Author: Kyle Pratt
Date: 2014-01-16 00:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Science Fiction & Fantasy; Science Fiction; Anthologies; Military; Literature & Fiction; Anthologies & Short Stories
Description: Twenty years after the death of her father during the Battle of Altair, Lieutenant Amy Palmer returns to the system as an officer aboard the reconnaissance ship Mirage. Almost immediately disaster strikes and Amy, along with the crew of the Mirage, must face the possibility of performing their final duties. ** About the Author Kyle Pratt is the bestselling author of three books. The latest, Through Many Fires, is a post-apocalyptic thriller released in paperback, ebook and audiobook format in 2013. Titan Encounter, a science fiction space adventure, was released in 2013 and is also available i
Publisher: Camden Cascade Publishing
Rights: All rights reserved (#3622434812799111)

Final Duty
The Speculative FictionNovella

By Kyle Pratt

Copyright © 2013 Kyle Pratt

All Rights Reserved

Edition 2.9 – August 2014

Editor: Barbara Blakey

Cover design and cover art by Micah Hansen

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, especially those on other planets, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Table of Contents

Final Duty

Also by the author

About the author

Final Duty

Twenty years after the death of her father during the Battle of Altair, Lieutenant Amy Palmer returns to the system as an officer aboard the reconnaissance ship Mirage. Almost immediately disaster strikes and Amy, along with the crew of the Mirage, must face the possibility of performing their final duties. Final Duty is a novella set in the same universe as the other two stories in this anthology.

I wrote most of it while serving on the U.S.S. Missouri (BB-63) during the Gulf War. I’m certain writing this story while living in the confined grayness of a navy ship during battle gave it an added sense of realism. While writing it I tried to take current military procedures and imagine them in a future spacefaring navy. At nearly 16,000 words, Final Duty is the longest story in this collection.

Thrown from her bunk, Lieutenant Amy Palmer awoke as she hit the deck and rolled across the small compartment. Coming to a sudden stop against the bulkhead she tried to understand what happened. An explosion?

With a single emergency light to guide her, she jumped up only to hear the gravity alarm sound.

A computer voice announced, “Gravity failure all decks.”

Amy shot towards the overhead with barely time to put her arms out and break her upward flight. Many of her belongings, now weightless, danced in the air, the pillow from the bunk, pens, papers, and a framed picture of her father from the nightstand.

Are we under attack? Her heart raced. Why hasn’t general quarters been called?

Releasing her grip on the overhead conduit she gently pushed off, grabbed her pants and shoes as they drifted by and, spinning like an ice skater, dressed in midair.

She pulled the flashlight from her belt and floated out the cabin door into a passageway, illuminated only by emergency lights. Bracing her feet against the bulkhead she pulled her cabin door shut to trap her floating personal effects inside. Pushing away, like a swimmer off the side of a pool she glided along the corridor.

“Lieutenant, do you know what happened?” a crewman asked.

“No, but go to your battle station,” she ordered as she slid past in midair.

Other crewmembers floated into the area.

“Go to your battle stations,” she commanded.

Reaching the main passageway, she turned, her long auburn hair streaming in front of her eyes and, she was sure, in all other directions. Brushing it back with her hands, she shoved off again with her legs. As she raced down the passageway like a bullet, the alarm sounded again.

“Gravity is being restored on all decks,” the computer advised.

As a safety precaution, gravity was restored slowly. She arched her back up, stalled and touched down on the deck. Weighing mere grams, she was careful not to leap off the deck as she hurried down the passageway her weight increased with each step.

“General quarters, general quarters! All hands man your battle stations!”

It was almost a relief to hear the expected announcement and the klaxon.

As she stepped onto the bridge, she heard a technician inform the Captain, “Gravity has been restored to normal.”

Captain Harris nodded.

Amy paused a second to scan the holographic projection at the far end of the bridge. It showed the Altair star and several planets in the system but no enemy ships. Moving to the side, she passed the unmanned engineering station and took up her position as environmental systems officer.

Normally the intelligence officer, Lieutenant Marcus Ralston, would be alongside her, but she didn’t see him. Only after ensuring all her systems were functioning and her people were alive and on station did she again look around the bridge. She found Marcus bent over data screens with the sensor tech, his uniform dripping wet, his brown hair a mess. What happened to him?

“Brad! What’s the situation down there?” the Captain called over the commlink to the executive officer.

The image of a compartment lit only by emergency lights appeared on various vid screens. “I’m in power relay room one, sir. Are we under attack?”

“No,” Captain Harris said, but then turned to Marcus.

Marcus shook his head. “It was a mine.”

“No. We don’t see any Hex ships in the area. How much damage did we suffer?”

“Explosive decompression destroyed the fusion control room. Commander Chou and Connors are dead, along with the techs.

Amy shook her head slowly in disbelief. Both engineering officers, along with the technicians in the control—all of them, sucked out of the ship by the explosion. They died quickly in the vacuum of space, but it would have been in agony.

The Executive Officer continued. “The reactor appears to have done a controlled shutdown.”

“Yes, we’re on batteries. Can you get out of there?” The captain asked.

“No sir, the airtight doors are sealed. But I can hear the damage control team working on the other side of the bulkhead.”

