Revelation Run by Rick Partlow

Author:Rick Partlow [Partlow, Rick]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Aethon Books
Published: 2019-07-08T22:00:00+00:00

13

“Play it for them, Nance,” Kammy ordered, a sigh hissing off the end of the Communications Officer’s name.

If there’d been gravity, Logan expected the big man would have been stooped over, shoulders dragged down by the sorrow and weariness he was obviously feeling. Instead, he was hanging from the safety rail at the edge of the bridge, every muscle relaxed except for the hand anchoring him. Kammy had seemed more animated when he’d asked them to come straight from the ship’s hangar bay to the bridge on arrival, but maybe whatever it was had more time to sink in by now.

Nance was one of the few members of the original Shakak’s crew who’d survived the battle with the Starkad heavy cruiser Valkyrian back at Terminus, and though she’d received a promotion and a few medals for her actions, she still occupied the same position as Comm officer. She hadn’t wanted to give up her assignment to the new Shakak II to take a position commensurate with her new rank on some other, lesser ship.

The same was true of everyone from the Spartan Navy and Rangers who’d served on the first Wholesale Slaughter mission: not one had elected to leave their position even though every single one had been offered more authority in another assignment. As for Captain Donner Osceola’s original crew, well…he wanted to think, cynically, that the pay was better working for Sparta than going freelance, but he shook the idea away as unworthy. They’d been faithful to Osceola and they’d transferred that loyalty to Kammy when he’d taken over as Captain.

Nance seemed as fretful and depressed as Kammy, almost reluctant to touch the control to play back the message. When she did, the image came up on the two-D auxiliary screens rather than the main holographic display, the screens they’d installed during the refit. The face on the screen was unremarkable, unthreatening, an accountant’s face, the suit beneath it an accountant’s clothing. The expression on his face didn’t match his appearance. His anger radiated off him like the heat waves from an optical illusion on a desert road.

“We know it was you, Slaughter. We’ve seen the security videos from the club, we know you were there personally. We want Grieves and Jackson back and we want them now.”

“Grieves and Jackson?” Katy repeated.

“Monk and Ham,” Mira supplied. “Those are their real names. That man is Milo Breckenridge, Momma Salvaggio’s operations manager. He handles things when she’s away from the station.”

“In case you think you can just scoot out of here in your ship, bear in mind this station has the weaponry to disable any civilian ship.”

“Not this ship, Mister,” Katy muttered.

“If that isn’t enough reason for you,” Breckenridge went on, “perhaps this will be.”

The camera view shifted, jerky and halting, evidence that the video pickup was held in someone’s unsupported hand. Logan caught a brief glimpse of what looked like the detention cell in the security offices where they’d been held earlier before the image settled on Lyta Randell and his breath caught in his throat.

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