Savage World (Babel Series Book 1) Read online

  “The Rutherford!” he called out finally. “Head for the Rutherford! She's taken damage but she's still flying. I'm feeding the coordinates into the nav!”

  Jules wasn't listening, she was concentrating on avoiding the debris of other ships destroyed by the unexpected flares of their dying sun. Pieces of hull, whole sections, and pylons tumbled through space, hurtling at speeds that would destroy the hopper completely if struck. For the average onlooker, the craft navigated the debris field with drunken bobs, weaves and rolls but any pilot would recognise the precision flying necessary to achieve this.

  When the Asquith exploded, it didn't need to be seen. It was felt.

  The shockwave hit the tiny hopper from behind. Jules was thrown forward hard in her harness, as something hit the back of her flight helmet. She wasn't sure how, but she managed to keep both hands on the controls even as Chuck's body slammed into the cockpit window with an audible crunch before rolling off the console to crumple on the floor.

  Jules glanced long enough to see his head bent at an unnatural angle and his bloody skull visible under a flap of destroyed skin hanging off his forehead. In horror, she looked at the window, barely comprehending the red smear where he'd made contact.

  “CHUCK!”

  * * *

  Chuck Ferris had been her co-pilot from the moment she crawled into her first Zephyr. He was her best friend. She stood up with him at his wedding and would later break the news to his husband, Michael. She remembered having to wipe her tears and keep flying through the shockwave of debris and fire to reach the Rutherford because, even as Chuck lay dead on the deck of the cockpit, she had a job to do.

  She landed on the Rutherford with the hopper and its passengers surviving the journey only to learn the ship was without a captain. The explosion that took the Asquith had also obliterated the command deck of the Rutherford. Upon managing to dock on the Ruthie, she was informed that most of the senior staff had been on the bridge. Before she could consider her actions, Jules was running towards Engineering, shouting orders to reroute command functions so she could get the ship under control and stay with the fleet to make the jump.

  Somehow, with the help of a few terrified ensigns and one lieutenant, Jules had managed to set the Rutherford back on course to join the rest of the fleet heading towards the Ribbon.

  When it was all said and done, Lt. Commander Juliana Curran, formerly of the US Zephyr flight wing was made Captain of the AS Rutherford.

  She didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

  * * *

  She opened her eyes and found herself staring at the ceiling. The heat she could almost feel a second ago was replaced by cool, if somewhat stale air. Blinking once or twice to chase away the images of that terrible day, she sat up in her bed and scanned the room surrounding her like Alice waking up in Wonderland.

  “Captain Curran?”

  Already awake, the lit intercom over the bed prompted her to sit up in her bunk and reach for the light switch. The glare of light made her squint as her hand moved away from the switch to find the one allowing her to respond to the com.

  “Here.”

  “Captain, General Shang is calling a vidcon in thirty minutes. You asked me to wake you?”

  “Yep. Thanks. I'll be on deck in fifteen.” That wouldn't be enough time to shower but Jules, like the rest of the fleet, was not wasting water. As Captain, she supposed she was 'entitled' to a shower when she wanted without the constraints of a schedule, but as a person? No, she wouldn't use water like that when the Rutherford's seven hundred survivors had to ration theirs.

  Sitting up, she winced when something sharp scraped her hand. Lifting the sheet, Jules looked down when something thumped onto the carpeted deck. It took her a second to remember what it was. A clear framed photograph. She'd fallen asleep looking at it the night before. Bending over, Jules scooped it up and gazed at it for a moment. Emotion filled her as she took in her father's face next to her own. She was in her dress uniform and he looked like the rumpled, absent-minded English professor he was, even in his best suit. God, she missed him!

  “Captain Curran?”

  Nearly jumping at the sound, Jules shot a glare at the speaker over her bed. “I said I'm on my way.”

  “Captain, the vidcon has been moved up fifteen minutes. It just came over the links. There's a lag in the signal.”

