Dana Cartwright Mission 2: Lancer (25 page)

Dana heard someone behind her respond, “We’re running a special task, sir.”

McHale snarled, “Who authorized it?”

“Mister Cartwright, sir.”

Dana reached for the nearest COM switch, glancing at Ensign Landers as she spoke. “Commander McHale, I think you’d better come down here.”

She heard McHale groan, and then he must have cut the circuit. She estimated ten minutes.

Mackenna was at the second terminal, so totally absorbed in his project he seemed oblivious to her presence. She envied him and guessed Landers probably did, as well.

“Ensign, you’re dismissed. You needn’t stay. Commander McHale or I will be in touch.”

His relief and gratitude was less than overwhelming, Cartwright thought, as she watched him flee the station. He beat McHale’s arrival by half a minute.

Dana jumped up from the chair the instant McHale stepped inside. He took a cursory look around then stared in her direction. “This better be good.”

“Commander, I believe I have evidence showing that Chief Miller lied on the inspection reports of
Karis
. And, if my fears are correct, there’s a good chance they may crash when attempting a landing.”

McHale staggered backwards a step, with one fist clenched in rage and the other palm flat against the wall to keep himself steady. “You’re certain? You have proof?”

Cartwright nodded. “I have Mackenna working on a simulation in an attempt to determine what danger actually exists to the mission team.”

“Miller!” McHale muttered. “I’ve known him for years.”

Dana didn’t offer a response.

“Perhaps there’s an explanation…”

She studied McHale. He knew there wasn’t. She actually felt sorry. There is no worse feeling than being betrayed.

“Commander, if it comes down to a rescue mission, I’m on it,” she stated emphatically.

“Of course you are! Damn it, of course you are.” McHale shook his head then exited the control room.

If Mackenna minded her watching over his shoulder, he never let on to Dana. He never yelled for help, never took a break. The coffee she’d fetched went cold, untouched.

His dedication reminded her of DOC Cartwright. When she assisted in surgery, she’d witnessed that same single-mindedness of purpose — devotion to performance — above and beyond the call of duty.

Dana made a mental note of recommending Mackenna for a commendation and a promotion. He’d earned it. She might even suggest that his past ‘indiscretions’ be purged from his file. Star Service Operations frowned upon the practice, but if you had a mentor high enough in the echelon, it could be done.

Daniel Mackenna gave her a Cheshire grin. “It’s all done, Commander. Tested and debugged.” He gloated, happy it was complete. Dana Cartwright couldn’t muster that sort of emotion.

“And the results?”

“She won’t crash,” he announced, “if the pilot can keep her level. However, once down, they’re going nowhere. The stress on the hull will ground her permanently. With that much weight, they have no choice. They’ll be stranded.”

“Weight?” Dana puzzled.

Mackenna nodded.

Cartwright felt somewhat relieved.
 

“I’ve never flown a ship like her, ma’am,” Mackenna said, “but I’m certain anyone with experience could land her safely.”

She decided that Kieran was a good enough pilot to land
Karis
. “Weight?” She looked hard at Mackenna.
 

“All that gear they took,” Mackenna insisted.

Dana shook her head. “It was well within that ship’s limits.”

Mackenna seemed ready to argue.

She cut him off, “What have you flown?”

“F-20’s mostly and a few VIP yachts, everything on simulator I could possibly attempt.”

“That’s not in your record,” she mumbled.

“Before I entered academy,” he mused, “I did a lot of stunt flying. I’d never admit to it because I wasn’t… err, licensed at the time.”

Dana laughed. “Joy riding?”

“Something like that.”

Her spirits lifted. She patted his shoulder. “If I need a copilot, can I count on you?”

He nodded enthusiastically. “Anything to get out of the yeoman pool.”

She sat back to formulate a plan.

He quickly picked up on her thinking. “You’re going after the Captain — a rescue mission — right? Where’s the F-20? A shuttle craft isn’t even close to one.”

“There’s one on the shuttle deck.
Trader One
- an Alphan Blade-Class shuttle… Manual flight controls only. The autopilot was…” She broke off, worried about revealing too many details. Too late for that now… “The autopilot was sabotaged.”

