Keryn spent the next few days bedridden in the infirmary as a cocktail of quick-healing chemicals and enzymes coursed through her system, repairing the broken rib, damaged knee, and internal injuries. Adam had been in the bed next to her on the first day as the superficial wounds on his leg healed, but by day two he was up and moving, though he still spent a significant amount of time at her bedside. He held her hand, caressing it gently and lending support as she went through the more painful stages of her rehabilitation. Though his words were comforting, it was the information he brought that was more valuable.
“Alcent has established a ruling council for the ship,” Adam explained to her on the second day as she lay in bed. Sweat beaded on her brow as the chemicals coursed through her system, setting fire to her nerves. Her body tense from the pain, she maintained a crushing grip on his hand.
“And what…” she began through clenched teeth. Her breathing was labored, making speech painful in between gasps of air. “What does he intend to do with this council?”
Adam shrugged. “The council has yet to meet because they’re waiting for you.”
“Me?” Keryn asked, surprised. “Why does he want me?”
“They want both of us,” Adam explained. “We’re seen as beacons of the hard-earned freedom from Miller’s Glen. They don’t just want diplomats on the council; people who will get bogged down in the bureaucratic double speak that everyone is already too familiar with. What they want are people of action, and they can’t think of two people who epitomize action better than you and me.”
“And I’m assuming Alcent is on the council?”
Adam nodded, knowing what she was insinuating. “Yes, he’s on the council. Yes, it’s a position of power, which is more than a little self-serving for Alcent. But I think he’s doing the right thing.”
Keryn glowered at him. “’The right thing’? Alcent doesn’t know the meaning of that phrase.”
Shrugging, Adam explained. “A lot of people have questions right now, questions that aren’t readily available. They want to know where we’re going and why. People are afraid. Just because we’ve escaped the planet doesn’t mean we’re free yet. We still don’t know how long we’ll be able to fly before we encounter another Terran Destroyer.”
Keryn squeezed her eyes shut as frustration rolled through her body. “Haven’t we started going through the computer?”
“We have,” Adam said, sighing. “We have, but what we found isn’t very promising.” He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “There’s a lot of information and only a few people capable of working the systems. It’ll take time to sort through all the data.”
Standing, Adam stroked her hair and gave her a warm smile. “I’ll come back and visit you later. Get feeling better.” Keryn smiled as warmly as her body would allow before Adam turned and left the infirmary. Once he was out of sight, the smile faded from her lips. Though her body would heal, she wasn’t sure she would be feeling better about their situation any time soon. Even if she chose to ignore the fact that she was taking a group of emotionally and physically defeated survivors to a planet that guaranteed further violence between them and the Terrans, she still had to worry about the devious loyalties of Alcent. The Uligart had loyalties that extended only as far as his own financial or physical well-being. Alcent had been a good ally of opportunity when she needed help on Othus, but she didn’t think him trustworthy enough to lead a council who would make decisions that would benefit an entire ship worth of survivors. Then again he was a smuggler, a profession that based its existence on deceit and lies. Maybe that made him the most qualified politician out of the entire group.
Later in the day, Keryn was able to get out of bed and move freely around the ship. She was grateful for her freedom. Though Adam’s presence was soothing, when he wasn’t around she was left only with the company of the Voice, whose lack of patience was only surpassed by her own. Too many days of bed rest resulted in sniping comments both inside her mind and directed at anyone unfortunate enough to walk by her bed. When she left the infirmary, the nursing staff was glad to see her go.
Adam walked by her side as they made their way toward the bridge. Her rib had healed as had the injured knee, but the increased gravity from the deep space travel still took its toll on her body. They paused often, usually at the base or top of stairwells, which allowed Keryn to view the damage to the ship.
The Terrans had manned the ship with only a skeleton crew, but they had put up a significant fight as the revolutionaries hunted them throughout the corridors. Holes and scars marred the once pristinely painted walls. Near the base of the closest set of stairs, the tiles were cracked and loose and the walls around were charred and black, signs of exchanged grenades between the two forces. If they intended to remain in the Ballistae, there would need to be a significant amount of work done. First and foremost would be removing the gold and blue runners that were painted along all the hallways of the ship, constant reminders of the Terran Empire.
