Read Flight of the Outcast Online
Authors: Brad Strickland
Flight of the Outcast (15 page)
"Thanks," Dai said.
"Don't thank me; just don't foul up," snarled Helene. "Let's get the request in now." She sat at an AI unit and quickly entered the information. It took all of five minutes for the War Games administrator to transmit an approval back.
Asteria sighed. "That's that. I'd better get to my quarters. If they check my locater, I'd better be where they sent me." She walked toward the women's wing, and Dai walked with her as far as the door. He delayed her there for a moment, looking awkward and embarrassed.
"If you're going to wish me good night, be quick about it. I don't want to be expelled for disobeying orders," she said.
"Thanks," Dai blurted out. "For the good wishes and for telling Helene the lie about my being as good as you are."
"Just knock Kayser down tomorrow," Asteria replied coldly. "Then thank me."
* * *
Confinement to quarters meant that Asteria couldn't even watch the last mock battle in the holoroom. At breakfast, she saw Bren, but she was forbidden to speak to anyone. Still, as they left the dining hall, Bren walked past and murmured, "Going to watch the games. Hope your hearing goes well." As a med services cadet, Bren was among the thousands of students who didn't take flight training. For the first time, Asteria almost envied her. Now Bren was with the other spectators down in the common room of Bronze I, following the games on the big holovision set. Asteria could hear muffled shouts and cheers as she nervously paced her room—it was so small that pacing was more like spinning in place—fighting to contain her dull anger. At one point, she tried to call Bren and ask her what was happening only to find that she had no reception. On top of everything else, the Academy AI had overridden and disabled her transceiver, as well.
Lunchtime came—but the battle was running long, and Asteria was almost the only cadet in the mess hall. A Cybot directed her to Exile's Corner, the widely spaced round tables for one meant for those undergoing the humiliating punishment of confinement. As she jogged back to the barracks, she heard the uproar of cheers and groans from the holoroom, but she couldn't make out what had happened or who had won.
At 1600, dressed in her class A uniform, a nervous Asteria presented herself in Vice Admiral Chen's office. The administrator led her to a conference room. "Sit there," Chen said, gesturing toward a chair a few steps away from a long polished table. It looked like pimina wood, with a rich reddish-brown glow. Asteria guessed the conference room was intended for the high brass who occasionally visited the Academy. Greenshaded lamps provided soft light. Two officers already sat at the table, and a Cybot stood behind them.
"I will chair the panel," Chen said, sitting down between the other two officers. "And these will be the judges. I'll introduce you."
Asteria studied the judges as Chen named them. One, a muscular man of forty-five or so, with graying brown hair, was a Commander Havers, a political science instructor; the other was a somewhat younger woman with a shaved head, Lieutenant Commander Wardley, who taught mathematics. Neither had ever taught Asteria.
"You don't know each other," Vice Admiral Chen said, as if reading Asteria's thoughts, "so you are assured of an impartial hearing. Rear Admiral Vodros will present the prosecution's case." The commandant glanced at the clock. "He should be here now."
They waited in silence as five minutes crept slowly by. Asteria sat rigidly in her chair, trying not to fidget. Commander Havers impatiently drummed his fingers on the table, and Lieutenant Commander Wardley sat with her arms crossed. Finally, Havers said, "Vice Admiral Chen, I suggest we call the Earl and learn how much later we have to wait for him to prosecute this case."
"I concur." With a sigh, Vice Admiral Chen turned to the Cybot. "Locate Rear Admiral Vodros. Establish a communications link."
"Yes, sir." The Cybot stood in silence for another minute or so and then said, "Admiral Vodros, Vice Admiral Chen."
"My Lord Vodros," said Chen. "We are waiting for you in Conference Hall One."
"Oh, the court-martial." It was strange to hear Vodros' boredsounding voice coming from the Cybot. "I looked into that and have decided against proceeding. It's irregular, but the cadet does fall under the
Adastra
rule, even though she isn't one of us. At any rate, I have decided there's no use in challenging a long-standing tradition. I therefore recommend the charges be dropped. But keep an eye on that Commoner."
Adastra
rule, even though she isn't one of us. At any rate, I have decided there's no use in challenging a long-standing tradition. I therefore recommend the charges be dropped. But keep an eye on that Commoner."