  Of course, there was. During the journey through the Ribbon, the Rutherford's dish boosters were sheared off by the gravimetric turbulence. Replacing them was out of the question until their industrial fabricators were up and running.

  “All right. I'm coming…” Jules returned the frame to the small crate serving as her bedside table before hastily getting dressed. Grabbing a brush, she swept the stringy mess into a ponytail.

  It would have to do until she got her allotted shower.

  * * *

  “Is there coffee?” Jules asked when she entered the bridge. Her aide, a Chinese Navy junior officer named Wei Xin, presented a cup almost immediately. “I'll be in the office.” She held up the warm mug to him as thanks and headed to the tiny room off the Command Deck.

  Once inside the room, (more like a closet), Jules dropped into the old leather seat kept by the previous captain. Through some trick of engineering, this little room had survived the emergency decompression months earlier and still held memoirs of the previous captain. She hadn't the heart to get rid of anything. Just like she hadn't really packed up his things in her bunk. Initially, she bunked with some of the other officers until one of the other ship captains convinced her she would need the privacy offered by the Captain's quarters. She hoped the crew didn't resent her for that.

  Bringing up the vidcon system, Jules punched in her passcode. After a moment and three chirps, the words 'YOU ARE NOW JOINING THE VIDEO CONFERENCE' flashed on the screen.

  “Curran,” she greeted simply.

  “Good morning, Jules,” Admiral Lian Shang, commander of the Space Corps stared back at her.

  Lian, like Juliana Curran, arrived at her position a full decade earlier than expected. A career officer in the People's Republic Air Division, Lian was the highest-ranking officer left after their flight from Earth. Like General Connor who ruled the Sharks, Lian performed the same duty as commander of the Space Corps, with both branches commanded by Field Marshal Anisimov.

  A classic beauty, with pronounced cheekbones and full lips, she was often mistaken for being soft when in truth, she had more in common with granite than flesh.

  “Good morning, Admiral,” Jules smiled at the other woman tightly. One of these days, maybe she'd want to take the liberty of using first names, but not right now. Besides, Shang looked like Jules felt: tired, in need of a hot shower, ready to scream, kill something, or all the above. “Are we waiting for anyone else?”

  “No, it's just us,” Lian replied with a relieved sigh. She did not wish to deal with that báichī SHARC General right now. The English - we did not kill enough of them in the Boxer Rebellion.

  “General Connor is already in communication with your Shark counterpart on board the Rutherford. As you know, the Olympus has just entered Gaia's orbit. The planet is everything we hoped it would be and appears to be more than capable of supporting human life. Naturally the Assembly would like a survey team on the planet as soon as possible, supported by a Shark team from the Rutherford.”

  “Major Merrick, yes,” Jules nodded. They'd met briefly in the early days of her captaincy when she was forced to run the Ruthie from Engineering. Amid the chaos of engineers, crewmen and command staff tripping over each other, he'd introduced himself and the only thing Jules could remember of the man was the accent.

  “That's good news about Gaia. Let's hope that it doesn't turn into another Andromeda,” she muttered under her breath.

  Fifty years ago, before she was even born, humans tried to leave the solar system to colonise a moon in Alpha Centauri. On board the colony ship Andromeda, the journey took almost two years, with the crew bein
g in regular communication with Earth during that time. A month after its arrival, in what would be the last communication, a Code Black was transmitted.

  Do Not Rescue. Do Not Attempt Recovery.

  Because of that transmission, no one knew what happened. When a probe was finally in range to scan the planet, there was no trace of the colony. Now, 'Andromeda' was used for the unknown, for things that went missing. People tended to forget, even now, space wasn't safe.

  “Yes,” Lian frowned. Their first and only attempt at interstellar colonisation. She hoped this effort turned out a good deal better than that. “In any case, you will provide them with a pilot and a hopper to rendezvous with the Olympus to pick up the Science Team for the survey mission.”

  Then, as an afterthought, she added. “If you feel like a field trip, you could go yourself. I wouldn't mind having another set of eyes on the ground. Besides, command of the operation has been given to the survey team, which means the Sharks are going to be at their charming best. You could provide a buffer between the two to make this expedition go smoother.”

