War for the Iron Planet

Chapter 23: Revolutionaries

Reclan kicked the generator with her metal foot, and it began to whir happily. She looked around at the Wingspan's utilities section, satisfied that it was put back together to the best of her ability. It hadn't been easy, but everything but the ripmed was ready to go. The drive and communications system's photon multiplier had been destroyed, and without it the ship was mute and crippled, unable to travel or communicate faster than the speed of light.

Vanbrook looked at her with a smile. Most of the swelling was gone now, and the boyish charm of his grin had returned.

"You always find the right tool for the job, Rec," he said.

Reclan nodded and laughed. "Yeah, but I still need parts to fix some things properly," she noted. "The engineering team and I managed to put a list together, but that doesn't do us much good if we don't have a way to get them."

"Well, have we had any word on the Ferryman?" asked Vanbrook. "There were supposed to be a bunch of spare parts onboard."

"Yeah," said Reclan. "Everything we need and more. Sounds like communications is hopeful their satellite scans may have found something, but they need to do a deeper scan to be sure. It's not a good sign we haven't heard from them."

"Yeah," said Vanbrook soberly. "Even if they had radio issues with the iron deposits you'd think they'd have found a spot to send a comm from by now."

Relcan shrugged, wiping her greasy hands off with a rag.

"I'm gonna go clean up. Meet in the galley in half an hour?" she asked.

"Yeah," said Vanbrook, "sounds go-"

"Talon squad, please report my quarters immediately," came Jasken's voice over the friends' comms.

"That can't be good," said Reclan.

Vanbrook frowned.

"Raivyn," he said in a low voice, and took off towards Jasken's quarters.

"We're, uh, on our way, sir," said Reclan as she went off after him.

***

Meanwhile, high above Hittania, Crush's new armada drifted aimlessly through the aether, orbiting the planet. She was still aboard her star tree, familiarizing herself with the design and systems of the small craft. It was something between the size of a fighter and a cargo hauler, with a series of empty coffin-like chambers in the hold that looked like some kind of wave tuning technology. It appeared to be a medical ship, which would explain the lack of serious firepower. There were a handful of beam eyes, but they were small.

As she was studying the vine-like structures that wound their way from the control center to the eyes, a comm came in from Tank.

"Admiral Crush? Are you there? The crew is getting antsy." Tank sounded nervous.

This was the call she'd been avoiding. She'd given life-or-death orders as they'd fled and then established orbit, but she'd been quiet since, still unsure where to take her burgeoning revolution.

She considered leaving the system immediately. The gunships were perfectly capable of interstellar travel. She could land the star tree on the larger gunship and get back into pirate-friendly aether easily enough, but they were a small and vulnerable fleet at the moment. They needed allies. She stood up straight and walked into view of the camera- or eye, as it were. She was still getting used to the concept of a biological ship.

"For the moment, we will remain here," she said with more confidence than she felt. "I have already spoken with the Griffon Republic once, giving them information that was of more value to them than to us." She heard shouts of disapproval. Better to be honest from the beginning, she thought.