Homeworld (Odyssey One) (81 page)

N.A.C.S.
ODYSSEY

ERIC RAISED ONE eyebrow, looking at his second in command curiously. “Nuts?”

Roberts, the former Army Ranger, shrugged. “Seemed traditional.”

“As you say,” Eric chuckled. “Give me a private channel to the admiral.”

“Aye, sir, channel open.”

“Admiral, the
Odyssey
can no longer make FTL. We cannot fall back,” he said, taking a breath. “The
Odyssey
will cover for any evacuation you need to make. Send people to the
Enterprise
or the Priminae ships. They’ll get you out, ma’am.”

He closed the comm, tired and feeling heavy suddenly.

“Are you certain about this, sir?”

Eric glanced at Roberts and nodded, “Yes. You’ll evacuate with the rest when I give the order. They’ll need you to keep things from going to hell.”

“You can’t run this ship alone, sir.”

“Not for very long,” Eric admitted, “but I don’t need very long.”

Roberts frowned. “I don’t follow, sir.”

“Don’t worry about it. I have one last ace up my sleeve.” Eric smiled weakly as he got up. “In fact, I think I’ll go see about dealing it out now.”

Roberts watched him leave, perplexed, but not willing to spend any more time on the issue. They all had more important things to figure out than their captain’s idiosyncrasies.

On the Liberty, Gracen listened to the short message with angry, pursed lips. She didn’t like it, but at this point what was she going to do? Put him up on charges?

Lord, has
that
ship sailed.

“All hands, this is the admiral speaking,” she said into a station wide channel. “Proceed with evacuations as planned, but head for the edge of cislunar space where you will be picked up by the
Enterprise
or one of our Priminae allies. From there your commanding officers will provide more directions. Thank you and good luck. Admiral Gracen out.”

“Admiral, the enemy is closing within our outer perimeter.”

“Yes,” she nodded. “They do tend to prefer getting up close and personal with their kills when they can, don’t they?”

That was in the reports, she remembered. She’d almost forgotten, since most of the reports involving the
Odyssey
never gave the enemy ships that chance. Not after the first time they allowed them close and were nearly killed by some kind of unknown close-range weapon.

Since then, Weston had made a point of dealing with the enemy ships at as long a range as possible without exception.

Well, Liberty doesn’t move like that I’m afraid, so let them come.

“Admiral.”

Gracen looked over her shoulder, blinking in surprise to recognize Commodore Wolfe standing behind her.

“I thought you were on the ground, Commodore.”

He shrugged. “What can I say? Couldn’t leave the action twice in a row. Bad enough giving those bastards Barsoom.”

“Well you’re not getting a choice now,” she growled. “Get down to the shuttle hangar and grab the next bird off this tin can. We’re about to have a very bad day here.”

“Yeah, I guessed that much,” the older man shrugged, looking over her shoulder at the screens. “’Bout as bad a day as it gets.”

“Quite.”

“I’d say that your job is done here, Admiral,” Wolfe suggested. “Someone else can handle the rest.”

“My job will be done shortly. There’s one more thing left,” she said, not bothering to turn around.

“Yeah,” he said. “There’s a problem with that. You’ve been ignoring messages from the chief.”

“Not your concern, nor place,” she replied without so much as a glance over her shoulder. “This is where I belong.”

“Admiral, you belong where the fight is. That isn’t here anymore, not for you,” he said from
much
closer than she’d thought.

Gracen started to turn around, but a hissing sound made her look down to where a cold object was pressed into her neck. She immediately felt the dizzy sensation of something clouding her mind and body and began to pitch sideways.

Wolfe caught her, looking around at the younger officers who were all staring at him in shock.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” he demanded. “The admiral needs a hand to get to the shuttles.”

“Sir!” one stiffened on reflex and rushed over.

“Just one second,” Wolfe said, tapping in a series of commands to the computer.

“Command change requires voice authorization from the commander of record,” the computer told him.

“Of course it does.” Wolfe tapped in another set of commands.

A keyboard dock slid out, along with a hand scanner.

“Override procedures activated. Provide identification.”

He placed the admiral’s limp hand on the scanner and waited until the computer moved on to the next step before producing a card from his pocket and snapping it in half. After typing in the numbers that were printed on the paper inside his card, he fished an identical one from the admiral and repeated the process.

“Command change accepted. Welcome, Commodore Wolfe.”

Wolfe looked around, then nodded to the admiral. “Get her to a shuttle, get on it yourself, and get to the
Enterprise
.”

“Y-yes sir.”

Wolfe looked around. “That goes for all of you! Move!”

Men and women moved, rushing from the war room as Wolfe stepped into the admiral’s station and checked the status of the weapons. Everything was running on automatic now; most of the stores were depleted and they’d soon be out of munitions entirely.

Lady knows how to throw a party,
he thought with a melancholy admiration.

Wolfe opened a channel, “Liberty to
Odyssey
. We are preparing to launch the last wave of evacuees. Would appreciate any cover you can provide.”

It took a few seconds for the message to get to the
Odyssey
, and a few seconds to get back, but their reply was swift all the same.

“Roger, Liberty.
Odyssey
will be on station in five minutes.”

“We’ll hold out. Just don’t be late,” he said, then closed the channel entirely.

N.A.C.S.
ODYSSEY

ERIC STEPPED BACK onto the bridge, not something really surprising given the situation. What made everyone pause for a moment and look was the fact that he was wearing his flight suit.

Not the vacuum suits issued to ship personnel for emergencies. No, he was wearing the high-acceleration flight suit of the Archangel squadron. On the bridge of the
Odyssey
, that still drew a few looks.