  Jules chuckled, fed by a flare of excitement deep in her gut, and knew an opportunity when she saw it. A trip planet side? Hell yeah!

  “You have a talent for understatement, Admiral.” Her smile cracked a little wider. “I can be your eyes and ears as well as keep the peace. When do we leave?”

  “1100 hours,” Lian was glad to see Jules was pleased by this. There was so little reason for anyone to be happy about anything these days. “The Shark Major should be reporting to you soon.” She paused a moment and collected her thoughts. “Have you had much dealing with the Sharks, Jules?”

  “Just their American predecessors and only briefly.” Jules's brow knitted. “Fighter pilots are a lot of bluster and bravado, Admiral. Marines can't be any worse.”

  Lian's silence spoke volumes.

  * * *

  Tom had yet to visit the new bridge.

  In truth, he wasn't really that interested in seeing it. One bridge looked no different from any other and, frankly, it was Fleet territory, not his. Furthermore, reaching it would mean having to get through several decks of crowded people and that was more than he could stomach right now. Besides, any message relayed to him from the Captain of this boat could be done by an underling.

  He'd met the bird once, paid his respects to her after she'd been promoted. Not that it was much of a meeting. The bridge was still buggered after the hull breach, so command functions continued to be rerouted through Engineering while repairs were being made. He'd showed up after a burst conduit had sprayed coolant everywhere. What conversation they shared was brief. She was covered in the stuff, swearing a blue streak and thoroughly unimpressed.

  Since the last thing Tom wanted to deal with was 'pissed off woman', he got out of there quick smart.

  As expected, the overcrowding on route to the bridge was just as bad as it was on the deck occupied by the Sharks. He also realised there were memorial walls on every deck, a painful reminder of the billions they were unable to save. Tom couldn't bring himself to think of the exact number. The sheer size of the loss would overwhelm him, and he was already drowning in guilt at the loss of one person. There was not enough alcohol in the fleet to mute the scream of billions in his dreams.

  Since his security clearance gave him access to all the restricted parts of the ship, he could enter the bridge without difficulty. Stepping onto the central hub of the Rutherford, it took only a cursory glance across the work stations and command chair to see the Fleeters were just as mentally exhausted as his Sharks down in the Cave.

  At the sound of the door, Jules glanced up from her aide. She had one finger against another, as if she was ticking off a mental checklist. She nodded curtly to the Shark Major and turned back to Wei. “I want Lieutenants McRae and Xu on standby. Did you notify the CMO?”

  “Yes, Captain,” Wei bobbed his head, fingers tapping away on his slate.

  Tom did not immediately speak when she'd nodded at him because he was too busy blinking furiously, clearing the apathy from his eyes. Staring at the woman in the command chair, he was trying to process the realisation this was the same harridan he saw in engineering months ago. When he'd encountered her then, it was in the worst possible light but now it was as if he was seeing her for the first time.

  Christ, she was bloody beautiful!

  For months after their first meeting, they communicated through the ship's links, never with a visual, due to power restrictions. Their conversations were all very professional, occasionally tense, but they led to him forming an image of some no-nonsense career woman with a stick up her arse. What he did not expect to find was a dark-haired beauty with warm sultry features, flawless bronzed skin and Audrey Hepburn eyebrows arched over stunning brown eyes.

  How the fuck was he supposed to manage any intelligent discourse when his first instinct was to ask her out for a drink? Who was he kidding? His first impulse would be to ask if she fancied a quick tumble in his supply closet. Guessing rightly that classy sheilas like this didn't take too kindly to such requests, Tom also reminded himself pointedly she was a captain and his superior officer.

  That was hot too.

  “Captain Curran,” Tom slipped on his game face, avoiding the urge to look her over, to see if there was a body as equally stunning as the rest of her. “I'm assuming you got the orders assigning my Sharks to the squints going to Gaia? We'll be needing a hopper to get to the rendezvous point.”

