Messenger Corps by J.N. Chaney & Terry Maggert & D. Glenn Seguin

Author:J.N. Chaney & Terry Maggert & D. Glenn Seguin
Language: eng
Format: mobi, azw3, epub
Tags: Space Fleet, Space Marine, Science Fiction
Publisher: Variant Publications
Published: 2024-10-29T00:00:00+00:00

19

DARIUS SPANN THUNDERED into the Golden Nova. He was pinned in an agonizing place, suspended somewhere between rage, frustration, and abject humiliation. While the Messenger Corps licked its wounds and frantically sought to repair and rearm its damaged mechs, he was desperate to find who was responsible and hold them accountable.

To have them very publicly executed in the middle of the Kingsport Parade Ground, if need be⁠—

He almost tripped over yet another of the Kingsport’s maintenance remotes. He kicked it, hard, as it tried to slip past him and out of the Nova’s airlock. His foot connected with a thud he felt in his toes, but the thing barely wobbled and just kept going on. Balling his fists, he opened his mouth to unleash a stream of profanity after the Golden-cursed⁠—

But he stopped, paused, then slumped a little. His ineffectual kick—ineffectual to everything except his toes, that is—seemed to have dissipated the molten edge of his anger. In its place swirled in something darker, something that had been lurking all around him, hovering on the very edge of perception during the flight back to the Kingsport.

He knew full well who was responsible for this disaster.

He was.

And the thing that came swirling in was bitter shame and despair. Yes, their reconnaissance hadn’t been adequate. Yes, perhaps the screen commander should have pushed more aggressively forward, being prepared to not just passively gather information, but fight for it. Yes, the commander of Three Wing should have been quicker to disengage from rimward and shore up the Corps’ faltering coreward flank. Yes⁠—

Yes. Sure. All of that was true. But he was the Messenger. The leadership of the Corps was ultimately his responsibility.

And he had failed.

Nova cut into his thoughts. “Messenger, Admiral Yu-Ping is on the comm⁠—”

“Tell her to wait,” he snapped, turning to stride off to his quarters and—and do whatever came next. But he only took two steps, then slowed and hesitated.

“Tell her to wait until I attend to some matters, and then I will contact her.”

“Understood.”

Spann took a deep breath and simply stood inside the airlock for a moment. Then he set off for his quarters, walking a measured, deliberate pace.

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