BORN OF HEROES

— by Jeff Karamales

Chapter 65
 

“Cerise, could you come to the bridge, please?” Odette all but asked over the intercom.

  The vixen got up from the deck where she and Elias had been playing with the kits, nuzzled each of her children affectionately before trotting the short distance to the bridge. Even as she stepped onto the flight deck, tapping the controls to bring the information from sensors up on the forward viewports, Elias took a place next to her sensors console. “This is weird,” the vulpine female said with a small frown. “How long has this been showing up?” she asked the ursine at the weapons station.

  “I just noticed it three or four minutes ago,” Odette informed her friend. “I didn’t know if it was an echo off our own wake or what, that’s why I called you.”

  Cerise adjusted the gain on the sensors and swore under her breath. The vixen rarely swore, and to use the particular epithet that she did now caused her husband’s fur to stand on end along his spine. “Bad?” Elias asked, already feeling the first surge of adrenaline.

  “I don’t know,” the Cerise admitted. “It’s definitely a ship and not our echo. Good call, Odette. I know a lot of veteran techies that would have missed this. Whoever it is, they’re trying real hard not to be seen. They aren’t cloaked, but they definitely know how to hide, and their signature is almost lost amid the spatial noise.”

  “I’m ready if they try anything,” Odette told the couple. “Thank the Maker Pala was able to get that favor from her friend, though I don’t want to know where a civvie got his hands on that kind of ordinance. Sparrow missiles and some non-nuke torpedoes?”

  “I’m glad Sandy and Janes let us keep the missile racks,” Elias said as he made his way to the helm. The fox slipped his seat harness on, the other two doing the same. “Are they getting closer?”

  “Yes,” Cerise answered tersely, her expression hard as she continued to look at her board. “But they’re going about it real slow. They don’t want us to know that we’re being followed.” She snarled lightly. “Damn it! I wish I could get more info! I can’t tell what they are or how big or anything helpful!”

  As Elias prepared to evade and Odette double-checked her firing solutions, the vessel that was trailing moved out of their wake and a cheerful voice pealed out over the communications equipment. “Tag, Toddy-boy! You’re it!”

  “Alistair, you came close to catching a missile in the teeth!” Elias shot back hotly over his headset. “By the Maker!” The fox took in a breath and let the tension that was in his shoulders release.

  “So, where ya headed, laddie? We can follow you in and meet up with ya,” the human suggested.

  “Ceres Station,” the fox told his friend.

  “Excellent! Once you’re available, meet up with us in the Atrium. Drinks are on me,” the Scot told his former comrade.

  “That’s not a bad idea. You owe us for that stunt, anyway,” the fox quipped.

***

    Alistair Gordon took a sip of his malt whiskey, his eyes on the door to the Atrium, the area of Ceres Station that was filled with green leafy things for the personnel of the station to enjoy along with artificial gravity generators to provide a full G for those that were unused to long periods of low or no gravity. The overall appeal of the lounge was provided with moving wall scenes of woods and forests from all over the Planetary Alignment. When a familiar group entered the facility, the human couldn’t help but grin.

  Elias watched as his friend, a person he’d gone through the Spatial Police Force Academy with slid from his barstool and approached, his arms wide and a grin plastered to his face. Alistair was dressed in his normal attire of kilt, boots, simple shirt and leather vest.

  “C’mon, the lot of ya!” the Scot cried boisterously. “I got one o’ the private booths set aside, don’t ya know!” When he saw that there was a new female with the fox’s crew the man sidled up and slipped an arm around her shoulder, leaning close. “And maybe later I can show ya the wonders and sights of Ceres, lassie!”

  Sabine stiffened at the forward manner of the human, never really interacting with a non-fur before and was caught completely off guard by his overly friendly manner. Fortunately Lena was there to save her.

  “Hands off, oh hairless one,” the doe said as she got between Sabine and Alistair with a playful slap to the man’s hands. “She’s with Randy and me.”

  “Say it ain’t so!” Alistair lamented looking at the aforementioned wolf. “Two? What have you got that I don’t? Asides yer own fur coat?!?”

  Randal shrugged and stepped in smoothly, an arm going about each female’s waist. “Charisma,” he said simply and with a wide grin.

  Pala, the only unattached female drew a mischievous smile and took the man’s arm. “I suppose I’ll have to be the one to keep you occupied. Just keep your hands to yourself, though. I’d hate to have to ask Elias and the others to put any of your parts in baggies for reattachment later.”