Moments later everyone on the bridge watched over the video link as the damage control team opened the airtight door, entered and sealed it behind them. Brad quickly advised them the compartment was venting atmosphere and they went to find the leak.

“Can you get into the fusion control room?” Captain Harris asked over the commlink. “The Bias drive is down and we may be in a minefield.”

“No sir, the hole is way too big for the automatic sealing system but,” he said walking over to the hatch, “I can see into there through the portal. Captain,” he paused, there isn’t much left of the control…” The video went black. Over the commlink came a short electronic whining sound, then silence.

“Captain, power relay room one has suffered explosive decompression,” the damage control officer reported solemnly. “They’re gone.”

Amy shuddered. The executive officer was dead and everyone on the damage control team. All of them hurtled into the vacuum of space.

“Understood,” the captain said closing his eyes. Slowly he said, “Secure that part of the ship.”

“Yes sir,” the damage control officer replied. Pressing his commlink he dispatched a new team to the stricken portion of the ship.

As Amy scanned the now somber bridge, she noticed Marcus wipe his brow with his still moist sleeve. Looking back over her systems, she concluded all were still functioning normally, but the ship could only remain on battery power for an hour.

“Two mines on approach vectors.” Marcus called out.

“Damn,” Captain Harris cursed softly. “Rig for stealth.”

“Aye sir.” Over the commlink, the Petty Officer of the Watch announced, “Rig for Stealth.”

Amy pressed her commlink and told technicians to retract the radiators dissipating heat from the ship into space. She adjusted cooling systems so some heat would radiate into unoccupied compartments but gradually the ship would become sweltering.

“Engineering,” the Captain called over the commlink, “I need the backup reactor online!”

“Both mines have weapons lock and are accelerating on approach vectors,” Marcus called out.

“We’re bringing power up now,” the engineering chief replied.

“Evasive maneuvers—maximum thrust,” the captain ordered. “Can we get a lock on them yet?”

“Yes sir, we’re attempting…”

“Do it and fire!”

“Brace for impact,” Marcus announced.

“Lock,” The fire control officer shouted. “And firing.”

Two fireballs lit up the holo projection on the bridge.

As the light faded everyone seemed to breathe in unison. The immediate threat was gone. Amy watched as Marcus worked with his sensor tech to locate any other threats in the area.

After several minutes he stood and said, “There are no mines in our immediate vicinity, but stealth mines are hard to detect at….”

“At distances greater than a few hundred kilometers.” Captain Harris nodded and looked at the clock on the bridge.

It was nearly an hour before the captain said, “Secure from general quarters. Set condition three.” He picked up his pad and walked from the bridge leaving the duty officer in charge.

Thankful they had returned to the normal wartime cruising conditions, Amy reset the cooling systems to dissipate heat into space. She then turned over her duties to the petty officer on watch.

Looking around the bridge she noticed several people, including Marcus, had already left. She briefed the duty technician and went to the wardroom one deck below. At one end of the compartment were two coffee pots one always hot. The captain was pouring himself a cup while reading from his pad. When he finished he turned, and still reading, walked towards Amy.

Amy would normally greet the captain in such situations, but today she didn’t know what to say. It hadn’t been a good morning; eleven people had died, the ship was badly damaged and they were all stuck in the Altair system.

He looked up. His smile seemed tense and forced. She tried to smile back as they passed.

* * *

Captain Harris left the wardroom alone, but around him were nearly two hundred people who would soon learn they were on a dying ship.

After returning to his cabin, he sat at his desk and tried to read the various reports. He reached up and turned down the volume on each of the monitors installed in the bulkhead above his desk. They allowed him to observe the main workspaces of the ship, but at times like this, he found them to be a distraction.

He looked at the report from the engineering chief. The fusion control room was beyond repair and there wasn’t enough power without it to activate the Bias Drive.

He rubbed his eyes, set the papers aside and casually picked up the book, The Philosophy of War, a textbook from his days at the academy, half buried under the papers on his desk. He opened to his bookmark and began to read. Almost immediately he came to a passage where the author quoted Sun Tzu, the ancient Chinese military theorist, “He who is prudent and lies in wait for an enemy who is not, will be victorious.” Pondering the passage a plan began to form in his mind.

* * *

Amy got a cup of coffee and sat alone in a corner of the wardroom. People entered and left but she hardly noticed while the cup slowly cooled between her hands. Dad died in this system and now eleven crewmates have died here. I hate the Altair system.

“Penny.”

Startled Amy looked up from the table. Marcus, in a clean, dry uniform and combed hair stood a meter away. “What? I’m sorry Marcus, I was thinking. What did you say?”

“That’s okay. I said ‘penny’ it’s an old Earth expression. It means I’m wondering what you’re thinking about?”

“What does an old form of currency have to do with what I am thinking?”

“I have absolutely no idea,” he said with a laugh. He sat across from her, “But you did look like you needed company.”

“I guess I need someone to get my mind on something else.”

“Were you thinking about our situation?”

“Yes, and my father. He fought here on the Chameleon.”

“Wasn’t that the prototype for our ship?”

“Yeah, the Mirage is very similar,” she replied.