As the pair approached the bridge, a man wearing a dirty jacket approached them both.
“Excuse me,” the man said in a stern, confident voice that belied his worn appearance. “Alcent has gathered the rest of the council in the War Room and requests your presence.”
Keryn and Adam followed the messenger to the War Room, a blockish room with a U-shaped table dominating the center of the room. At the base of the U, holding a position of power, sat Alcent. As the two entered, he motioned to a pair of empty chairs on his right. No sooner had she collapsed into the chair than Alcent began his rehearsed speech.
“We are a lost people,” Alcent began. “Our homes destroyed and our land forgotten, we’re wanderers in the void of space. We have no goal, no aim, no sense of direction. The longer we drift the more we lose our sense of self. We need a purpose and a goal. For that, I defer to our saviors. Of all those who fought in the Glen, two were the voice that launched a revolution. Ladies and gentlemen, I give to you Keryn Riddell and Adam Decker, the Heroes of the Revolution!”
Applause erupted in the small room as a mixture of faces and species cheered the two sitting at the head of the table. Keryn smiled sheepishly, unsure of how to react but sure that this was Alcent’s desired reaction. As the applause slowly died away, Alcent turned to Keryn.
“Please, Keryn,” he said comfortingly. “You set us free and got us a ship. Adam even gave directions on where we were going, but did not give an explanation of why. Enlighten us.”
His last statement ended without any of the compassion she had heard moments before. Keryn quickly realized that Alcent was not fond of being kept in the dark. For someone who made his wealth off information, she could understand his position quite well.
“There’s no sense in being coy,” Keryn said matter-of-factly. “We’re heading to a Terran scientific outpost.”
She was unsure of whether or not the ruling council heard the words “scientific outpost”. The mere mention of flying from one Terran stronghold straight to another sent the council members into an uproar. They spoke over themselves as they yelled to be heard so that only small amounts of conversation could be heard.
“…insanity…”
“…a suicide mission…”
“…she should be removed immediately.”
Adam slammed his fist onto the table. In surprise, the room hushed. All faces turned to the angry Pilgrim, whose face was flush red.
“We just left Miller’s Glen and you’re already squabbling like children!” Adam yelled into the quiet room. Many of the council members flinched away from his berating. “Keryn saved every one of your lives, but do you really believe that the insignificant numbers of lives in Miller’s Glen are the only ones in danger in the entire universe?”
Keryn placed a hand on Adam’s arm and the anger drained from his face. Looking slightly embarrassed, he took his seat. In his stead, Keryn stood.
“Adam, while enthusiastic, is also correct,” she began, her voice clearly carrying in the large room. “It’s great to know that everyone that survived Miller’s Glen is now safely aboard the Ballistae. You’re all safe now from a dormant star, which is no longer shining its light down upon your planet. But that’s only one sun. We’re talking about one sun in all of Alliance space. I know there’s still a lot of data to go through in the ship’s computer, but I can guarantee that what happened to us is happening throughout the universe.”
Keryn moved around the table, allowing the eyes of a dozen different council members follow her. “Every one of you made your money through smuggling and trade. Who will you trade with when everyone else is dead? I know that you all can’t be so self-serving as to believe that escaping Miller’s Glen was the end of all your problems.”
She continued to walk around the table as she continued. “The bottom line is that the Terrans created this mess and have to be the only ones with the solution to the Deplitoxide that destroyed the sun. We know that the Deplitoxide was farmed from a small swamp planet called Beracus, in the Falitan Galaxy. The Terrans have set up a scientific outpost there, which is where we’ll find the information we need to restart the dying suns throughout the universe.
Keryn stood at the open end of the tables, her arms crossed and staring at the council. She closed her eyes, letting the Voice creep into her words. “Note that I didn’t, at any time, phrase our destination or our intent in the form of a question. My mission is unchanged, regardless of the crew with whom I serve. If, at any point, you feel that you cannot be a part of this expedition, I can point you to the closest exit to the ship. In fact, I will help you through the airlock.”