  “I did.” Jules dismissed Wei with a nod and finally turned her attention to him. This was the same man she met in engineering? How did she only remember his accent and not the lean, hardened body of a career soldier or the intense, hazel eyes? He was all bad-boy grit and swagger, the kind that made your Latina mother curse and your English Lit professor father think about dusting off the old 12-gauge.

  And the way he was staring at her? Was Space Corps that different of a species? Maybe it was old prejudices, Navy/Marines, American/British? Whichever it was, she felt pinned by his stare. In an effort to take back control, she indicated the bread box off the command deck. “Would you join me in my office?”

  “You have an office?” Tom blurted before he could stop himself. He cursed inwardly not wanting her to know how envious he was she had an office. The only reason he had any private space was because he threatened a janitor with bodily harm.

  Of all the questions he could have asked, that one actually embarrassed Jules. Probably because she was hypersensitive about the privileges the rank of Captain got her. “It's more of a closet, but yes.”

  She was pretty sure it's original purpose had been a closet until someone realised a CO would need someplace private to conduct confidential matters. Stepping into the room after activating the panel that slid the doors apart with a hydraulic hiss, Jules slipped behind her desk as the Shark followed her in.

  In here, she could smell freshly showered man (her favourite smell) and was reminded just how long it had been since she'd been intimate with anyone. Kicking herself, Jules shut those thoughts down. How could she think about something so selfish in this situation? Clearing her throat and her head, she decided to start off with the news that would rankle him the most.

  “I will be flying the hopper to the planet.” Anticipating an argument, Jules continued quickly. “Admiral Lian briefed me on the mission. I want you to know I am just the pilot. It's still your mission.”

  Under normal circumstances, Tom might have been annoyed by it, but his brain was still recalibrating after being confronted by the sight of her. In the small confines of this office, (he still couldn't believe she had a fucking office), the very female scent of her was overpowering. As much as he would normally hate having the ship's captain present, whether or not he was the one in charge, Tom couldn't deny going planet side with her wasn't the worst idea.

  Clearing his throat, he resumed normal programming and ordered himself to stop behaving like a fucking teenager. Besides, she was Fleet.r />
  “That's good to know, Captain. Squints, they like their poking fingers into every bloody nook and cranny. If I think something is going to bite it off, I will put a stop to it, and I'm not going to be airy fairy about it.”

  Jules hid a smirk. Nope, no difference at all from the Marines she'd known or her fellow fighter pilots. In a way, his manner was familiar and put her at ease. “Good. Do you have any questions for me?” she asked.

  Fancy a shag over a half bottle of scotch in my supply closet?

  Somehow, Tom managed to maintain a perfectly straight face as the question crossed his mind, leaving behind sinful trails of animalistic fucking and booze.

  “We are buggering off 1100 hours, yeah?” He asked instead.

  “Yes, 1100 hours. I don't know about you, but I do not want the scientists going off alone. I don't want the science teams…or anyone,” she added belatedly. “Eaten by Godzilla. Or worse.” Just as she wondered if she'd said that out loud, she realized by the look on Major Merrick's face that she had. Damn.

  Tom smiled, feeling like he'd hit the fucking lottery. A sheila who knew Godzilla? What were the odds? Pop culture of the last century was his thing, especially bad Nip films. Oh, the Yanks tried a few remakes, but it just couldn't compare to the bloke in the rubber suit walking into power poles, stomping on papier mâché houses. Those were bloody magic.

  “You like Godzilla?”

  Staring at him for a minute, Jules finally smirked and nodded. “Who doesn't?” she grinned, glad to find some common ground with the bad-ass Shark.

  “A bird with good taste,” Tom grinned, feeling energised as he got to his feet. “Right then, see you at 1030 hours, Captain. Don't forget the sunblock.”

  She watched him leave and shook her head.

  Jarheads.

  IV

  Departure

  When the Sharks heard they were going planet side, Tom swore they whooped it up like they had won the fucking lottery.