“Did he….”

Amy smiled gently. “Officially he’s missing in action. During the last battle of the campaign two missiles hit the ship, and evidently my father ordered the crew to abandoned ship.”

“Evidently?” Marcus asked.

“Most of the survivors couldn’t remember who gave the order but several were convinced it came from my father. He may have been the ranking surviving officer.”

“Most of the crew did survive,” Marcus stated.

“Right,” she said pleased for some reason that he knew the history, “all the lifepods were recovered and most of the crew, but none of the senior officers, including my father, were ever found.”

“I’ve studied the Altair battles but I never knew your father fought here.”

“Fought and died.” Amy sighed. “When the captain said we were coming here I hoped we might get a chance to find him and maybe learn more about what happened to him.” She smiled weakly. “I didn’t think I would spend the rest of my life here.”

Marcus frowned and said, “I guess it wasn’t in any of our plans.”

“You came over to cheer me up and now I’ve made you depressed. Let’s start over.”

Marcus smiled, “Agreed.”

“Why were you so wet and disheveled on the bridge earlier?” Amy asked.

Marcus looked sheepish. “I had just poured a cup of coffee when the explosion occurred. The pot started to fall and I tried to stop it but it spilled on the deck in front of me.”

“Oh,” she said with a smile.

“Then gravity failed and I ended up floating in a cloud of coffee.”

Amy’s hands covered her mouth as she tried not to laugh.

Over the commlink came the announcement, “All officers to power relay room one for a briefing.”

Amy shuddered as she thought of the people who died in the compartment where they had been told to report. “I thought it decompressed,” Amy said.

“Let’s hope the Damage Control team fixed that problem,” Marcus said with a grin.

They descended two decks and headed aft along the main passage but soon ran into a crowd of enlisted personnel carrying duffle bags. Marcus stopped and looked intently down the nearly blocked passage.

“Excuse me,” a crewman said as he slid by carrying a duffel bag.

Amy got out of the way by stepping behind Marcus.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“They’re doubling and tripling us up in berthing spaces,” a crewman answered.

“Why?” Marcus asked.

“They say the fission reactor can’t handle the load.”

Amy nodded. The fission reactor was an emergency backup; only the fusion reactor could run all ship systems.

With slow deliberate steps, they walked aft along the busy and cluttered passageway. As they headed aft the corridors became less cluttered with people and things but more gray and austere. Finally they came to the junction of four passageways, just forward of the main engineering space.

“I don’t often get down this way, but I think we’re there,” Marcus said.

Amy smiled, “Yes it’s right up ahead.”

The hatch to the relay room was open as they approached. “No briefing in a vacuum today,” Marcus said.

Amy surveyed the room; they had arrived ahead of the captain. People took turns looking through the portal at the still decompressed fusion control room. Amy walked over to the hatch and looked in. Twisted metal still attached to the bulkheads and the deck marked where the control panels had once been. Wires and cables lay in confused and twisted jumbles on the deck. Turning her head, Amy saw the ragged breech in the hull left by the explosion. A bright light shined in through the hole and a mechanical arm alternated quickly in and out. The RT-715, or Mumbai as the crew had christened it, after the city where it was made, was welding the hull. Amy turned away and saw Marcus in the corner, smiled, and made her way back towards him. From the corner, she scrutinized her fellow officers. Most of the people in the room leaned against the bulkhead or sat on the few chairs available. Marcus, on the other hand, stood almost at attention beside her. She smiled at him and, as if sensing her gaze, he turned and looked at her. Embarrassed, she quickly turned away.

“Attention on deck!”

“At ease,” Captain Harris said as he entered. Chief Zengal, the senior enlisted engineer, followed him. They both moved quickly to one end of the compartment. The Captain scanned the assembled men and women with a particular look that Amy always found intimidating. She had no idea if he intended it so, or if others felt as she did, but all remained standing and silent.

“As you know,” he began, “four hours ago a Hex mine exploded near us. Good people died, but it could have been much worse. The mine was a fission mine that malfunctioned. All that hit us was the primary chemical explosion. Most of the damage was from the decompression, not the explosion. Lieutenant Ralston,” the captain said referring to Marcus, “tells me we are not in a mine field but…well, come forward and brief us on it.”

“Ah, yes sir,” Marcus said as he moved to the front. “The class of mines we encountered were designed by the Hex to work in threes. The first blew the hole in the control room,” he said gesturing toward the next compartment, “the other two we destroyed with missiles. Those mines appear to have been left over from the Altair Campaign. There may be other groups but passive sensors show no coordinated field.”

Around the compartment, there was a collective sigh of relief.

“That’s the good news,” Captain Harris said. “The bad is the fusion reactor control room.” He turned and looked at Chief Zengal, “brief us on the situation.”

Isaac Zengal, frowned deeply as he began. “I think most of you have already looked through the portal. The damage you see is the non-technical version of this briefing.” The Chief then provided a not so brief technical briefing. Amy smiled as he finally concluded. She understood what he had said as she had an engineering degree. Everything could have been summarized as, without the control room, it was impossible to start the fusion reactor, without the fusion reactor, it was impossible to start the Bias Drive, and without the Bias Drive, it was impossible to travel faster than light. They would all die of old age before they ever saw home again.

