Spacers: Wartorn Cluster by Scott Bartlett

Author:Scott Bartlett [Bartlett, Scott]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Mirth Publishing
Published: 2020-04-12T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty

New Houston, Oasis Colony

Freedom System, Dupliss Region

Earth Year 2291

As he walked into the Frontier Security board room, Thatcher felt like his veins were buzzing with the large coffee he’d just shotgunned.

Every step was like lifting a leaden weight. He felt light-headed—like his reality had taken on a thin, brittle aspect, one that could shatter at the slightest jolt.

During the past few weeks, he’d slept very little. Moving through the Dawn Cluster’s cold regions as fast as the New Jersey was capable of moving without shuddering apart at the frames…well, it turned out that required a lot of attention from a ship’s captain. From UNC ships demanding to know where he and the Sunder fleet were headed in such a rush, to transmissions as trivial as bottom feeders trying to sell them salvaged parts, probably pirated—it had all required a firm hand on the rudder to keep his ship sailing smoothly through space.

But they’d done it. They’d arrived before…

…before what?

He attempted to blink the bleariness away as he settled into one of the seats arranged around the board room table. Everyone else here looked about as haggard as he felt, so he shouldn’t allow himself too much self-pity.

Yes, the Jersey had arrived with the Sunder warships in time to avoid Frontier Security’s utter destruction. But the death toll from Daybreak Combine’s attack was in the thousands, and the company had lost over half its total fleet.

Those present in the board room who’d participated in the battle looked haunted, their eyes staring into a distance only they could see. Wilson had acknowledged Thatcher with little more than a nod and a grunt, but he didn’t take that personally.

The Kibishii CEO, Akio Hata, sat to the right of Veronica Rose’s empty seat. Apparently he’d been on one of his troop ships when they’d been surprised by Daybreak’s ability to see them, and his ship had taken significant damage to its bow, though its structural integrity had remained intact. His shoulders were hunched, and he stared solemnly at the tabletop, as though the oaken surface might hold the answer to a long-pondered riddle.

Even the board members looked shaken. Out of everyone in the room, only two men looked more or less composed: Simon Moll and Hans Mittelman.

They sat as far away from each other as possible, Moll at the end of the table opposite where Rose would sit, and Mittelman at Rose’s left hand. The spymaster was pointedly avoiding the Sunder CEO’s gaze, but Moll’s smirk suggested that he barely noticed Mittelman’s attention—or feigned lack of attention. Mittelman might as well have been a cockroach, for all Moll seemed affected by his presence.

What happened between those two? Thatcher hadn’t heard of any conflict between them, but the way they were behaving toward each other spoke volumes.

Rose appeared at the double doors, which were propped open. She managed a faint smile, though she stumbled as she made her way around the table, and Thatcher winced. It seemed she’d been getting about as much sleep as he had, lately.

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