"What?" Asteria could not suppress the angry word.
Chen's eyes flashed a warning. "We will take that under advisement, my lord. Chen out. Break the link, Cybot."
"It is done."
"He didn't even mean to prosecute!" Asteria said, leaping up from her chair and clenching her hands. "He just wanted to keep me out of the War Games!"
Chen ignored her and glanced left and right at her two fellow judges. "I suggest that the panel accept Rear Admiral Vodros' recommendation and drop all charges. Discussion? No? Then what is your pleasure?"
Commander Havers said, "I concur with the Admiral."
"And I concur as well," added Lieutenant Commander Wardley.
"So ordered," said Chen. "The Cybot will so note in the record of the proceedings. The court stands in adjournment. You remain, Cadet."
The two officers left. Asteria stood breathing hard. "It wasn't fair," she complained as soon as they were alone.
"Life is frequently unfair," Chen said. "Midshipman Locke, I give you a direct order. You are to take no action against Kain Kayser, Lord Mastral. If you do, I will personally see to your punishment. No, not another word. Your restriction to quarters is over. You are restored to good standing and all privileges. Dismissed."
"Please, Vice Admiral—"
"No discussion, Cadet. You are dismissed."
"Aye, Commandant." She did an about-face and strode out, boiling.
* * *
The barracks common room had been decorated for a party, but it was long over. A group of Commoners were taking down the streamers and cleaning the floor. Bren looked up, grinning. "Aster! Isn't it great?"
"What do you mean?" Asteria asked.
"Gold won!" Bren crowed. "By one ship! It was—oh, I forgot!"
"I'll help you," Asteria said.
One of the Commoner boys looked down from a ladder. "You don't have to do that."
"We're all Commoners together, right?" Asteria said grimly.
Right.
She glanced around. Every Commoner in Bronze 1 except Dai Tamlin was cleaning the area. She hauled over a trash bin and held a dustpan as a girl named Caytla swept confetti into it. "How did Dai do in the game?" she asked.
Right.
She glanced around. Every Commoner in Bronze 1 except Dai Tamlin was cleaning the area. She hauled over a trash bin and held a dustpan as a girl named Caytla swept confetti into it. "How did Dai do in the game?" she asked.
Bren sighed sadly. "He died."
"Too bad." Then it sank in, and Asteria looked sharply up. "You don't mean he really—"
"No," one of the guys called down. "Not really. He was going to help us, but we gave him the time off because of his heroism."
Another guy chimed in, "See, the Gold team was protecting a refugee ship, and Silver was attacking. That Mastral—"
Bren swept the projection screen of the holovision clear of confetti. "Let's show her," she said. "Replay today's War Game."
The holoprojector came to life and created a representation
of the jungle. A yellow blob represented the target, and all around it glittered the gold darts of the training ships.
The boy jumped down from his ladder and pointed. "There come the Daggers, see?"
Asteria glanced at them and then looked back at the Bolt ships, still in formation. "Which one's Dai?"
Bren pointed. "Right there, second from the lead to starboard."
"Here comes the first attack. Okay, see, the Silvers are diving from about five thousand meters…and Helene sends six Golds up…the Silvers break off…"
The miniature replay showed six Gold ships rising to pursue the nine Daggers. The skirmish didn't take long and ended with minor damage to both sides, no kills.
Asteria's breath tightened. Twelve more Silver ships were streaking in from behind. Didn't anyone see them? She felt the belt tingle, sending a surge into her system.
"Come on, come on," she growled.
"Rear guard sees them…now! Listen to Helene!"
Helene's recorded orders barked out of the speaker: "Patrol team, dive on attackers coming in from 178! Gold nineteen through twenty-four, help them! Keep tight, twenty-five!"
