The Word Reclaimed by Steve Rzasa

Author:Steve Rzasa
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Enclave Publishing

When Colleen arrived on the bridge, it was full of noise and flashing lights. She crossed toward the command deck. “Cut the siren, Chief,” de Silva ordered, scowling under the alarm strobes.

“Aye, ma’am.” Lake shut the sound off. “Sensor check confirms sleeper mine explosion.”

“Picket Four?”

“Toast. Lots of little pieces, ma’am.”

“Blast.” De Silva came to attention as Colleen approached. “Captain on the bridge!”

“As you were.” Colleen projected her most businesslike authority, hoping to ease the tension of her officers. “What is it?”

De Silva gestured to the tactical data superimposed on the main viewscreen. “Picket Four had just confirmed retrieval of the debris at the sundoor to Bethel when it sent a distress call. Sleeper mine got it.”

“You’re sure?” Colleen pursed her lips in thought. “Not an engine failure?”

De Silva turned to Lake.

“Sensors marked a class six x-ray burst right before we lost the picket, Skipper.” His face darkened in anger. “Blew it to bits.”

“Okay, Chief.”

“That was one of my most reliable pickets, Captain.”

Colleen nodded. Lake took his work very personally. The pickets were like favorite dogs to him. “I know, Abe,” she said, trying to soothe his temper. “Let me think.”

Lake busied himself in communications with his sensor crews.

Colleen turned back to de Silva. “Commodore Gultasli?”

De Silva nodded. “We notified Iron Duke as soon as we knew. The rest of the task force has increased their rate of deceleration. Gultasli wants to put more time between themselves and our location. She’d like us to investigate further.”

“Ah, the joys of flying point,” Colleen said dryly. She turned to her helmsman. “Travers, cut engines and spin us back over. Notify engineering.”

“Aye, Captain.”

She glanced at Lake. “Begin full sensor appraisal now, Chief.”

“Aye, Skipper, but at this range—”

“I know we won’t get as fine detail but I see no point waiting until we’re sitting right on top of a swarm of mines,” Colleen said, settling into her chair. “If we catch one at long range, we may be able to trigger its detonation before we get too near.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Colleen summoned de Silva closer. “Class six. Not as powerful as ours.”

Her executive officer shook her head. “No. Probably pirates.”

“Or someone who wants us to think it was pirates. Hmm.” She stifled a yawn. The adrenaline of the moment was wearing off, and the night was wearing on.

De Silva noticed. “Skipper, why don’t you turn in? We can handle things just fine from here.”

Colleen looked at her, bemused. “Are you eager to have the chair to yourself, Lucia?” she teased.

“Si.” De Silva smiled, accepting the joke. “And aren’t you technically off duty for the night?”

“I was hoping you hadn’t noticed.” Colleen gave a long, mock sigh. “Well, I suppose if I’m not wanted anymore . . .”

“Good night, Captain.”

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