The Voice receded before Keryn spoke again, this time with a soft smile on her lips. “Now, are there any questions?”
The council members departed one at a time, having no dissent for Keryn’s plan. As the last couple left, Alcent stepped in front of Keryn and Adam, begging them to wait.
“You may not agree with them,” Alcent said, “but they are influential members of this ship. Many of the soldiers who helped win all of our freedom, yours included, once worked for one of those twelve men.”
“Then maybe it’s time these soldiers made their own path,” Adam grumbled from behind Keryn.
“Maybe you’re right,” Alcent conceded. “But some of these men have known nothing else but servitude for decades. You can’t expect them to become their own men overnight. You’d both do well to not make enemies so quickly.”
“Are you saying you won’t support us?” Keryn asked dangerously.
Alcent threw up his hands defensively. “You more than convinced me that we’re doing the right thing. I’ll even talk to the others. I’m sure they’ll support you too. I’m just recommending a different tact.”
“Once you’ve talked them into the plan,” Keryn explained, “get this ship ready for combat. I don’t imagine a Terran outpost is going to be undefended.”
Keryn grew restless as the ship covered the distance to Beracus. The men on board were not soldiers and hadn’t been trained as such. Many of her recommendations went unheeded and repairs were abysmally slow. She lost her temper frequently and relied on Adam to smooth over the relationships with those onboard.
When she wasn’t pacing, Keryn spent her time alternating between inspecting the weapons bays — where she found a storehouse of Deplitoxide rockets — and working in the computer room with a brilliant teenager named Wyck. Only sixteen years old, Wyck had been serving in Miller’s Glen in the communications tower of the spaceport. His knack for computers had made him invaluable in fooling hostile passing ships into believing that Miller’s Glen was an uninhabited planet. The same brilliance that earned him a job on the planet garnered him a job on board the Ballistae as well.
Almost immediately, Wyck had pointed out the shortcomings of the Terran computer system. “The Terrans spend all their time working on genetic and biological experiments but spend so little improving their existing technological advancements,” Wyck explained one day.
“They did invent the Deplitoxide missiles and blacked out all the suns in the known universe,” Keryn countered.
“Yes,” Wyck replied slowly, “but every one of those advancements are biological and organic weapons. Take this computer system as an example. Everything in it is encoded, but they’ve applied such a childish cipher that it takes me only minutes to crack and decode any file I want.”
“So have you found anything I can use?” Keryn asked.
Wyck shrugged. “Unfortunately, no. It doesn’t take very long to decode their files, but they saved and encoded everything. I mean everything! I’m not entirely sure, but this file looks like the recipe for grandmother’s short bread pudding. It’s these tedious files that are slowing me down.”
“Keep decoding,” Keryn urged. “Somewhere in there is something important. It’s just a matter of you finding it.”
“Don’t worry, ma’am. I’m on it.”
“Please don’t call me…”
Keryn was interrupted as the intercom sounded throughout the ship. “Keryn and Adam please report to the bridge immediately.”
“I’ve got to go, cutie,” Keryn said as she stood. She reached down and squeezed his arm. “I know you won’t let me down.”
She rushed through the halls until she reached the bridge. The guards on either side of the door stepped aside as she rushed in with Adam close on her heels.
“What is it?” Keryn asked breathlessly. She knew she wouldn’t have been called to the bridge unless it was important.
“We’re beginning our deceleration into the Falitan Galaxy,” Alcent explained. “We’ll reach the planet in less than fifteen minutes.”
Keryn moved over to the communications console and entered the code for the ship-wide intercom. Overhead, two tones beeped from the speaker system notifying her that the microphone was now active.
“Attention in the ship,” she called into the microphone on the console. “All personnel report to the weapons bays. This is not a drill. We expect contact with a Terran Destroyer in less than fifteen minutes.”
She took a deep breath before she continued. “I know many of you are scared right now. However, I need you to realize that the advantage here is ours. The Terrans still believe this ship is under their side’s control. We should be able to fire the first volley before they can react. If all goes well, they will never have a chance to fire back. All that hinges on you, though. Everyone report to the weapons bays and prepare to fire on my command.”