“Did we get a message out before…?” A junior officer asked still standing alongside the captain.

“We didn’t have any warning.” The communications officer replied.

Amy nodded, no Bias Drive, no faster than light communication.

“I don’t think they’ll come looking for us.” Marcus said to the Captain, “Command still considers Altair to be behind enemy lines. We’ll just be listed as missing-in-action.”

The Captain nodded. “You’re probably right; however, it is also true that as long as we’re alive there is the possibility of getting home. We have plenty of water, sufficient power for environmental systems and, if we ration, 45 days of food. Another United Planets ship could come within range.”

“Our orders were to map and survey the system and report on any enemy activity and,” he paused, looked at the assembled officers and continued with even more conviction, “We will fulfill our mission.” He paused again and his tone lighted just a touch, “While we’re doing that I need all of you to remain upbeat. Stop the idle scuttlebutt on the ship and” he said firmly, “We need to put off any talk of dying as long as we can. Do you all understand what you must do?”

“Yes sir,” came the reply almost in unison.

“Can we replicate the parts?” Amy asked.

Everyone looked from Amy to Chief Zengal.

“I’ve already had someone run the energy, mass and time figures. The system we have is designed for creating small critical parts,” Zengal said carefully.

“I don’t care what it’s designed for, Isaac. What can we make it do?” the captain stated. “Could we replicate the minimal controls we would need?”

“No, we would all be dead and cold before we could replicate the controls.”

“Okay.” Captain Harris said flatly. “I have one last item before I let you all go back to work. The Captain looked directly at Amy. “Lieutenant Palmer, would you come forward?”

Amy suppressed the urge to say, “Me?” As she neared the Captain he gestured for her to stand by his side.

“Lieutenant Palmer, I wish this came under better circumstances but you are now the engineering officer.”

“Oh? Yes sir.”

“And as the next senior officer you are now the acting executive officer.”

Amy’s mind raced. She knew she was the senior lieutenant, but she now realized that with the death of Commander Brad Abrams, Commander Chou and Lieutenant Commander Connors she was the next senior after the captain. “Yes sir,” she said trying to sound confident.

“And I still need you as environmental officer.”

I’m not going to die of boredom. “Yes sir,” she said again.

The Captain looked out over his assembled officers. “Okay people let’s get back to work. XO dismiss the crew.”

Amy, feeling a bit self-conscious, called the group to attention and dismissed them. As she turned to leave, Chief Zengal stepped closer. “I look forward to working with you in engineering and speaking of work we need a new watch bill. Shall I take….”

Amy sighed. Here it comes—the workload from hell. “I’ll take care of it Chief.”

The Captain now stood at her side. “Lieutenant, Chief, would you both stay for a moment.” He paused as the crew departed and watched as the last one out secured the hatch, leaving the three alone in the compartment. “Since Mirage can’t run from the Hex ships or mines,” the Captain said, “I want us to hide. Can we get the ship into the Altair Kuiper Belt?”

“We’re still near the edge of the system,” Amy said with a nod.

“Yes,” Chief Zengal said, “if we divert power to the Bias Drive from all but critical systems, I can get you a second or two at near light speed and the thrusters still work. It would be slow, but we can get there.”

“Good. We can hide there until…” The captain’s voice trailed off. “Thank you Chief, that will be all.”

“Yes sir,” the Chief replied and walked away.

When they were alone the captain sighed. “Amy, what I’m about to discuss with you must stay in this room.”

She nodded

“Do you remember your studies of World War II at the academy?”

“Some. It’s a required subject.”

“Do you remember the Kamikazes of Japan during the war?

“History was never my strong subject.”

Captain Harris frowned. “Because Japan was losing the war they needed to make every plane, bomb and drop of fuel count. The bombs back then were simple devices, they fell on a target and exploded on impact. They trained young pilots just enough to fly out to the American fleet and dive the plane, bomb and all, into the ship.”

“Sir, why are you telling me this?”

“Because Lieutenant, if nothing changes, if we can’t leave the Altair system, I’m still going to try and make every gram of this ship count for the war effort.”

“You’re going to ram a Hex ship?”

“I’m sure they still patrol this system on a regular basis. When we spot an enemy ship we’ll do the best attack we can but, the last missile, we’ll ram up their ass and light it off.”

Amy hoped her surprise did not show on her face.

“With the anti-matter we have onboard I’m sure it would destroy them and any nearby enemy ships.”

“Along with us,” Amy said looking at the Captain. “I guess that would be better than slow starvation.”

“I think so,” Captain Harris replied. “Still, I want you to keep an engineering team constantly working on the fusion control room. It will give the crew hope and, who knows, we might still find a way home.”

“Yes sir.”

“I’m also going to have the sensor techs survey this system and have the rest of the crew run a series of battle drills.”

“For our final Kamikaze attack?”

“Yes and I don’t want anyone to have time to think about our situation.”

As she left the Captain’s cabin, she wondered, do the Hex have an ass?

