The Honour of the Knights, Stephen J. Sweeney [reading women .txt] 📗

safety of the desk. Parks looked to him, but Ainsworth only gave a very slight shake of his head.

Parks turned back to the Knights. “Before you go: I shouldn't have to remind you that even though you are no longer active participants within the ATAF project the project is still classified,” he stated bluntly. “As before, none of you are to discuss your involvement or knowledge of the starfighter; it doesn't exist. Your personal records and other assignment papers will state that you have just transferred from Wolf 359 where you were working to ensure continued security of Naval interests.

“That is all, White Knights, you are dismissed. You will be informed when your transport arrives. Until then, please remain in your assigned waiting room; security will see you out. If there is anything you need before your departure, then please inform a member of personnel.”

The same tone of finality was still present as Parks finished and Dodds could not help but feel as if the commodore was blaming them for something. With some reluctance, the Knights saluted and turned to leave.

“Man, I can't believe they're sending us to Spirit,” Enrique grumbled.

“It must be some sort of mistake,” Kelly said. “They surely won't keep us there for more than a few weeks...”

“Is there a problem, Mr Koonan?” Parks' voice came from some way behind.

Dodds looked around to discover that, whilst the others had walked towards the door, where a couple of members of security were waiting to escort them away, Chaz had remained rooted to the spot. He was staring down at Parks and, from the concerned look on Ainsworth's face, he was not in the best of moods. Mansun, too, had taken a small step backwards in retreat, away from the big man who seemed to be radiating fury.

Enrique started back, but Kelly grabbed his arm, holding him with the others. From what Dodds had gathered, whilst Enrique maintained a better relationship with Chaz than anyone else, it was doubtful that he would be able to handle the man in his current state. The two security guards exchanged a quick look with one another, and their hands poised over the pistols at their belts, ready to move in in case of trouble. Parks remained sat at his desk, twiddling a pen in hand and staring unflinching back up into Chaz's enraged expression, his own quite still and impassive.

“No, sir,” Chaz said after a time, in a cold, bitter tone, the hands at his sides balled into tight fists.

“Good. Please don't keep your transport waiting, Lieutenant,” Parks answered, now meeting Chaz's glare with a stern look of his own.

With that, and without saluting, Chaz turned on his heel and marched out the door, past his four wingmates and the two security guards. He acknowledged none of them as he went, his brow furrowed, his eyes blazing, his fists still clenched firmly. They looked around to the commodore.

“Please escort the Knights to where they will await transport,” Parks prompted security, before turning his attention to some paperwork in front of him.

* * *

“Is Spirit really that bad?” Kelly asked Enrique, eyes on Chaz, as security led them to their assigned waiting room. Ahead of her, Dodds put his arm around Estelle, but she shrugged him off without a word, apparently preferring to wallow in her own misery. Chaz still strode ahead of the group, alone.

“I don't think that's what's upset him,” Enrique replied.

V

— The One That Got Away —

Wearing a surly expression, Estelle marched to the rear of the transport shuttle and slumped down into one of the seats, ignoring her fellow Knights and choosing instead to stare out the window. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Dodds attempting to get her attention, before giving up and settling down into a seat further up the shuttle.

With the ejection from the ATAF project and her dreams in tatters, Estelle felt that her life was just about over. The greatest opportunity of her career, gone; just like that. She tried to remind herself that there was always someone, somewhere who was worse off than she; though right now she was having trouble picturing it.

* * *

At the edge of Imperial space, Natalia Grace had dragged a barely conscious, dying man down the corridors of her stricken vessel for what seemed like an eternity, doing her best to avoid the flames that continued to erupt all around her. Twice, she had been forced to change her route to reach the escape pods. The smoke was starting to thicken now, making it difficult to see and breathe.

To make matters worse, the man she struggled to bring with her had fought against her throughout the journey, attempting to shake her off. He had shouted at her to leave him, but she had insisted on bringing him with her. The man's clothes were bloodied, ripped and burnt in several places, the flesh beneath raw and charred. Natalia did not know the man's name and he had been unable to tell her.

Finally, she had made it to the escape pods. The ship that burned around her was not a large vessel and there were only a handful of pods to serve the crew. Here, there were just two. Both of them remained, none of the other crew - if any were still alive - having made it this far. Natalia had encountered numerous bodies along the way and it appeared that she and the man she had fought to bring with her were the last two people remaining alive on the ship.

The vessel gave a sudden, violent lurch, knocking Natalia off her feet. She struggled to stand as it continued to vibrate and shudder.

What the hell was that? she thought.

“... sh... ship's coming apart...” the voice of her unknown companion answered her thoughts, still lying on the floor where he had been deposited. Now that he appeared to be at least semi-conscious and talkative, Natalia hauled him over a bulkhead and, with some effort, managed to help him up into a sitting position. His breathing was heavy and rattling.

“... you've gotta get into... one of... those quickly,” he told her, gasping and staring at the escape pods. Natalia tried to help him stand, but he cried out in pain, pushing her away as best he could.

