands danced over multifunction holo-screens.

  “We have a high energy stream coming in on the starboard quarter. Our envelope is critical; it’s holding up… for now,” Tish reported.

  “Okay, understood. I am prepping for an emergency drop. Hold on to your butt; this will be rough.”

  “That’s what you said last night…” Tish replied.

  The overhead panel erupted. Sparks and melted components rained down on them.

  "How much energy are they throwing at us?" Tish yelled, brushing hot fragments of metal from her bare arms.

  Mira made a final system check and broke the envelope.

  The ship jolted, pitched and rolled in the energy stream. The engines gave a roar and shut down. The artificial gravity failed; loose equipment broke free and floated in the cabin. A datapad connected with Mira’s forehead. She cursed as she tried to restore control.

  The Second Chance settled into level flight. The gravity field re-instated itself and the floating objects clattered to the deck.

  Mira took a breath, held onto it and exhaled.

  “What’s our status Tish?” Mira asked, not really wanting to know.

  “Not good, our reactor is out, the sublights are offline and we are on batteries.”

  “Any good news?”

  Tish nodded.

  “Yeah, we are intact.” She typed a series of rapid-fire commands into her console. “I can bring the environmental systems online. The reactor scrammed for safety reasons; glad it didn’t do that in FTL, we’d be atoms…”

  The short-range scanner pinged with urgency.

  “No…” Tish murmured. “I am detecting an envelope, a big one… exceptionally big.”

  Mira’s mind raced; all she could think of was the giant ship Xander Rhodes had encountered in the Viola Prime system; The Juggernaut as he had called it.

  She rebooted the drive system, trying to bring the sublights to life. If she could put some distance between them and the aggressor, she might have time to fix the FTL.

  “Ship is ten thousand clicks astern. It has a Navy transponder,” Tish reported. “It’s the Valhalla.”

  “What the fuck? Are they trying to kill us?” Rage and adrenaline boiled inside her. She slammed her fist on the top of her console; it hurt like hell but did no further damage to the ship.

  “Stay calm, Mira. He is paging us.”

  “Second Chance? FSS Valhalla. I wonder if we might have a word?” Jon Flynt’s voice came over the cockpit speaker.

  “How about two, Jon? Fuck you.”

  “It’s good to hear your voice Mira…”

  “Yeah? Trust me, you’ll be hearing a lot more of it. You could have killed us! That drop was out of order. Have you read the instruction book for that bucket or do you operate it by guesswork?”

  “I’m an Admiral; I can…”

  “Just fucking don’t.” Tears of relief broke free and ran down her cheeks. She closed the link. Tish took her hand.

  “It’s okay Mira. Jono must have his reasons.”

  Mira rested her head against the seat back, calming herself. She closed her eyes and counted; she got as far as six before she opened the link. Her new body was alive with hormones and she was prone to emotional outbursts. Tish found it amusing but Mira was finding the emotional roller coaster an increasingly tiresome ride.

  “Okay, let’s hear it.”

  “Not on the open channel. Do you need a tow?” Flynt replied.

  The Second Chance shuddered into life as Tish restarted the sublights.

  “No, I have Tish and she’s fixed the problems you caused. We have systems damage so will need access to your parts bin.”

  “Take what you need. My deck officer will send you a vector to bay four.”

  She acknowledged and waited.

  A new voice came over the link. “Hey Thorny, did you miss me?”

  “Alex? Yeah in the same way I miss thrush. Where is my vector, flyboy?”

  Laughter.

  “Sending now, fly straight in. I’m so pleased it’s you, it would have been embarrassing if we dropped the wrong ship. See you soon.”

  A pip appeared on her HUD and she steered the freighter toward the giant warship.

  “It must be important Mira, for Jono to leave Mizarma and find us.”

  That was what was worried her.

  Alex Kite and Rich Barnes stood at the foot of the ramp. Mira’s mood lifted when she saw them. She tried to keep her face straight but could not keep the smile in check. She ran down the ramp to them. Alex hugged her before she turned to Barnes. The big man gathered her up in a bearlike embrace, lifting her off the ground.

  “It’s only been three weeks,” he said. “But I’m so glad to see you.”

  “Yeah, me too, especially after that stunt with the Ion Stream; what dumb fuck was operating it?”

  Alex coughed.

  “Yeah sorry, that would be me. You have a vulgar tongue, Thorny.”

  “That’s why I like her,” Tish said from behind them.

  Alex burned red and Mira could not contain a giggle. He ushered them toward the blast door on the far side of the hangar.

  “The Admiral is waiting for you in his office. We received disturbing intelligence. He wants to ask for your help,” Alex explained. “I have a crew assigned to fix your ship.”