  Cerise snickered. “I think you’re starting to develop a sense of humor!” she exclaimed with surprise at the felinoid.

  “Cerise, you know my kind are completely devoid of humor. I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Pala declared, though she did give a covert wink to the vixen. She let the human lead her to the private booth enjoying the way the man seemed stunned at her brazen attitude.

  As soon as everyone was seated, the only absences being Lem and Keena who’d stayed on board the Ascendant Angel to watch the kits, Alistair tripped the privacy field, a low level curtain similar in principal to the shields of a starship. It would block not only their conversation but would also obscure the occupants. As soon as it was up the Scot’s expression became quite serious.

  “Janes and Brees has had the entire Q-fleet looking for you,” he told Elias, all previous behavior gone and the business side of the fox’s friend coming to the fore.

  “Why?” Elias asked, his ears perking up, a feeling of worry filling him.

  “One of the prisoner transports that was heading to Darkfall with a batch of Legion mercs failed to make rendezvous. It was found a week and a half ago between Sol and Centaurus. The investigation team was able to determine that the prisoners somehow got free and overwhelmed the crew.

  “They did a pretty good job of smashing the computer core, but the techies were able to glean enough information to piece together that it was an inside job, one of the guards was a Legion plant. That ain’t the worse of it, though, Toddy-boy,” Alistair said leaning forward.

  “How much worse can it get?” Lena asked, her expression the same as the rest and filled with concern.

  “Roric Ganlin was one o’ the prisoners, it seems. There’s a recording of him, and forensics was able to confirm that he was one o’ the prisoners. He was hidin’ in plain sight with the rest o’ his people.” The Scot shook his head. “Yer marked, Elias. All of you are. Janes has already taken precautions fer Rovi and the rest o’ yer family. They want ya ta get to Joplin so they can put ya in protective custody.”

  The others looked at Elias when he answered with a firm, “No.”

  “Are ya daft, Elias?” Alistair asked in shock. “Ya ain’t got the protection of anonymity no more! Ya hurt th’ bastard and he wants yer blood, boyo! Yers and yer family’s!”

  “I’m not running, Alistair. Not now, not ever again,” the fox said. “If I run, I’ll be running for the rest of my life.” He looked at the rest of his friends. “If you all want off the Angel, I’ll understand. I’m not going to give in to Ganlin, though.”

  “I’m not going anywhere,” Lena said with a scowl. “We’ve faced the best he could throw at us and we’re still here. He wants a fight? Well, he’s got it!”

  Randal nodded. “I’m staying.”

  “As if there’s any doubt about where my choice lies,” Pala snorted. “I think this Roric Ganlin’s hide would make a suitable trophy.”

  Sabine was the only one that looked dubious. “What’s wrong with running?” she asked in a slightly shrill voice, her eyes wide with the first vestiges of fear. “We don’t know where he is or what he’s capable of! I…I’ve heard all of you talk…the stories!”

  Randy put his arm around the red squirrel’s shoulders and looked at the young female with sincere eyes that had a hint of hardness to them. “Sab, if we run, we’ll never stop. He’ll hunt all of us down one at a time and kill us. Together we’re more than a match for him.” He gave her a quick hug. “If you want out, though, we’ll understand.”

  Sabine didn’t hesitate. “Uh-uh! If you aren’t going, I’m not either! I’m not losing either of you to some stinking cat!”

  The look that both Lena and the wolf gave the other third of their little group was full of respect and affection.

  “I have to agree,” Cerise said. “I’m tired of running as well. It’s time we ended this.” The vixen too her mates hand in a show of solidarity. “As equals, in good times and bad,” she said with warm eyes and a defiant tilt to her chin.

  “Always,” Elias answered, feeling as if he was going to burst with pride and love for the black furred female.

  “I think yer all nuts!” Alistair said with a shake of his head. “But I think Janes and Sandy knew that this was how ya were going to react to the news.” He tossed the rest of his drink back. “Make yer way to th’ SPF outpost here in the belt. They ha’ been authorized to re-arm yer ship by Breth Janes herself. There’s a briefin’ packet there fer ya as well with all the information ya be needin’.”

  “Thanks, Alistair,” Elias said.

  “Now that the bad news is all taken care of, how did ye all detect me ship?” the man asked in curiosity, one eye narrowing. “Ya shouldnae have been able to detect me in yer baffles.”

  “Alistair, you can’t beat a fox when it comes to cunning and being clever,” Cerise told the human with a smirk.

— NEXT CHAPTER —

Unless otherwise noted, all material © Ted R. Blasingame. All rights reserved.