The six ships peeled away from formation as the six patrolling ships streaked down from the heights. Asteria felt herself willing the ships to
fire, fire, fire—
fire, fire, fire—
The attackers scrambled into a disordered cloud. The calm voice of a Cybot listed the casualties: Silver three destroyed. Silve
r
five, 85 percent damage, weapons inoperative. Gold twenty
four destroyed. Silver nine destroyed. Silver eleven targeting,
navigation disabled. Gold twenty, 15 percent damage—
r
five, 85 percent damage, weapons inoperative. Gold twenty
four destroyed. Silver nine destroyed. Silver eleven targeting,
navigation disabled. Gold twenty, 15 percent damage—
Asteria felt her heart pounding. If she'd been there…if Kayser had played fair—
The Gold team broke the Dagger attack, and of the twelve ships, ten survived to rejoin the guard formation. Silver had lost a total of eleven ships destroyed or badly damaged. Another feint from above, and this time Gold lost five ships to Silver's four. Another attack. Helene was left, along with Dai and five more Gold ships. The Daggers were down to just six—and three of those had not yet showed up. Silver one had been conspicuously absent.
Helene redeployed the guards, using what she had. The refugee ship was almost to its landing site—if they could bring it in, Gold would win—
"Endgame," Bren said. "Here they come."
Four of the surviving Daggers were circling the landing site. They sped directly toward the approaching target ship, and the Gold team tightened formation to meet them.
"There's Kayser!" Asteria said.
He was using the same trick he had used earlier. He and his wingman were on the same heading as the Gold team but so low they were hard to see. As the target and the Gold team roared overhead, Silver one and two tilted up and stabbed through the air, directly at the target ship—
"Daggers below!" Dai's voice. Gold two dived and circled. A moment later, Helene followed him, but they were going to be too late—
Kayser's weapons fired. Dai rolled his ship, dropped, and took the brunt of the fire. The Cybot announced, "Gold two destroyed."
But Helene was firing. "Silver one destroyed. Silver two disabled—"
"Foul," Kayser's angry voice spat. "Foul!"
The Cybot announced the destruction or disabling of almost every Silver and Gold ship, one by one…until only Helene was left, limping along with 53 percent damage. "The decision is in favor of the Gold team," the Cybot announced. "The Gold team wins the exercise."
The cadets in the common room raised a cheer, startling Asteria.
"Dai saved the day," Bren said.
"Yeah," agreed Asteria. "But if I'd been there—" She tried to force herself to relax. "Yeah," she said again. "He did. Good for Dai."
But she felt cheated all the same.
"The win hasn't been confirmed yet," warned the Commoner boy, climbing back on his ladder. "Because Lord Mastral's lodged a formal complaint that he was fouled."
"It won't stick," Bren told Asteria. "The AI agrees with the referees that Gold won." She dropped her voice to a confidential tone. "But now Lord Mastral will have it in for Dai."
"Dai will have to join the club," Asteria said, dumping colorful confetti into the waste bin.
twelve
L
ater that same evening she found an exhausted Dai slumped
ater that same evening she found an exhausted Dai slumped
on a bench in the courtyard of the Bronze Barracks. No one else was there. The soft spring dusk was coming on, and Asteria let herself sink onto the bench beside him, inhaling the minty air—the early pale-pink versilla blooms in the flower beds were waving in the evening breeze. The central fountain sent up a graceful, silvery plume of water that swayed gently with the light wind. Dai grunted an almost inaudible greeting and put his arm on the back of the bench behind her.
Asteria let herself lean back against it, amused by Dai's shy physical gesture. "Heard you did well today," she said.
He turned and stared at her profile. "How did the court-martial go?" he asked anxiously.
"It didn't." She explained what had happened in a few bitter words.
"See?" demanded Dai, his tone tight. "This is corruption, that's what it is. The Fleet is supposed to be better than that! Vodros stepped in to protect wittle Mastral, that's all. He never intended to push the trial through—he just wanted you off the opposing team."
Asteria reminded him: "It didn't work, though. You were there instead of me."
He moved his arm from behind her and leaned forward, tensely, as if he were angry with himself or with the world in general. "Yeah. I got killed."
"I heard about it. But it was a tactical decision, right? You sacrificed your ship to save the target, and that won the game for the Gold team."
Dai sounded frustrated when he said, "I had to run flat-out just ahead of Mastral. Couldn't turn, couldn't do anything but take his fire. I wish I could have brought my weapons to bear. I didn't even get in one shot—just caught all of Mastral's lasers. The only thing that I accomplished was to buy Helene enough time to get into firing position and bring the little snot down." Dai balled his fist and struck his knee. "But calling a court-martial just to throw you off the team—that's not right. Vodros is a rear admiral! He has no business trying to futz around in Academy business while the Tetras are attacking again."
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