rest of us,” Twingo said sourly. “Another thing I just thought of … who is giving the orders right now? That little scene in the antechamber between Crusher and Lucky was a bit tense. Crusher holds a very high position here, but you’re the captain of our merry little band … so who’s in charge here on Restaria?”
“I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought or worried about it,” Jason said, getting up from his chair. “Get some sleep, buddy. I have a feeling the next few days are going to suck.”
*****
“Jason … how in the six hells do you get yourself wrapped up into these situations?” Kellea Colleren asked in a pained voice.
“You guys have six hells? We have one. Or nine, depending on who you ask,” Jason said. “Although—”
“I’m serious,” she said sternly. “Galvetic politics are dangerous. If they catch you meddling around, they’ll kill your entire crew without a second thought or any due process. We’d be powerless to stop them as they have no interest in outside interference.”
“I know, Kellea,” he said, the next sarcastic comment dying on his lips. “We’ll be careful. If we can get Fordix out of custody we may have a chance at seeing what we’re really up against. If it gets too wild I can always pull the plug.” She looked at him dubiously for a moment.
“You’ve mentioned that option many times, and yet I’ve never seen you walk away despite the numerous times you should have,” she said with a resigned sigh. “Crisstof will want a full debrief afterwards … assuming you survive.”
“Assuming that,” Jason agreed. “Anyway, I’m just giving you a heads up on what we’re doing and where we’re at. I’ll try to keep you apprised as we go along, but only if I have a secure connection.”
“Understood,” she said. “We’re a week away from your current position, but we’ll always have a strong com connection.”
“Sounds good,” Jason said. “We’ll talk again soon.”
“Be careful, Jason,” she said quickly before cutting the connection. He sat for a moment in the Phoenix’s com room, staring at the now-blank screen. The others were down in the cargo hold and armory gearing up for their upcoming mission. He was taking the time to reach out to Kellea and ensure the Phoenix was properly locked down once they were away. The plan they had tentatively agreed upon required they leave the gunship behind as they traveled to Galvetor, a prospect he wasn’t thrilled about, but could find no way around. His ship would likely not be given clearance to land, and an unaffiliated warship dropping in usually made security forces nervous and tightened up response times.
“Computer, lock out main memory core and prepare the ship for defensive posture alpha-one-one,” he said.
“Please confirm command code,” the computer said.
“One-eight-six-delta-four-four-one-seven.”
“Please confirm final command authorization.”
“Denver Broncos, 1969 Yenko Camaro,” Jason said. There were a few beeps and warbles from the console before he received confirmation.
“Confirmation accepted,” the computer said. “Defensive posture alpha-one-one will commence after final departure. Computer memory core is now secured and locked; any tampering will result in core destruction.”
Jason hopped out of the seat and walked out into the main corridor of the command deck, colliding with Connimon as he did.
“What are you doing up here?” he demanded harshly.
“My apologies, Captain,” she said with a nod. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“You didn’t startle me,” Jason said, trying to soften his tone. “I just don’t like anyone wandering the command deck on my ship without my knowledge.”
“Of course,” she said. “I came to inform you that we’re ready to begin mission planning and briefing in the cargo bay.” She walked back down to the main deck as Jason watched from the doorway of the com room, a frown still creasing his
“I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought or worried about it,” Jason said, getting up from his chair. “Get some sleep, buddy. I have a feeling the next few days are going to suck.”
*****
“Jason … how in the six hells do you get yourself wrapped up into these situations?” Kellea Colleren asked in a pained voice.
“You guys have six hells? We have one. Or nine, depending on who you ask,” Jason said. “Although—”
“I’m serious,” she said sternly. “Galvetic politics are dangerous. If they catch you meddling around, they’ll kill your entire crew without a second thought or any due process. We’d be powerless to stop them as they have no interest in outside interference.”
“I know, Kellea,” he said, the next sarcastic comment dying on his lips. “We’ll be careful. If we can get Fordix out of custody we may have a chance at seeing what we’re really up against. If it gets too wild I can always pull the plug.” She looked at him dubiously for a moment.
“You’ve mentioned that option many times, and yet I’ve never seen you walk away despite the numerous times you should have,” she said with a resigned sigh. “Crisstof will want a full debrief afterwards … assuming you survive.”
“Assuming that,” Jason agreed. “Anyway, I’m just giving you a heads up on what we’re doing and where we’re at. I’ll try to keep you apprised as we go along, but only if I have a secure connection.”
“Understood,” she said. “We’re a week away from your current position, but we’ll always have a strong com connection.”
“Sounds good,” Jason said. “We’ll talk again soon.”
“Be careful, Jason,” she said quickly before cutting the connection. He sat for a moment in the Phoenix’s com room, staring at the now-blank screen. The others were down in the cargo hold and armory gearing up for their upcoming mission. He was taking the time to reach out to Kellea and ensure the Phoenix was properly locked down once they were away. The plan they had tentatively agreed upon required they leave the gunship behind as they traveled to Galvetor, a prospect he wasn’t thrilled about, but could find no way around. His ship would likely not be given clearance to land, and an unaffiliated warship dropping in usually made security forces nervous and tightened up response times.
“Computer, lock out main memory core and prepare the ship for defensive posture alpha-one-one,” he said.
“Please confirm command code,” the computer said.
“One-eight-six-delta-four-four-one-seven.”
“Please confirm final command authorization.”
“Denver Broncos, 1969 Yenko Camaro,” Jason said. There were a few beeps and warbles from the console before he received confirmation.
“Confirmation accepted,” the computer said. “Defensive posture alpha-one-one will commence after final departure. Computer memory core is now secured and locked; any tampering will result in core destruction.”
Jason hopped out of the seat and walked out into the main corridor of the command deck, colliding with Connimon as he did.
“What are you doing up here?” he demanded harshly.
“My apologies, Captain,” she said with a nod. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“You didn’t startle me,” Jason said, trying to soften his tone. “I just don’t like anyone wandering the command deck on my ship without my knowledge.”
“Of course,” she said. “I came to inform you that we’re ready to begin mission planning and briefing in the cargo bay.” She walked back down to the main deck as Jason watched from the doorway of the com room, a frown still creasing his
Similar Books