* * *

The ships bell rang twice signaling to all on the bridge the start of the hour. Amy turned in the command chair and looked at the clock. It was 0100. A technician nearby yawned and, involuntarily, she followed. I hate mid-watches. She sat a stack of reports and memos on the table beside the command chair, stood and arched her back. I’ll never get all this paperwork done. One good thing about being the executive officer was that this would be her last watch as an Officer of the Deck.

Amy knew she would fall asleep if she read one more report, so she walked slowly around the bridge. As she moved about the compartment, she glanced at the various workstations. One display showed that power output from the fission reactor was adequate for current usage. Another showed thrusters were on automatic, but none were firing. The ship coasted in the Kuiper belt.

The holo of the Altair system displayed several asteroids in the area, but none in orbits that were a hazard to the ship. Again, she searched the display for the five planets on this side of the Altair star. It helped focus her tired mind, but it was a useless exercise. Still staring at the screen, she smiled, something new, a comet was now within sensor range. Turning to the sensor tech she asked, “When do you think we’ll be done with mapping the system?”

He rubbed his face and said, “Oh, we’ve done about thirty percent over the last few days so…”

“What was that?” the communications tech exclaimed.

Amy turned toward the tech.

The technician pressed a hand against his earpiece and stared at the screen in front of him.

“What?” Amy asked as she walked towards him.

“It’s a distress beacon.”

“Really?” It was a mixture of question and query. No other humans were supposed to be in the system and the Hex didn’t seem to use distress signals.

“It’s a standard United Planets beacon,” he said and turned to the sensor tech. “Ramon, I’ll need your help to get a fix on the signal. It’s very weak on 500 kilohertz.”

“I hear it!” Ramon’s fingers flew across his sensor control panel as he triangulated the distress beacon. In less than a minute, he had a fix on the location of the signal. “It’s coming from very near a large asteroid about 40,000 kilometers from here.

Amy walked back to the command chair. “Helm plot the course.” Then she pressed the commlink pad and said, “Captain your presence is requested on the bridge.”

Captain Harris entered the compartment in less than two minutes. Even though it was the middle of the night he was dressed in a clean, well pressed, uniform.

Amy briefed him as he entered.

Walking up to the technicians the captain asked, “Any more news about what you two have found?”

“The signal is automated and repeating,” the communications tech advised.

“It’s coming from an unidentified object very near a large asteroid. Both the asteroid and the signal source are in an elliptical orbit around the Altair star.” Ramon added.

The Captain peered over his shoulder. “It has to be a vessel of some type. What can you tell me about it?”

“Not much sir. So far we have only used passive sensors on the target,” Ramon replied. “The signal source is trailing the asteroid by less than ten kilometers and is somewhat hidden by it. No infrared or electromagnetic emissions have been detected. We’ve only been able to determine some rough dimensions by noting the blocking of background starlight and radiation as it passes by various points on its orbit. Do you want us to use active sensors?”

The Captain rubbed his chin.

Amy tensed and waited for his decision. Active sensors would reveal much more information but, if this were a Hex trap, the sensors would also reveal the location of the Mirage.

“No,” the captain replied. Turning to Amy he said, “Thank you Lieutenant, I think I’ll take it from here.

“Yes sir,” she said and assumed her normal bridge post at environmental systems.

In an almost conversational voice the captain said, “General quarters.”

The Petty Officer of the Watch announced general quarters to the ship and sounded the klaxon.

“Rig for stealth,” the captain said in the same conversational tone, “and helm I need an intercept course to the beacon.”

“Aye sir. Course has already been plotted.” The helmsman said with a note of pride.

“Good job,” the captain replied.

“What’s going on?” Marcus asked Amy as he entered and assumed his post.

“We’re receiving a UP distress beacon,” Amy replied.

“Really,” he said as his eyes widened. He turned and walked over to Ramon.

Moments later the Petty Officer of the Watch announced, “General Quarters and Stealth are set throughout the ship.”

“Good,” the captain replied. “Proceed with a one ‘G’ thrust. Increase velocity to 30,000 KPH.”

As Mirage moved closer, the Captain ordered the ship to slow. At 1,000 kilometers from the source of the distress signal, Ramon said he was certain it was a ship, but he couldn’t be sure of much more.

“Assume a parallel course keeping 1,000 kilometers from the source,” the captain ordered.

“Aye sir. Speed of the object is 31,824 KPH in an elliptical orbit. Adjusting velocity to match,” the helmsman responded. As the Mirage achieved a parallel course, the signal died.

The captain’s face was instantly tense; his gaze fixed on the holo display which showed almost nothing. “Begin active sensor sweeps,” he ordered. “I want to know if anything moves towards us. Engineering prepare to go to maximum thrust.”

Within moments Marcus announced, “Sir, there are no objects on an approach vector. The ship is a recon ship, Chameleon class. There’s major damage to the bridge and bow, a blast hole where the docking port should be and some damage just forward of engineering. There are no infrared or electromagnetic signatures.”

The lack of emissions from the vessel told Amy there was no heat radiating or equipment functioning on the ship. The ship was as dead and cold as space. “As far as I know we’ve lost only one recon ship in this system and that was the prototype, the Chameleon,” she said.

“I think you’re right,” Captain Harris said looking at her intently.

The captain’s gaze remained fixed on Amy for a moment, long enough for her to wonder why.

