Stellar Fox (Castle Federation Book 2) by Glynn Stewart

Author:Glynn Stewart [Stewart, Glynn]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, azw3
Publisher: Faolans Pen Publishing Inc.
Published: 2015-12-20T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 24

Deep Space, En route to KG-779

17:00 January 6, 2736 Earth Standard Meridian Date/Time

DSC-078 Avalon, Flight Country Mess

The sound of crashing furniture from the main officer mess in Flight Country wasn’t really a surprise to Michael. The only real question was who was fighting whom.

“What is going on here?” he bellowed, channeling as much of Roberts’ energy and volume as he could as he burst into the mess hall. It had a gratifying quieting effect on the occupants of the room, two of whom froze in the act of trying to put each other through the remnants of the table they’d already snapped in half.

Michael surveyed the frozen scene, trying to put enough disdain into his movements to make clear how badly his people had screwed up. The mess hall wasn’t an overly decorative portion of the ship – that was reserved for the ship’s three carefully maintained ‘Officers’ Lounges’ – and the long tables and uncomfortable chairs were cheap plastic.

One of those tables had clearly had someone body-slammed onto it, and said cheap plastic had snapped under the impact. Two men, both Flight Lieutenants with, he sighed, pilot’s wings insignia were half-crouched in the middle of the debris field as the rest of the room’s occupants were gathered around.

The situation had not yet degraded into a mass brawl at least, and it didn’t even look like blood had been drawn or bones broken. That opened his options up a lot.

“Well?” he demanded, walking into the room and carefully stepping over the shattered remnants of a chair. “Does someone have an explanation for this mess?”

Flight Lieutenant Ivan Kovalchick was an old Avalon hand. The big blond kid had served under Roberts as Wing Commander before the Captain’s transfer to the navy, and he’d spent most of the last two years under Michael’s command.

The other combatant was Flight Lieutenant Antonio Zupan, a whipcord-thin snake of a man with black eyes, black hair and tanned-dark skin marked with tattoos where his sleeves were rolled up. He had, until a few days ago, served aboard Cameroon.

“This lying… jerk,” Michael heard Kovalchick censor himself, “says we’ve got a spy aboard and it’s one of us,” the youth gestured to one side of the room.

The CAG didn’t sigh aloud when he realized the room was clearly split between the original Avalon flight crews and the new squadrons transferred from Cameroon.

“And?” he asked patiently.

Kovalchick flushed.

“None of us are traitors!” the youth snapped, directed more at Zupan than his CAG. “More likely this new bunch have a snake in their midst!”

The ex-Cameroon pilot started to open his mouth, but Kyle held up a hand.

“Ivan,” he said quietly, “we had a spy aboard before these boys and girls came aboard. We know that. So Mister Zupan is correct in that it’s more likely to be one of the old hands than the new.”

Michael turned to Zupan and leveled a hopefully cold gaze on that pilot.

“On the other hand, I would hope my pilots had enough Voids-cursed sense not to be picking fights,” he snapped.

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