Bad Boy Romance: Bad Marine (Bad Boy Military Romance) (Alpha Bad Boy New Adult Contemporary Male Stories) (29 page)

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              Parsecs away, the Xerxes Supernova Remnant blossomed into view on the forward monitor of the bridge.  Sitting in the command set, Reyna thought back on all the other nebulae and other such formations she had seen in her years in space.  Each one had been as beautiful and haunting a sight as the last, rippling and twisting through light-years of void with their glowing curtains of gas and dust in every color, strewn and dappled and interspersed with stars, and in many cases giving birth to new stars.  For centuries nebulae had been known as nests and nurseries where hydrogen was pressed into stars that wandered out into space, often giving birth to planets and life.  Every time she had visited a place like this, she had felt as though she were on the threshold of the womb of creation, from which who knew what worlds and beings might one day emerge.  Xerxes had the shape of a bent and twisted hourglass of blue, green, and reddish gases, the after-death of a star that flung out its mass until nothing was left but a spinning mass of super-dense neutrons, flashing and beating like a cosmic heartbeat.  And somewhere in this tableau of potential life from death was a stricken spaceship on the brink of a death of its own:  for even if the Space Urchins would not brave the depths of the nebula where the pulsar spun, the inconceivable gravity and radiation of the pulsar itself would surely doom the
Morrow
and any soul that may yet survive on board.

              Snapping her attention back to the business a hand, Reyna called, "Helm, present distance from the Remnant?"

              "Now passing within one AU," said the man at the Helm.

              Casting a glance at the Orionite, Reyna commanded, "Give me a check of external shielding."

              The antennaed blonde reported, "Shields at maximum efficiency, Captain."

              "Good," said Reyna softly.  An official Earth Commonwealth craft such as the
Aureole
had stronger shielding than a prospecting craft, less prone to power fluctuations such as those that left Captain Callum's ship so vulnerable and better able to withstand attacks.  But Reyna became a Captain of the Stellar Guard by knowing what chances to take and when and how to take them, and she had the authority to pull out of any situation, regardless of orders, when she deemed the risk to her crew too great to go forward.  With the Space Urchins lurking in the glowing curtains before her and a pulsar spinning in the depths beyond them, she chose to calculate her risks exactly.

              "Helm," she ordered, "proceed forward at best sub-light velocity.  Comm, put out a hail into the Remnant.  Let's see if we can raise the
Morrow
and determine their status."

              "Aye, Captain," replied the Comm Officer as the ship forged ahead into the shimmering expanse.

              Minutes flew by with the flight of the
Aureole.
  Reyna watched the screen for any visual sign of the lone vessel--or any part of it, or any discharge of energy or plasma from it; anything to indicate what awaited them.  She kept her eyes forward with lips creased, until the woman at Comm announced, "Inbound transmission.  We have a response, Captain.  Visual and audio."

              Grasping the arms of her chair anxiously, Reyna ordered, "On screen."

              The view on the forward monitor distorted into a screen full of video noise, accompanied by a crackle of static, until it cleared--at least partly--into a flickering and striated picture of what was obviously the bridge of the
SS Morrow
, from which a familiar face looked out.  Ty Callum was alone on his bridge.  Surrounding him were ruptured fixtures and control stations in various states of usability, some of them issuing sparks and pops of energy.  Reyna found him as handsome here as he was in the picture on his ship's stats.  His stained uniform top was open, exposing a torn T-shirt, and he wore the look of a man trying not to appear as desperate as he was, which Reyna respected and understood.  Whether in the service of the Commonwealth or his own personal fortune, a Captain, in the end, was a Captain.

              Reyna leaned forward in her seat to address him.  "This is Captain Reyna Talbot of the
SS Aureole.
  We're here to lend assistance and whatever aid you need.  And I'm speaking to..."

              He finished for her, knowing she was already aware.  "Captain Ty Callum,
SS Morrow.
  And we'll take whatever aid you can give.  Let me see if I can send you our exact coordinates; you might not be able to pinpoint us through all that out there."

              "Standing by, Captain," Reyna said.

              Ty Callum looked down to one arm of his chair.  Reyna waited for him to press some surfaces on the interface there, and in a moment she heard the Comm Officer call, "Receiving coordinates of the
Morrow,
Captain.  I'm sending them to the Helm."

              The Helm officer watched his panel while the image of Callum on the screen looked back up.  "Acknowledging coordinates; I've got a lock on them," called the Helmsman.

              "Can you give us your status, Captain Callum?" asked Reyna.

              "Not good," said Callum bluntly.  "We've taken some casualties.  I've ordered surviving crew to the engine deck and the emergency evacuation ports and cut all power to everything but hull integrity, life support, and whatever engine power will help us resist the gravity of the pulsar--for now.  But we're a good way's into the Remnant, we've got Urchins on board working their way through the ship's structure and chewing up everything in their path, and we're blasting them and killing them where we find them.  But we frankly haven't got much time left.  Go for my crew first and save me last, if you can."