Turning away he said, “Set restricted maneuvering and close to one kilometer.”

Both the helmsman and the Petty Officer of the Watch responded, “Aye sir.” The Petty Officer of the Watch announced to the ship, “Set restricted maneuvering procedures,” and sounded the alarm.

“And get Mumbai ready,” the captain said. “We’ll have it check out the ship.”

Thirty minutes later the RT unit, exited Mirage using a thruster pack secured to its back and traveled to the derelict ship. The robotic humanoid pulled a cargo sled along with power packs and tools.

“Show me the view from Mumbai,” the captain said.

The robotic unit had artificial intelligence and required only minimum control, but a technician did monitor his work on a video screen. That tech directed the video from RT into the holographic projection on the bridge. The powerful light built into its head like forehead illuminated the derelict ship as Mumbai glided over it.

“Sir, how do you want RT unit to enter the ship?” he asked. “There is a gaping hole where the bridge should be and most of the bow is gone. There is also a smaller blast hole a few frames forward of engineering.”

“First do a complete survey of the outside. Then bring Mumbai in through the docking port. I don’t want to take the chance of getting it tangled in debris at one of the blast points. Once you have the unit onboard the Chameleon have it survey engineering and the auxiliary control room.”

“Aye, sir.”

Completing the exterior survey and finding no Hex traps the petty officer told Mumbai to plug a power pack into the docking bay and enter the ship. The interior of the vessel was as black as deep space and as cold. Mumbai’s light provided the only illumination.

“Instruments read a temperature of 2.7 Kelvin,” Ramon said.

Leaving the docking port Mumbai entered a portion of the ship that had not decompressed and proceeded toward engineering.

Amy shuddered as she looked at what had been the ship’s atmosphere now covering all surfaces as ice. It’s colder than minus two hundred degrees over there.

“What’s that?” One of the crew asked.

The petty officer controlling the robot saw it also. “Mumbai stop and turn left.”

As the unit turned and illuminated the spot Amy said, “It’s a body.” She had seen corpses like this before. Exposed to the vacuum of space, the body was quickly mummified. Her stomach churned and twisted in a knot. Father? She shook her head. No, he wouldn’t have been here at the end. She repeated it several times trying to convince herself.

Captain Harris looked at Amy but said nothing.

It appeared the engineering spaces had decompressed during the battle but were largely intact. Both the fusion and fission reactors were offline but intact.

“If both reactors are shut down and every battery is as cold as space, how did we get the distress call?” Marcus asked no one in particular.

“That’s a good question,” the Captain replied. “Have Mumbai check out the auxiliary control room and do a complete survey of the ship’s interior.”

“Aye, sir.”

“Secure from general quarters,” the captain said. “Lieutenant Ralston, you have the bridge. XO, please come with me.”

Amy turned to Marcus in surprise. It was still her watch.

Marcus shrugged and said, “Yes sir.”

Amy followed the Captain to the tiny ready room just off the bridge. The Captain turned on the monitors above the cramped corner desk and then sat on the bunk. He motioned for Amy to sit in the only chair.

“If it turns out the Chameleon is not booby trapped I’m wondering if we can we use the fusion controls from it to repair our ship?”

Amy smiled. “I was thinking the same thing. The fusion reactor on the Chameleon is an earlier type. The controls are very different.”

The Captain frowned, “But?”

“I’ll make it work.” I’m not sure how yet but I’ll find a way.

“Good. I’m sure you can do it. We have to—or die trying.”

“No pressure,” Amy said with a sardonic grin.

With a twinkle in his eye he said, “None at all.” He stood. “Work up a plan of action with Chief Zengal, but not a word to anyone else about this until we know more. As soon as the survey of the Chameleon is complete, report back to me with your proposal.”

“Yes sir.”

Amy stepped back on the bridge. “I’m sorry Marcus but the Captain has a project he wants me to do. Could you…” She stopped herself. “I need you to take the watch.”

He frowned then grinned. “No problem. Sleep is for the weak.”

Amy yawned. “I would love to be weak right now.” She pressed the commlink and said, “Chief Zengal, meet me in engineering.”

* * *

Amy stood and stretched. She should have been asleep hours ago. “How long have we been working on this plan Chief?”

“Three hours, more or less.”

Amy moaned.

“But I think we’ve got a plan,” he said looking over the diagrams and notes. “I think we can do this.”

Amy agreed and the chief went to get a pad. After he left, Amy sat down and put her head on the table.

“XO?”

Amy’s head shot up from the table. “Oh, sorry Chief, I must have dozed off.”

“Yeah, about an hour ago.”

“What!”

“Don’t launch,” he said holding his hand up. “The bridge just notified me the survey of the Chameleon is complete. Nothing unusual was found. Here’s what we talked about all nice and pretty.” He handed her a pad.

Amy scanned it.

“I’ve scheduled myself to go over with the first team to Chameleon,” the Chief said. “I was asleep when this all began so I’ve got a lot more rest than you. You’ll relieve me in twelve hours.”

As she stood she said, “Thank you Chief…”

“No problem XO.”

“…but I should go over first.”

The Chief rubbed his chin. “We need to talk.”