Keryn turned off the microphone and took her place next to Adam and Alcent. They watched the forward view as the Ballistae came into the galaxy, skirting behind the nearest planet. This approach seemed surprisingly familiar to Keryn, who had done the same thing when approaching Othus not so long ago. Now, though, she knew it was to block the Terran scanners for as long as possible before commencing the attack. As they neared the edge of the planet, Alcent turned toward the command console.
“This can’t be right,” he said as his fingers flew over the display.
“What’s wrong?” Adam asked, stepping over by his side and trying to peer over his shoulder.
“I’m not reading a Terran ship on the radar,” Alcent said, his concern creeping into his voice.
“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?” Adam asked.
“Yes, because we won’t have to fight one. But it doesn’t make sense why there wouldn’t be one guarding such an important outpost.”
“Guys,” Keryn said, the words catching in her throat as her heart leapt. “I think I know why there isn’t a ship in orbit.”
They all turned toward the forward window as the Ballistae moved around the planet and got its first view of the galaxy. Directly before them, hanging dead in space, was a large black sun. Keryn clenched her fist so tightly that blood seeped from beneath her fingernails. To the left of the dark sun, Beracus floated in the unnatural darkness. Even from their distance, Keryn could see that the once vibrant swamp planet was covered in feet of white, powdery snow.
Keryn trudged through the waist deep snow, keeping her sight on the abandoned Terran outpost still half a mile away. Under foot, buried beneath the white powder, the once marshy ground had turned into frozen tundra. Around her, the crew who had accompanied her and Adam to the planet’s surface, broke through the thick drifts in search of any surviving plant life. Unfortunately, their results were all the same. Beracus was a dead world.
“They’re all withered,” one of the men yelled as Keryn leaned into the biting arctic wind. The man, barely visible through the blowing snow, held up a limp brown plant that he had torn from the ground. “Should I bring it with us?”
Keryn scowled and continued pushing forward. Tears welled in her eyes as she stared intently at the ghost of a building in the distance. She wanted to believe that the tears were from the driving snow which blew constantly into her face, stinging her skin and turning her cheeks bright red, a stark contract to her blue and purple tattoos. But she knew that a large part of the tears was brought on by the realization that her mission had been for nothing. Good soldiers had died on Pteraxis while she hunted Cardax for nothing more than this planet’s name. Penchant and hundreds more sacrificed their lives so that she could escape Othus with the location of this outpost. To arrive and find nothing but a lifeless husk left an ache in her chest that she wasn’t sure would heal any time soon. Instead of letting the sadness overwhelm her, however, Keryn pressed ever forward, hoping beyond hope that the blockish grey building in the distance would offer redemption for this abysmal failure.
Struggling to keep up with her feverish pace, Adam and Wyck walked side by side behind Keryn. They had spotted the facility on their initial approach and had been tempted to land closer. Those on board, however, had insisted on taking the opportunity to search for the mythical plant that created Deplitoxide. After stepping off the craft and sinking into the snow, Adam instantly regretted that decision. The mood of the walk, already dour and hostile, did not improve as they moved through the landscape. The densely packed trees had died under the frigid assault. Long icicles drooped from the hanging branches like ominous claws. The light refracting from their flashlights cast stark shadows, which danced in between the trees, and reflected harshly on the white snow.
After closing the distance to the facility, the grey building loomed before the trio. They scanned its facade with their flashlights, but the narrow beams seemed insignificant as the passed along the outside of the three-story structure. All along the front of the building, windows were smashed, leaving jagged shards of glass protruding from their sockets. To Keryn, it seemed uncertain whether the damage had been done by the Terrans before they left or by a native creature searching refuge from the plummeting temperatures. Turning away from the windows, Keryn located the closest door that, to her surprise, stood partially ajar.
The trio moved toward it and, with Adam putting his shoulder against it, forced the door open enough for them to enter. The interior was dark, penetrated only by their lights. Just past the door, a snow bank sat piled where it had blown through the cracked doorway. Beyond, among the twisting maze of hallways and laboratories, silence stretched like a blanket over the facility.
“Why did they do it?” Wyck asked quietly, fearing to intrude on the thick silence.