And wasn’t Chief Miller the officer with access just before? And he had all the necessary knowledge…of course, he did.

Cartwright jumped up from the chair and dashed for the door. “Take a break, Mackenna,” she called. “You’ve earned it.”

Chief McHale had Miller by the throat when Cartwright rushed onto the shuttle deck. She screamed for him to stop and physically tugged on him to pull him away. “McHale!”

Miller sank to his knees, gasping as McHale took a step backward.

Dana, however, didn’t give Miller opportunity to recover before drilling him with questions. “Why did you sabotage the little trader? And
Karis
? Why?”

Miller rasped, “I don’t have to answer you!” He was rubbing his neck. “Or him!” He growled at McHale. “Assaulting an officer!”

“You won’t live till your court-martial if you don’t!” She hissed, the stiletto was in her left hand with the blade menacingly pressed against his neck, drawing tiny beads of blood where it touched his skin.

“Don’t,” Miller begged, eyes wide in terror. He tried to squirm away, but McHale had him trapped.

Dana eased off the pressure, but kept the blade where he could see it.

“I did it to cover up.”

“Cover up what?” Dana pressed.

“The smuggling…Gordie, Sam, Ken, Dan and I have…we’ve been dealing contraband. Had to stop the mission before the Captain put an end to it. Or at least delay…”

“Gordie, too?” Her pitch jumped an octave. “Janz trusted him implicitly.”

“The Captain knew,” Miller rasped.

Dana’s hand fell away.

McHale bellowed an anguished, “No!” protesting the news. “Captain Macao couldn’t have known.”

Miller rebutted, “He had to. Gordie was feeding him gems for the life-star in exchange for overlooking our activities.”

Disbelief turned to despair. Dana scowled, “That makes Janz Macao an accessory to the crimes.”

McHale pounded his fist against the side of the little shuttle craft.

“What about Mansfield? Is he in on it, too?” Dana demanded.

“No! Gordie figured you were SSID. He egged Mansfield against you to throw you off the track. Jim’s as straight as they come; too straight to have joined up with us.”

Dana turned to McHale, saw the wounded look upon his face, but could offer him no comfort. She returned the stiletto to its sheath and left the shuttle deck with her eyes downcast, leaving McHale to deal with Miller.

Her frown deepened to a grimace the closer she got to the Captain’s quarters. The lock was set but she easily overrode it as Acting First Officer. The life-star was illumined, glowing in multicolored brilliance.

When she stood before it, tears welled up. They finally broke free and streamed down her cheeks. She sank weakly onto the edge of the bunk, incapable of pulling herself together; the disappointment proved far too incapacitating for her to move.

Janz Macao had to have known. Each jewel upon the life-star shouted out his guilt. That only one hollow place remained confirmed the truth. He knew!
 

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

A half-hour later, McHale entered and stood beside her. “Miller and Nishada are both in detention.”

Cartwright nodded absently.

“I still can’t believe that…Captain Macao would just…” McHale mumbled. “I’ve served with him all these years and…” The thought trailed off. He stared at the life-star.

“What do we do now, Commander?” Dana wondered.

McHale groaned and heaved a sigh. “I’m open to recommendations?”

“Go after them? We can’t let them get away with this,” she decided.
 

“You mean rescue them? How do you rescue someone who doesn’t want to be rescued? How do you convince them to come back and face…”

“Do we dare put
Lancer
in that area? I don’t think so,” Dana worried. “They know we won’t.”

“We have orders to rendezvous.”

“We have orders to return to Four,” Dana countered.

McHale swore. “You could go after them with the shuttle.” He frowned, “It’s against regulations to take a shuttle out with the autopilot malfunctioning, but…”

“Mackenna says he can copilot.”

“I was thinking Mansfield, if you drop the assault charges.”

Dana resisted, “I didn’t file them. The Captain did. Only he…” Dana broke off the thought. McHale’s suggestion was the second time a Mansfield supporter had attempted to manipulate her.

“Mansfield deserves his time in detention,” she reminded. And, perhaps, the smugglers on the team deserved their fate, as well.
 

Was that Kieran’s point? Was it ‘too dangerous’ a mission because these men were not intending to make it back? They were better ‘lost in action’ as heroes than face a court-martial.