Standing before a mirror, she rubbed her eyes and checked her uniform. “I don’t really have time…”

“It’ll just take a moment.” He didn’t wait for a reply. “Look, I know the Captain put you in charge of engineering and you still have environmental systems and you’re the XO, but you can’t do all of it alone.”

“What choice do I have Chief?” She said turning to leave.

“I didn’t say you can’t do it, I said you can’t do it—alone.”

She paused. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I’ve been working in engineering departments for almost as long as you’ve been alive.”

“You’re a good engineer Chief, but what has that got to do with my duties?”

He looked her in the eye. “I can do all the routine stuff, most personnel issues, the watch bill and other paperwork, and give it to you for review and signature. I can do the same for your old department, Environmental Systems, if you want. Anything out of the ordinary happens, I’ll let you know and,” he said firmly, “I can get an engineering crew warming spaces and restoring power on the derelict.”

She sighed. “I haven’t delegated a thing have I?”

“No,” he smiled, “but you’re not the first to make that mistake.”

“Okay Chief you go over first and for the admin duties I’ll write a memo…”

“I’ll write it,” the Chief said. “You sign it.”

They both smiled. She grabbed the pad and read the Chief’s report as she walked to the ready room.

* * *

“The survey is complete, sir. No problems or traps were found,” Amy reported. “However, Mumbai did find eight bodies and, uh, some parts.”

Once again, the captain gazed at her intently, but said nothing. “Thank you XO. Sit down,” he gestured toward the chair and sat the report on the bunk. “I need us to get aboard the Chameleon and see if we can do this quickly. What is your plan?”

Amy briefed him. The idea was to bring the Mirage just 300 meters off the Chameleon in a parallel orbit. Mumbai would then manually open the doors to the small cargo bay on the derelict ship. Both vessels were too small to have a shuttle but they did have escape pods and those pods had small maneuvering thrusters. In an emergency twenty people could cram into a pod. The plan was that crews of fourteen would ferry back and forth between ship cargo bays in the pods.

Power was the first priority. Five billion kilometers from the Altair star, sunlight did not provide much power but, engineering teams would push and pull Chameleon’s solar panels so they collected what little energy was available. When they had accomplished this, they would turn their attention to the fission reactor and other critical systems.

“Great,” the Captain said standing and walking to the door of the ready room, “I notice you’re not going over with the first crew.”

“Ah…”

“You were on the mid-watch correct?”

“Yes sir.”

The Captain nodded. “Good idea to have the chief get things started.

“Ah, yes sir. It was his idea.”

“I’m glad you took his suggestion. Implement the plan.”

Amy finished the mid-watch on an adrenalin high wondering if one of the bodies they found was her father and if his old ship might provide the parts needed to repair their vessel. When the first crew was safely onboard the Chameleon she went to her cabin.

* * *

Amy rubbed the sleep from her eyes trying to hold the memory of a dream about her father. But, as most dreams do, it slipped away. Pulling the cover back she dropped her feet to the cold deck. She had never told the captain about her father, she didn’t even know if his body had been found, but she wanted to at least retrieve some of his personal effects while she was onboard the Chameleon.

“Lieutenant Palmer to the captain’s quarters,” the voice over the commlink announced.

Amy’s stomach twisted in a knot. They’ve found his body.

She dressed quickly then walked to the captain’s cabin like a condemned prisoner headed to the gallows. Pausing at the door she sighed and accepted the news she was about to receive.

“I know you’re scheduled to relieve the Chief on the Chameleon in a couple of hours but I need you to head another team.

“To recover the bodies?”

“No,” he said. Looking her directly in the eye he paused, then said, “But I’ve been waiting for you to talk about your father.”

“Sir?”

He gestured toward a chair. “Commander Palmer was a good man.”

Sitting down she asked, “You knew him?”

“Gary and I were classmates at the academy.” He smiled at Amy. “I even held his only daughter just a couple of weeks after she was born.”

Her face flushed. Me? You held me as a baby and now I’m your XO. This is embarrassing.

“I was sorry to hear he didn’t come back from Altair and I plan on finding him, but I’m not going to send his daughter to recover his body. I’ve assigned someone else to take care of that.”

“I can do it. I even want too,” she said surprised at her own statement.

“It’s not a question of your ability,” he said shaking his head, “I wouldn’t send any son or daughter to do that. I need you over there as the Environment Systems officer.”

Amy was confused. The ship is a frozen derelict.

“The work is going slower than the Chief expected largely because the teams are working in suits on frozen equipment in zero gravity. We need to get the equipment from the Chameleon as quickly as possible so, at least in some parts of the ship, we’re going to need to warm it up, restore gravity and atmosphere.”

“Oh,” Amy said overwhelmed at the thought of bringing the Chameleon’s environmental systems back online after years of exposure to the cold and vacuum of space. Great, more work, less sleep. At least it gives me a reason to board the ship and a chance to get some of Dad’s personal effects. “Yes sir. I’ll get right on it.”

“Thank you,” he said with a smile.

She paused. “Sir, who is going to recover the bodies?”

“Corpsman Salazar is already retrieving them.”