“Why’d they do what?” Adam asked, pushing his boot through the refuse that lay buried beneath the snowdrift. He couldn’t be certain whether the pile of trash had been naturally carried on the winds or had been placed as a nest. He hoped for the former.
“Why destroy their own world?” Wyck explained. “They owned this planet and everything in this entire galaxy. They had the means to produce infinite amounts of Deplitoxide and the laboratories to refine it. But, instead, the planet’s dead and the outpost abandoned. It just doesn’t make any sense.”
“It makes perfect sense,” Adam said darkly. “They had enough Deplitoxide to cripple the entire Alliance. I’m also willing to bet they found an antidote for it. By destroying Beracus, they made sure we never got our hands on any of it.”
“And by destroying the lab,” Keryn said as she pushed past them both and proceeded down the hallway, “they ensured that they were the only ones to hold the cure. They had both the instrument of our destruction and the cure at their disposal.” Without slowing, Keryn walked down the hall until all that remained was a slight silhouette and the clicking of her boots on the tiled floor.
Adam and Wyck exchanged glances and sped off to catch her. The winding passages within the outpost looked to be in little better condition than the exterior. Large panes of glass that once separated the halls from the individual labs had been destroyed. The glass had shattered into the labs, lending itself to Keryn’s theory that the damage to the building happened intentionally as the Terrans were evacuating the planet. The trio stopped at a number of the laboratories, searching through the toppled vials and destroyed centrifuges, but found nothing of value.
Keryn threw the test tube in her hands, shattering it against the far wall. “Why are we even here!” she yelled into the destroyed laboratory.
Adam motioned for Wyck to wait outside while he moved over to her side. He placed an arm around her shoulder and held her close, even as she tensed at his touch. Alone with Adam in the lab, the tears she had held back outside now flowed freely.
“It’s not fair,” she cried into Adam’s shoulder. “We’ve worked so hard. We’ve been through so much. I can’t accept that this is how our mission ends.”
Adam stroked her hair as she buried her face in his chest. “It’s not over yet,” Adam said, consoling. “We didn’t come this far just to reach a dead end now.”
“Shut up, Adam,” she said between sobs. “Quit being my savior and just hold me until I get this out of my system.”
They stood in silence, wrapped in each other’s embrace, until Keryn’s shoulders finally quit shaking. As she pulled away, she wiped the streaks of tears from her face and looked him in the eyes.
“Tell me we can do this,” she demanded.
“We can do this,” he said confidently. “If there’s a computer left in this outpost, Wyck will find it. I figured that’s why you brought him along.”
“That’s exactly why,” she confessed. “I wish he could search the Ballistae computer files from here instead of wasting his time walking around with the two of us.”
“Tora will do fine on the ship. Wyck is needed here.” Tora was an Avalon who had shown some impressive computer proficiency, but nowhere near the same brilliance that Wyck had demonstrated. Still, they were both sure that Tora would do fine sorting through the multitude of files.
“Let’s get out of here before I have another episode,” Keryn said, dejected. “My Voice is already calling me names.”
Adam laughed out loud as he followed her into the hall where Wyck waited, looking surprised at the sudden laughter. Placing his hand on Wyck’s shoulder, Adam pushed him deeper into the labyrinth of the Terran facility.
The trio lost track of time in the dark, winding passages. Occasionally, they passed a destroyed window, the dark glow from the outside shining only slightly brighter than the inky gloom within the building. Twice, they went up sets of stairs, following Wyck’s guidance. He explained as they walked that the computer system would be closest to the center of the building, which was the direction they moved. However, the humidity and indigenous creatures that would have roamed a marshy planet like Beracus precluded the computer systems from being stored on the first floor. After an eternity of walking, Wyck’s intuition paid off when they found the main control room.
Keryn’s mood did not improve as they viewed the decimated remains of the room. The large monitor that dominated the far wall was shattered, appearing to have suffered from multiple gunshots before the screen cracked and crumbled. Wyck moved to one of the imbedded computer towers in the room, shaking his head as he stuck his fingers into the holes blasted into the side of its alloy casing.
“They shot it,” he said, irritated. “It looks like they shot everything in here!”