McHale had moved to the doorway. He ordered, “We need a briefing. Gather a team.”
 

She nodded. “How much do we tell them, Commander?”

“Everything they need to know…fifteen minutes, Briefing Room One.”

After McHale exited, she approached the life-star. Dana considered the one small space left unfilled — one small, empty space. She pulled out the stiletto. The ruby on its pommel was just the size to fit.

“So the decision is mine,” Dana told it, lamenting, “Do I buy his freedom with this little gem. Do I save his life, only for him to lose it again? Duty doesn’t mix with love… Duty? Tradition? Freedom?”

The ruby came easily out from the setting.

At the briefing, Dana told the whole story, and then stood back to review the faces. Mackenna was too anxious, in contrast to her own reservations about the rescue mission.
 

In the third chair, Ensign Landers was captivated,
 
reviewing Mackenna’s handiwork.

McHale sat at the far chair, the captain’s chair. “This mission,” he emphasized, “has one purpose only — to rescue all members of the team and return them to
Lancer
. No heroics — no try for completion of the original mission. Is that thoroughly understood?”

That last comment was aimed at her, Dana knew, because McHale still believed his mistaken notion that she was SSID. The time to set him straight would come after their return to Four.

“At all times remember, you have only manual controls. Heads up. Eyes open.” McHale stood, “Good luck... Dismissed.”

His gaze touched on her before he left the briefing room, eyes full of mixed emotions. McHale was struggling with his conscience, too.

Dana lingered as the others filed out.
 

Jay Gordon, Sam Ehrmann, Dan Nichols and Janz Macao…four smugglers out of all the team members.

What about Doctor Grant? Where would his loyalties lie? And wouldn’t Carl Bryant’s go to Janz. He’d served the Captain long enough.
 
And wouldn’t the two security officers side with Gordie?

Dana shut her eyes. What about Kieran? Would he protect his brother? Or would he be a target?

She could imagine his face when she, Mackenna and Landers arrived with the little shuttle. He would not be pleased that she’d risked her life. And, he would not be pleased if she interfered with his mission.

She felt a duty, a sense of right and wrong.

The team members didn’t deserve to die on a forgotten rock far from Republic territory. Yet, they would face court-martial. At least they could tell their side of the story and, perhaps, justify their actions.

Then she dared to wonder, what if… What if they don’t want to come back?
 

Janz Macao knew her marksmanship record. They might…

Tactics!
 

Dana remembered how the Captain had charged she was not trained for military tactics…
 

Well, he didn’t know half of her training. He didn’t know that she had passed the EVA-Stress Evaluation first try, which very few cadets ever managed to do.

Landers ended the simulation and patted Mackenna on the shoulder. “That is one hell of a program. Do you really think we’re going to find them grounded at their first refueling stop?”

Mackenna sighed. “The first time they try for a landing, the whole system will shut down on them. They’re so overweight, they’ll land hard, really hard. It’d be weeks of repairs before she’ll fly again, if at all.”

“Mister Cartwright?” Landers called, shaking Dana out of her planning mode. “You know, I feel partially responsible for this; so I want to thank you for allowing me to be on the rescue team.”

“Ensign,” she nodded in his direction, “just make sure that
Trader One
is fit to get us all home.”

“Aye, sir, no jury-rigging this time.”

He and Mackenna started for the door.

“Ma’am?”

This time Mackenna spoke up. “Thanks for getting me out of the yeomen’s pool.”

“Hope you can say that after this is over,” Dana said. She didn’t laugh, but forced a smile. “Carry on.”

Too much seemed left to chance, yet Dana felt a growing confidence that all would end well. Still, she headed down to the infirmary to procure the medical instruments and supplies she hoped she would not need. After her last meeting with Doctor Patel, this had the feel of camaraderie. He repeated his wish to go with them, but since he was not, he offered a med-kit nearly as complete as those she’d hefted as an EMT. It brought back memories of her time at Medical Center East.
 

Patel wished her luck and sent her on her way.

Dana returned to her quarters to add a few more things to her flight bag. Mackenna had procured civilian clothing for them all, simple flight suits, like the one she’d worn as a Mech-Tech at Four before she came aboard.