The potential for an ambush before they made the Alliance Military space dock was left unmentioned by Wulf, but was in the forefront of everyone’s mind.
Mel sensed that the mood on the ship was still one of disbelief and outrage that their own people had turned on them and sabotaged their ship, endangering the entire crew.
And for what? Fear of change? That reason, the reason that Donte, Regin and the other rebels she’d encountered had espoused, didn’t work for her. In the long history of the Prime, they’d made many changes and adaptations in order to survive, including mating with other humanoids on planets they discovered and/or colonized. Why this lust for purity of bloodlines now? No, there was something else going on behind this “rebellion,” and Mel would find out what. But first they had to make it to Tooh 10.
Shoving aside her concerns over the rebels’ motivation, Mel nodded. “Agreed. It would be irresponsible to put off a complete maintenance. Hell, besides the rebel threat, there are Antareans out there gunning for any Alliance ship. Not to mention, killer hunks of rock that could put a hole into us in a split second. A damaged ship equals a dead crew.”
“Good. We are of the same mind.” Wulf’s lips thinned into a grim smile. “I also notified Alliance Military Command of our situation. They’ve notified any and all Alliance in the area to stand ready to assist.”
While she’d been crawling around in the tunnels, her gemat had been busy, doing exactly everything she would’ve done. They made a good team.
“Well, they can notify any or all Alliance patrols in the area they like, but it won’t do much good. This is not a part of the galaxy that sees regular patrols. Other than the Obam system, there are no other stars with habitable zone planets out here.” This part of the Cygnus-Orion spiral was literally almost empty as compared to the rest of the spiral. Not much need to patrol empty space.
Wulf nodded. “I know, gemate, but I wanted to cover all bases, especially since Captain Nowicki was ordered back to Tooh 10 ahead of us.”
“Good move. You’re already in the CYA-mode of Alliance military ops.” She grinned at him. “That was a lesson I learned early on, even when I was only a first officer on troop and supply transports.”
Mel moved closer to Wulf and placed a hand on his fisted one. His anger and fear, for her, for his crew, but not for himself, was palpable. The need to touch him, to soothe him, was far stronger than her distaste for public displays of affection in front of their crew. He was hurting, and she needed to make him feel better. Plus, touching him comforted her, also.
Inhaling his unique male scent, feeling the gentle heat generated by her stroking of his hand, her anger over the current dire situation dissipated. As some semblance of calm settled over her—and in turn, over Wulf, she realized that together they were not just a good team, but they were also stronger as individuals. Together, they could handle whatever came their way. “Things aren’t that bad, Wulf. We still have maneuverability,” she said as she let go of his hand and ticked the positives off on her fingers. “We also have secondary weapons systems and auxiliary shields, not to mention fifteen space fighters armed with torpedoes. We could defend ourselves until the Leonidas and the rest of the squadron reach us.”
Murmurs of approval at her words came from many of the crew on the bridge. The word battle-mate whispered around the bridge as if on a gentle breeze through a tall meadow of grass. The crew’s faith in her abilities humbled her. She hadn’t even proven herself in battle yet and they trusted that she, no, that she and Wulf, could bring them through.
Wulf smiled. “And, as my crew has so rightly pointed out, we have the advantage of superior tactical leaders, battle-mate. We are stronger together. That is a plus the rebels and our enemies have not counted on.”
“You were reading my thoughts.”
“Yes. When you leave it open, I touch your mind constantly. It is a prime imperative.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she whispered, a slight smile twisting her lips. She’d thought her filters were impervious. Wulf was becoming more proficient in touching her thoughts, as she did his. She’d have to work on strengthening her filters. A girl had to have some secrets.
A sudden, horrible thought wiped the smile from her lips. “Long-range sensors.
What’s the status?”
Wulf replied, “Working optimally and increased to maximum range of five light-years.” He pulled the long-range scanner onto his command screen. “Very little activity except for … are those Alliance military transponder codes?” His head turned toward hers. “I thought you said there was little or no military presence in this area.”