“Focus, Wyck,” Keryn said calmly, suppressing the frustration she shared with the young genius. “Search all of them. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that soldiers firmly believe that if you shoot something, it’s no longer an issue. They often fail to understand the intricacies of aiming at a specific part of the computer tower. Find me a computer tower where they didn’t hit the specific part we need.”
As Wyck went to work examining the computers, Keryn left the room and activated her microphone. “Ballistae, this is Talon,” she said, keeping the call sign she had used with the Cair Ilmun.
“This is Ballistae,” the static-filled voice replied as the signal broke through the blizzard swirling across the planet.
“Patch me through to the control room,” Keryn requested, referring to the computer room where Tora was examining computer files.
“This is Tora,” a bubbly Avalon voice replied over the radio, her voice crackling from the interference.
“Tora, this is Keryn. We’re in the computer room now, searching for anything useful. What have you found up there?”
“Nothing so far. I’m sorry, Keryn. There are still quite a few files to go, though, so I’ll let you know the second I find something worthwhile.”
Keryn frowned, disappointed. She had hoped that one of the two current missions would reveal some good news. She keyed the microphone again. “Don’t worry about it, Tora. Just keep working to find me anything I can use. Keryn, out.”
She walked back inside, shaking her head in response to Adam’s inquisitive look. She gestured to Wyck, who slid on hands and knees from one tower to another. A steady stream of profanity flew from his lips as he examined yet another shattered tower.
“That pretty well says it all,” Adam said as she slipped an arm through his. “How are you holding up?”
“I’m better. Sometimes, I just need to get it all out before I can start recharging again.”
“Vent any time you need to,” Adam said as he leaned down, his lips meeting hers in a gentle kiss. They both jumped as Wyck yelled excitedly.
“I’ve found one!” he screamed, jumping to his feet.
“You found a working tower?” Keryn asked, her own enthusiasm mirroring Wyck’s. For the first time in days, a smile spread across her face.
“Yes, I did,” he said, dropping back down to the ground and prying open the front of the computer tower. “I mean, they probably wiped the hard drive before they tried to shoot it…”
The frown disappeared from Keryn’s face. “What do you mean ‘wiped the hard drive’?” The anger crept into her voice. “You said you found a working tower. Now did you or didn’t you?”
Though his back was to her, Keryn swore she could sense him rolling his eyes. “Remember when we were on the ship and you and I compared the emphasis of research for both the Empire and the Alliance? The Terrans wiped the hard drives on their computers, assuming that the data is lost forever once it’s complete. To be honest, it would be lost to an average genius. But I am not average.” Wyck ended his rant with a flair of arrogance.
Adam placed his hand on Keryn’s arm as she started to step toward Wyck. “So you’re saying you can retrieve the data?” Adam asked, defusing the hostility in the air.
“I should be able to get the data, no problem,” Wyck replied. He reached into the depths of the tower, pulling out a handful of color-coded wires. Holding his flashlight in his mouth, he sorted through the mess of colored cables until he found the two he was looking for. Detaching electronic nodes from his own handheld console, Wyck attached the nodes to the wires. As his fingers flew across the screen of the console, data started flooding into his computer from the dormant hard drive.
“Give me a little time to retrieve all the deleted data and sort through the crap we don’t need,” Wyck requested, “then I’ll be able to give you an answer.”
Keryn leaned into Adam and whispered in his ear as Wyck began typing again. “I don’t wait very well.”
Adam chuckled. “If anyone knows that already, don’t you think I realize that fact? Go explore the rest of the floor. Go look out a window. Find something to pass the time or you’re going to drive us both crazy.”
“And him?” she asked, motioning toward Wyck.
“I’ll keep him working like a good slave driver,” Adam replied, snapping to the position of attention. “I won’t let him take a coffee break or anything.”
It was then Keryn’s turn to laugh. “Very funny. Call me as soon as you have anything.”
Keryn wandered out into the hall, her flashlight barely cutting through the darkness. She thought about exploring, but figured the chance of finding anything left behind by the Terrans was slim. Instead, she decided to take Adam’s other advice and found a window. Standing on top of the shattered glass and piled snow next to the broken window, Keryn closed her eyes and let the cold wind blow over her. On the third floor, the blizzard crashed against the bottom of the building and billowed upward, catching her silvery hair in the updraft. Though cold, the air seemed relaxing as the tension began draining from her body.