  As he spoke a team of Navy techs passed them, their coloured overalls denoting their assignment: yellow for drive systems, red for armament and green for environmental. The crew chief gave Alex an informal salute as he passed.

  Alex led them through the dreadnought’s corridors. Mira was impressed by the fit and finish. The Valhalla was thoroughly modern; her panels unsullied by wear, her lighting bright and tuned to mimic sunlight.

  “How many crew do you have?” she asked Alex.

  “304, we can accommodate up to 400 Marines, but have…”

  “80,” Barnes interrupted. “I make up for the
other 320.”

  A short transport tube journey brought them to flight deck. Mira recognised some crew members by sight but could not recall any names.

  A young female officer gestured to Flynt’s office.

  Jon Flynt sat behind his titanium desk, tapping on a datapad. He stood up when they entered.

  Mira remembered when she had first met Flynt; she was a newly qualified flight lieutenant and he was commanding officer on Illustrious. He had changed little. His brown hair had thinned, his beard was a little greyer. He still stood straight and toned. His smile was Amy’s smile.

  Flynt glanced at Tish.

  “Has she calmed down?”

  Mira slapped him. She pulled so it was not hard enough not to leave a mark but was more than just playful.

  “Yeah, quite a lot,” Tish replied. “I had to take an iron bar off her before we came over.”

  Flynt laughed.

  “I guess I deserved that.”

  “Sorry…” Mira said. “It was dumb, Jon. We were this close to a catastrophic failure of our envelope.” She held up her finger and thumb to illustrate and emphasise her point.

  “I did it because I had to. We need your help and it was imperative we caught you before your arrival in the home system. This was the only ship capable doing it. We’re still on a shakedown cruise and our envelope disruption cannon needs calibration.”

  Mira knew Jon Flynt did nothing without a good reason, despite his reputation. Aussie Jon was many things, reckless was not one.

  “So tell me. I’m calm.”

  “You know there is a commemoration for the war taking place in two days? It is being held in the Olympus Stadium in Mariner City.”

  Mira recalled receiving an invitation. She had not RSVP’d.

  “We have firm intel that David Conway will move against the members of the Senate who oppose him, notably Vanessa Meyer. He may use former Martian Dawn operatives to carry out the attack.”

  “The Dawn are still active?”

  “In a limited capacity. We are unsure of their numbers. They have been operating out of Dome Four in Mariner for a while. The authorities keep them in their place.”

  “So what’s this got to do with me?”

  “Nothing directly. Vanessa Meyer is a vital figure in the Alliance and we need someone on the ground to get her out if things go south.”

  “Why me? You have a ship full of people here. Why not just alert local security forces? What can I do?”

  “This information comes from a source close to the Vice President. If we are seen to respond our source will be compromised and they are too useful for me to let that happen.”

  “I was going home, Jon.”

  Tish took Mira’s hand.

  “We can do it, Mira. If nothing happens we go home anyway and if it does we save Vanessa and make sure Jono’s spy stays safe. Let’s be heroes, just for a day.”

  Tish was right but there were too many other questions. What was Martian Dawn planning? How could they execute a rescue?

  “So why me?”

  “You won’t raise any suspicions. You are invited to the ceremony and you are still an Officer of the Federal Navy. Conway will assume you were doing your duty by responding to the situation.”

  “I resigned.”

  Mira had folded her commission after the battle of Mizarma. Flynt told her he would take care of the paperwork.

  He shuffled in his chair, pausing before replying.

  “I did you a favour. Ending a commission requires you to report to Fleet Ops in Seattle and takes six months to process. I made you a reservist. No one ever has a reserve commission activated; it’s the same deal but without the paperwork.”

  “You have a peculiar definition of a favour, Jon,” Mira replied.

  He looked past Mira toward Alex.

  “Tish,” Alex said. “Can I show you round the ship? Our crew will be working on your Kobo; they might need your help.”

  She glanced at Mira with a look that said, are you okay?

  Mira nodded. Alex ushered Tish toward the door.

  “Subtle.”

  Flynt shrugged. It was an indifferent gesture.

  “You and Tish… is it serious?”

  Mira studied him.

  “I’m not sure what that means… but yeah, I have feelings. I think she does too.”

  He gazed at her over steepled fingers.

  “It’s why I quit, Jon,” she said in a hushed voice. “I want to spend my life doing normal things… drink beer in the sun, wake up with someone who cares. You know, the everyday shit most people take for granted.”

  “That’s what we fight for Mira, to protect what we have and those we love.”

  Mira drew a breath. She held it, trying to prevent growing frustration from igniting into anger.