“Please, you have to get up!” she begged him.

“... i can't,” he whined back to her. “i can hardly... even breathe.” He looked into her eyes. “You have to go! Now!”

“No, I can't go on my own!”

“... if you don't leave soon... this ship will come apart... and you'll be sucked out into space... unless they decide to finish it off before then... you know they will... you, more than anyone... should know that... this... this ship is useless... to them now... they'll come for you when they're done with the others.”

Natalia knew he was right. The only reason their attackers had not destroyed the ship already was because they were tackling those who were still putting up a fight, and her own vessel was dead in the water. But as soon as they became aware that it was no longer usable, and not-at-all salvageable, they wouldn't hesitate to blow it to pieces.

“I can't go on my own,” Natalia repeated, tears streaming down her face. “I wouldn't know where to go or what to do. I've never flown a ship, let alone attempted to navigate in jump space.”

Through the flickering light, she could see a smile spread across the man's face. “... didn't... think you wanted me for my wit or good looks,” he said, attempting not to cough blood over her.

Natalia smiled back, though hers was filled with sadness. She knelt close to him and took his head in her hands, kissing him on the forehead.

“... in my top pocket is... my id card... please make sure it gets to my wife.”

“I will, I promise.” Natalia took the id card from him - it revealed his name to be David S. Porter - and slipped it into a zipped inner pocket of her jacket. She recalled the man now: he was always telling jokes to lift the spirits of all of those around him. He'd made her smile on a number of occasions.

She double-checked to ensure that all her other important data cards were safe and secure and still with her, before opening the door to one of the escape pods and stepping across the threshold. After everything that she had been through, she could not afford to get away only to leave all the reports behind. She could not remember all of what she had seen and done, and many others' hard work had been entrusted to her. She could not let them down.

From the rear doors, she could see straight through the pod to the cockpit windows at the front, the launch chutes of the main vessel open, revealing the vast emptiness of space beyond. It was then that she noticed the ship was spinning. Every now and again, scenes of the on-going battle would enter into her view, burnt-out debris from other craft tumbling by in the immediate outside space.

“... can you still see... the jumpgate?” she heard Porter ask behind her, his voice weak.

“Yes, yes I can,” Natalia replied. “But it looks like we're moving away from the entry point. I'm sure we were closer to it than that.”

“... it's not getting... further away... it's... getting smaller because it's closing... soon it will be unusable... you'll... have to hurry.”

Natalia hesitated. The thought of piloting a spacecraft, no matter what type, made her sick to her stomach; like attempting to cross a vast ocean, on a small raft using nothing but her own arms for paddles. Looking around the pod an idea struck her and she scampered back to Porter's side.

“... i can't come with you,” he managed again, as she tried to help him up once more.

“I can put you in one of the stasis capsules!” she enthused. “You'll be fine once you're under. And once we get to the other end, we can get you some medical assistance.”

Porter shook his head. “... those ones aren't... military-grade... they don't work like that... they just make you fall asleep... i'll die in there... and then you'll have to put up with a rotting corpse... until you get picked up.”

Natalia looked in anguish from her dying companion to the open pod.

“... the controls are clearly marked,” he assured her. “... the pods are designed to be simple to use... smart girl like you... should have no trouble working it out...” he coughed uncontrollably and there was more blood.

The ship rocked again, the shaking accompanied by a terrible grinding sound.

“Go!” Porter mustered enough strength to put emphasis on the word.

Natalia rushed back into the tiny, cramped pod, past the stasis capsules that lay like small beds opposite one another, and up to the front. She studied the control panel in the cockpit and discovered it was indeed very basic and straightforward. There was even a brass plate with engraved launch instructions on the main console. As Natalia looked out for the jump point a thought occurred to her.

“How can I reach the jump point with the ship spinning?” she asked, returning yet again to the pod's rear doors. David did not answer her; he was dead. The man's eyes were closed and he was slumped forward, quite still.

Natalia felt her heart rate increase, her breath coming quick. She was alone. Wasting no further time she hurried to the front of the pod and began working through the instructions on the plate one by one, pressing buttons and activating systems in the specified order. Behind her the rear doors closed and locked. As she continued various instruments sprang into life, screens and monitors lit up and started to tail system logs, statuses of essential parts and other texts. The final instructions on the engraved plate read,

Press 'Release' to release locking clasps

Press 'Launch' to fire engines

Ensure autopilot is engaged 100m from host vessel

Looking down the launch chute Natalia realised what she had to do and pressed the release button whilst studying the spinning scene outside. The now tiny jump point was coming into her view from bottom to top. The vessel was not spinning very fast, but her inexperience with starships had hit her confidence. She swore as she missed the second spin... and the third. On the fourth pass of the jump point, when it was more or less central in her view, Natalia pressed the launch button. She felt the engines engage and the pod shot forward. The jump point was now smaller than ever and she prayed that by the time she reached it, it would not have closed completely.

Looking behind