Opening her eyes again, Keryn looked out on the bleak landscape. From her vantage point, she was able to make out the start of the jungle canopy. In the gloom, with only the stars’ ambient light illuminating the land, the ice-coated tree tops glistened like crystals in the darkness. Though she was sure that the planet would have been beautiful when it was lush and living, there was a serene elegance to the frozen world she now observed. Only the howling of the wind disrupted the peaceful solitude.
“I’ve got something,” Wyck called over the radio, breaking Keryn free from her mental vacation.
As she stepped away from the window, her radio crackled to life again.
“I’ve got something, Keryn” Tora sang over the static.
“Tora, hold fast,” Keryn replied as she activated the radio. “I’ll be with you in a second.” Switching channels, she keyed the microphone again. “Wyck, I’m heading to your position.”
Though she tried not to get excited, Keryn quickly found herself running through the halls of the outpost until she reached the control room.
“What have you found?” she asked, the cold air burning her lungs after her exertion.
“Everything,” Wyck said as he turned, a broad smile splayed across his face. “I told you the Terrans were terrible at technology. I have their chemical equations for curing the Deplitoxide.”
“That’s great,” Keryn said, unable to contain her excitement.
But the planet…, the Voice whispered, acting as the voice of reason.
Keryn stopped just short of hugging Wyck as she quickly understood what the Voice was saying.
“The planet is dead,” she said, voicing her concerns. “How are we going to experiment toward creating the cure? We don’t have any Deplitoxide to use as a base.”
“That’s not entirely true,” Adam said as he leaned against one of the exposed support beams. “At my last count, we have nearly a score of Deplitoxide rockets on board the Ballistae in one of the weapons bays.”
Keryn’s eyes sparkled in the dark. “You’re right. I inventoried them when I was examining the weapon systems on board. Adam, you’re a genius!”
Wyck coughed politely from his seated position at the computer.
“Don’t worry, Wyck. You’re not half bad either,” Keryn chided. Reaching to her microphone, Keryn activated it again.
“You still there, Tora?” she asked.
“Yes I am.”
“Do you have some good news for me too?” Keryn said.
“Not so much,” Tora replied. “We had guessed before that the Terrans were able to coordinate so complex an assault into Alliance space because their computers were all interconnected.”
Keryn remembered being briefed on something along those lines and said as much to Tora over the radio.
“I think our ship is still attached to that network,” Tora said flatly.
Keryn and Adam exchanged worried glances. “Is that a bad thing? Can they track us using the connection?”
“I’m sure they could, if that was their intent,” Tora explained. “But I think the main reason for this connection is to coordinate attacks. It has quite a few battle plans stored in its buffer.”
“Tora, can you send all that data down to Wyck’s computer?” Keryn asked as she turned toward the bank of computers. Wyck nodded, entering the code to receive a data stream.
“Absolutely. I’m sending it your way now.”
Keryn stood over Wyck’s shoulder as the he downloaded the files. As soon as it was done, she snatched the handheld console from his hand and began perusing the files. She scrolled through a series of battle plans as Adam stood by one shoulder and Wyck assumed his position at the other. In the corner of each tactical overlay, Keryn noticed a date imprinted.
“These have already happened,” she said, pointing at the dates. “I’m going to see if there’s any battle charts for current or future attacks.”
Scrolling past the outdated plans, Keryn finally reached one, the date of which told her that what she was watching was happening in real time. She stood, stunned, as she watched the projected strategy play itself out.
“They’re attacking the Fleet,” Keryn said.
“When?” Adam asked.
Keryn looked at the date. “Now, and not far from this galaxy.” She turned to the other two. “Grab everything. We need to get back to the Ballistae.”
As they ran through the halls back toward the front of the outpost, Keryn keyed her microphone to activate all radios on the planet simultaneously.
“Everyone on the planet, report immediately back to the transport ship. We are leaving orbit immediately!”