“There isn’t—normally.” She took a closer look at the blips on the screen. “They look like our codes, but not any I recognize in particular.” Mel’s senses went on red alert.
“Mr. Dakkin, please relay these codes to Alliance Military Operations on Tooh 10
and ask for identification,” Mel requested of the communications officer.
The silence on the bridge became oppressive; it, combined with the emotional bombardment of the crew, overwhelmed Mel’s psi abilities. She threw up her empathic filters, leaving only her personal connection to Wulf open, and that, more narrowly than before.
“Got them, Captain Melina,” Dakkin announced, his voice so loud in the silence that Mel jumped, startled. “Captain Sinclair is standing by.”
“On screen, please,” Mel requested.
On the large forward monitor, a small, attractive blonde sat at a large console, dressed in the royal blue Alliance uniform worn by Command Ops personnel. Her face was preternaturally calm, but her sky blue eyes held a hint of worry.
“Hi, Linnea.”
“Hey, Mel,” Linnea said, a slight smile on her lips. “I was going to congratulate you on your marriage, but it might be out of place at the moment. I got the word just a bit ago from both Captain Nowicki,” her eyes shifted toward Wulf, “and the other Captain Caradoc that you’re heading back this way for repairs. I’ve already placed Space Dock 14
on standby.”
Linnea and Mel had gone to flight school together, piloted transports in the same unit. Mel had always admired her friend for her A-type attention to details. It made her one of the best Operations officers in the fleet.
“Thanks, Linnea. But something else has come up,” Mel said. “Our long-range sensors show Alliance military activity within three light-years of our current position near the Ursa solar system. Last I heard, we didn’t send patrols into this area of the galaxy unless requested. Is something going on in Ursa space that we need to know about?”
Linnea frowned and pursed her cupid’s bow of a mouth as she clicked keys. “Mel, I’ve got you on the screen. Yeah, I see those transponder codes you’re talking about.” She hummed under her breath as she rapidly keyed in data. Her lips turned down in a frown. “Good eye. They look like ours, but they aren’t.” She paused to talk to someone behind her, off screen. “We’re scrambling Blue Squadron to investigate. Gold will be ordered to increase to maximum emergency speed to intercept you and provide protection.”
Some more mumbled words to someone off-screen. “Confirmed once more. These bogies are definitely heading your way, Mel, but their top speed does not match anything we have. So, whoever was clever enough to mimic our codes has more antiquated vessels. Hold a sec, we have more intel on the unknowns.” Linnea clicked some more keys, her lips pursed in concentration. “Ensign Jo-tah tells me that our sensors are showing that the five bogies are C-Class light battle cruisers.
Probably decommissioned Alliance equipment used by one of our smaller allies and sold for salvage.”
Her blue eyes darkened with concern, Linnea asked, “What’s the Galanti’s final damage assessment?”
“Bad enough that we’ll have a hard time defending ourselves against even antiquated C-class cruisers,” Wulf interjected. “I’m sending you the full damage report now.” Wulf keyed in the details and transmitted.
More background mumbling from, presumably, Jo-tah, then Linnea said, “It’ll be close. On your current trajectory and speed, Gold will intercept the Galanti in about one to two standard hours after the bogies catch up with you. The good news is Garth and Blue Squadron will be so close behind them that they’ll be in danger of riding up the bogies’ as—… um, hind ends.”
“Thank you. That’s what we calculated, Captain Sinclair,” Wulf said.
“Just tell Royce and Garth to hurry up,” Mel added. “As it is, we’ll have to do some fancy maneuvering to keep the enemy on their toes until the rest of the good guys come to play.”
Linnea nodded. “Keep us apprised, Mel. We’ve already notified Admiral Nelson about the situation. He has ordered us to provide anything we can to help you.” None of which, Mel knew, would get to them in time. “Good luck, Galanti. Tooh 10 Ops out.”
“Thanks, Linnea. Galanti out”
Wulf exchanged a long look with Mel. She didn’t need to read his mind to know what he asked. She nodded. “It’s your call.”