              Reyna opened her mouth to respond, but before she could get a word out, the transmission fizzled harshly into another screen full of static and was gone.  Frustrated, Reyna clamped her jaw shut.  She leaned back hard into her seat, muttering, "Damn."  Though Reyna still held her general opinion about the undeniably handsome Callum as a prospector--he was an opportunist--she thought he seemed to be at least a good Captain and a decent and responsible man, putting the welfare of his crew before the interstellar gold and other cosmic plunder that they entered the nebula to collect.  Then again, she thought, a life-and-death situation will always change a man's priorities at least until he was out of danger.  Never mind the relative morality of the situation; Callum and his people were in trouble and she was there to help.

              She called out, "Helm, maintain best speed for the coordinates of the
Morrow.
  Ops, signal Condition Yellow."  And Reyna kept her eyes fixed on her screen while the Condition Yellow sound trilled through the ship and the
Aureole
continued further on into the glowing curtains of Xerxes.

              They had not gone far when the situation changed.  Towards the bottom right of the screen, a shape appeared, dark against the multicolored, glowing ripples of the supernova remnant, and discharging a glowing plume of its own from its middle.  "We have visual," reported the Helmsman."

              "I see it," said Reyna.  "They're venting plasma.  We're going to have to move fast.  Comm, signal Emergency Responders to be ready to board that ship and start getting people out, guns set for heavy disruption; they know what we're up against."

              "Signaling Emergency Responders," answered the Orionite.

              Reyna called to Tactical, "Stand by on cannons."

              "Standing by," answered the red-skinned crewman.

              "Steady as she goes," ordered Reyna.  "And look sharp, everyone."

              The ship went steady on.  The distant shape of the stricken
Morrow
gradually grew larger in the viewer.  The minutes ticked by...

              And then, seemingly from nowhere, something swept into view.  It appeared to loom up from the direction of the ship's keel, emerging from the nebular clouds below them.  It streaked directly for the ship, hit the forward shields, and stayed there, as if splattered like an insect on the windshield of an old Earth automobile.  There was a rumbling sound, and the
Aureole
lurched and shook with the impact.  The image on the monitor flickered.  The lad at Sciences said, "Space Urchin attached to forward shields, Captain.  Forward shields are in flux."

              "Obviously," said Reyna, trying not to sound as if she were chiding the youth for stating what everyone could clearly see.  "It's trying to drain off enough power to get to the outer hull."  She gritted her teeth at the creature, feeling generations of loathing that all the spacefarers before her had held for these creatures.  Adhering to the shell of energy at the bow of the
Aureole
was a glowing, bulbous mass with a whirlpool-like pit of darkness at its front end, corresponding to a hungry mouth.  It had four appendages, two on either end, with the effect of grasping, leg-like claws; and a glittering, comet-like tail spewing from its rear and into space.  The energy of the forward shields continued to flicker and sparkle in resistance to the attachment of the Urchin, which would continue eating energy until it got through to matter--if it were allowed.

              Reyna clutched the arms of her command seat, knowing full well that the presence of one Urchin promised a swarm to follow behind it.  "Battle stations, Red Alert!" she cried.  "Arm the cannons; we're going all the way in!" 

              Over the years ship designers had devised different methods of dealing with the Space Urchins.  Reyna knew it was time to call out one of them.

              "Tactical!" she called.  "Set forward shields for a repulse charge." 

              The Proximan at the Tactical station quickly complied.  "On my count," Reyna commanded.  "Five...four..."  The shielding of Stellar Patrol craft could be stepped up to an increased power level and the increased charge could thus be channeled in a specific direction or to a specific spot.  Tactical set the increased charge to be concentrated on forward shields to dislodge the
Aureole's
unwelcome, hungry rider.  When Reyna called out, "...One!" the Tactical Officer hit a command surface and there came a crackling whine on the bridge.  On the forward viewer, a sudden, brilliant flash of light erupted as the signature of the repulse charge.  The Space Urchin attached to the energy screen throbbed from its maw to its tail, but held fast.  "Again!" called Reyna.  Another slap of the Tactical Officer's panel unleashed another pulse, and the bridge was again filled with a burst of radiance.  Once more the Space Urchin throbbed and pulsed violently and almost seemed to slip, but still it clung to the blister of energy surrounding the ship. 

              Reyna scowled at it:  "Damn you, get the hell off my ship!"  To Tactical she barked, "One more time!"  The Proximan hit the control yet again, and again the light burst flooded the bridge.  This time the Space Urchin throbbed, pulsed--and went flying back.  It spun and flailed away into the space of the supernova remnant--but it still lived.  Instantly Reyna commanded Tactical, "Set cannons for maximum strike!  Fire at will!" 

              In space outside, the Urchin halted its uncontrolled spinning flight and righted itself, then zeroed in on the
Aureole
once more.  It launched itself forward at the ship--and a heartbeat later it was met with a bolt of energy from the
Aureole's
forward cannon.  The pulser beam did its job, slicing the creature in two and reducing it to a cloud of whirling sparks.

              On the bridge, the Helmsman eyed his station and reported, "Multiple inbound targets from multiple directions." 

              Reyna noded curtly, "Our friend's brothers and sisters are coming in for a bite, which they're not getting.  Helm, set evasive course for the
Morrow
and continue best speed.  Tactical, arm all cannons and continue firing at will.  Let's move!" 

              The officers carried out their orders as fast as they were given.  The
Aureole
forged ahead on an arcing path, set to swerve and detour as necessary.  From all sides came the glowing forms of the Space Urchins, plasma tails propelling them on multiple courses, all of them aimed at the Patrol ship.