  “Bullshit, Jon. You know it is. It’s the line the politicians spin us when they send us to war. How many people have died for that lie? How many of those lost lives changed anything? You know what Amy used to call war… you remember? Youthenasia.”

  Flynt rubbed his eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t know you felt so strongly… I guess it should not surprise me.”

  Mira blinked, her eyes damp. She did not want to give Flynt her tears; she took a breath and steadied herself.

  She stared over his shoulder, reluctant to make eye contact. The Navy Crest hung from the wall behind him. The emblem of a sword inside a shield with the words Service Before Self arched above it in a scrolled banner.

  That damn oath… I swore protect the citizens of the Federation. I took responsibility for the safety of others; they depend on me. Just like Rich, Alex, Monica and Ethan did.

  She thought of the visions of destruction masquerading as dreams.

  This is not about ideology, territory or politics. It’s about survival.

  The silence stretched, becoming awkward.

  “I’ll do it,” she whispered. It was barely audible. “I’ll do it,” she repeated, stronger and more committed.

  Flynt’s lip twitched.

  “Thank you, Mira. Given the timing we have no other options,” he said. The relief etched onto his face and evident in his tone.

  “When we’re done, we’re done. Game over. I’m out,” she said. “Tell me what I need to know.”

  “We know David Conway met with Max Von Hagen four weeks ago; we don’t know what they discussed. My source tells me Conway requested a D37 field kit to be loaded on to his ship before the meeting on Mars.”

  “So the Dawn have some armament. I’m sure they could have got that anywhere.”

  “Conway also issued a movement order for a Commander Harry Young. Young is a former special forces operator; he died in the Vale, nine years ago.” He paused. “Whoever is using Young’s identity will have full access to the ceremony.”

  Mira leant forward, teetering on the lip of the chair.

  “That’s all you have?” she asked.

  “Meyer opposes Conway; aside from the Alliance she is a constant irritant to him. Meyer and Hofner’s faction control enough of the Senate to block the legislation he wants to pass. The Navy bill was a prime example. There was an attempt on Meyer’s life after she came out on Admiral Foster’s side. I had my team run some options and we believe Martian Dawn will stage a small-scale disturbance; allowing Conway’s agents to move against his opposition.”

  It was simple. Martian Dawn no longer had the forces to stage a coup but disrupting the ceremony would send a message to the Federation.

  “An assassination will look like collateral damage, no connection to the VP...” Mira replied.

  “Why would the leadership of Martian Dawn collude with an Earth politician, especially Meyer? She is sympathetic to their cause.”

  “It depends what he has offered them. Conway has eyes on the Presidency. There is an election in two years. He has often talked about devolving power to Mars… it’s all speculation. He has a reputation for playing the long game.”<
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  Mira decided she did not need to know.

  “You know I’m not trained for this? I’m a pilot, not Special Ops.”

  The tension between them eased.

  “I’m sending Rich Barnes with you. He’ll provide extra support.”

  Mira gradually came to terms with the idea. It made sense. Her presence would not arouse suspicion and Rich Barnes would have her back. The plan was light on detail but had the potential to work.

  Flynt reached into a drawer and produced two boxes. They were covered in blue velvet with gold trim. He pushed them over the desk.

  “You’ll need these.”

  Mira took the first with trembling hands and flicked it open. The small box contained the Star of Terra, resting on a silk pillow. She opened the second, it held the Martian Heart.

  Mira choked. She had no words. The last time she had seen her medals was in the apartment back in Seattle. At the time she’d viewed them as pointless trinkets. She carried scars to remind her of the war and did not need trophies. When Amy had sold them she had barely cared, but as time passed Mira had learned what the medals signified. They recognised the sacrifices made by her and those she fought alongside; they commemorated those who had come home, and those who remained.

  She checked the back of the Martian Heart; the hologram confirmed it as hers.

  Mira blinked back a tear.

  Flynt regarded her with a cool look of satisfaction.

  “The pawnbroker Amy used recognised them for what they were. He knew Amy had not earned them and had no right to sell them. He called me up at Fleet Ops and sold them back for what he paid for them.” He paused. “I wanted to return them for years but Monica was worried they carried too many bad memories.”

  Mira stood with such force the chair clanged onto the deck. She ran to the other side of the desk and put her arms around his neck.

  “Thank you. I’m sorry I was a pain in the arse when I came aboard.” She kissed his cheek and held him for a moment.

  He smiled in a fatherly, understanding way, a faint blush in his cheeks. “Mira, never change.”

  Mira picked up the chair. Sitting, she stole another glance at the Martian Heart, the carved ruby glinting under the lights. She snapped the box closed and blinked.

  The silence between them became comfortable.