* * *

Corpsman Salazar checked the list from the survey. Mumbai was heading back to the airlock with a cadaver. That left one. He headed forward from engineering with a body bag and tools to recover it. Two engineering teams were now working in and around the engineering spaces. The area was well lit and they were warming it but, he grumbled, I get the job of retrieving corpses from every cold, black, airless crevice of this ship. Choose your rate, choose your fate.

There was no gravity on the ship so he was careful to always keep at least one boot in magnetic contact with the deck. With each step, the clang echoed in his suit. Only the sound of his own breathing and footsteps now kept him company. Stopping at the junction of four passageways, his light revealed a hatch set in the deck of an alcove off the main passageway. One bulkhead had blown out, leaving conduit wires and other ruble strewn about. Probably due to decompression during the battle.

Soft static came over his suit radio as he looked over the debris. Was there a voice in the static? He adjusted the volume and the RF gain on the radio. There it is again.

“Any person on this net, this is Corpsman Salazar. Radio check.” The weird static was his only reply. You have an over active imagination. Just get the last body and get off this ship. He switched his radio to standby and looked around trying to remember which passageway to take.

Sadness seemed to well up within him from nowhere. How many good people died on this ship? He could almost see the final moments of the crew as light and power died, bulkheads strained and metal twisted under the force of explosive decompression. The air pressure dropped to zero and ripped their last breath from their lungs. They tried to scream as their blood boiled and their skin turned to leather but, without air, no sound escaped their lips. It was agony, but only for a moment. The awareness of self in the cold, unchanging darkness and the memories of a life now gone are what brought deep, endless loneliness. That was the real pain, the pain that ate at the soul.

Oh, the dreams cut off that day, the love unrequited. Don’t leave me; bring me home.

Salazar felt a thud in his chest as his boots lost contact with the deck. Floating, he flailed his arms in alarm. Two arms thrust out of the darkness and grabbed his breastplate.

The corpsman screamed.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t see you standing there.” Amy said smiling, “Did I scare you?”

Salazar quickly checked his radio. He was thankful it was on standby and the crew had been spared his moment of panic. Switching to voice activation he said breathlessly, “No, I was just distracted. You startled me at bit, that’s all.” Planting his feet back on the deck he asked, “What are you doing here?”

“Collecting things…from my father’s cabin,” she replied.

“Oh, yes, the Captain mentioned your father served on the Chameleon. I…I’m sorry. I was heading back towards engineering,” he lied. “Is that where you are going?”

“Yes,” she smiled.

“I’ll walk back with you.”

“Okay.”

Over the radio Salazar called; “Mumbai retrieve the last body and meet me back at the airlock.” As they walked towards engineering, he turned to Amy and said, “I didn’t know you were working over here.”

“The captain wants me to restore some life support but I can’t do anything until we warm up the environmental plant. My people are connecting the heaters right now.”

“Oh,” he said, and then after a pause he stated, “It must be hard… I’m sorry. You probably don’t want to talk about it.”

“No, it’s okay. Being here has stirred up a lot of memories. That’s why I bumped into you just now; I was thinking about my dad as I came down the passageway and I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.” She paused, bit her lip, then asked, “Have you found him?”

“I can’t be sure yet.”

* * *

Later in sickbay, corpsman Salazar looked about as the robotic unit entered carrying the last body. He glanced about looking for a place to put it. Quickly he cleared the last open table and pointed. “Mumbai set the body here.” Turning away, he resumed his count. With this last one, he had eight largely intact bodies and 23 assorted parts. He nodded approvingly, that was all that had been discovered during the survey. “Mumbai,” he said, “return to your maintenance station.”

Mumbai nodded and left.

Salazar walked over to the commlink and reported to the Captain, “Sir recovery of cadavers is complete.”

“Thank you, corpsman, Captain Harris paused. “I need you to determine the identity of these individuals. I want to be able to tell Lieutenant Palmer if we have recovered the body of her father.”

“Yes, sir. The name badges and other uniform items indicate we don’t have Commander Palmer but I’ll scan the PICs and do DNA comparisons on all remains.”

“Good. And either way let me know first.”

Salazar collected his equipment and positioned the first corpse for scanning. As he began the automatic door at the entrance to sickbay opened.

“Hello Lieutenant, ah, XO. How can I help you?” He asked as Amy entered.

“I was wondering what you might have found out.” She said as she gazed at the body bags from the far side of sickbay.

“Nothing yet, but, well, it would be better if you waited somewhere else.”

“You’ll tell me when you know?”

“The Captain wants to know first, but yes, after that, of course.”

Amy nodded and left sickbay.

Salazar scanned the first corpse looking for the PIC implanted in the right thigh of every soldier, sailor and marine upon induction into the military. When he found it, he began downloading the personal, medical and dental information. As he expected it was not Commander Palmer. Finishing the scan, he moved on to the next body, bent over the table and adjusted the scanner.

The corpsman heard footsteps behind him as he worked. It was not unusual so he continued to work even as they came up behind him. He got the impression it was Amy, the XO. It seemed he could almost hear her slow even breathing just behind him.

“XO, I really think it would be better if you waited outside.” He paused still bent over the corpse. The breathing stopped but no one spoke or moved. “XO…” he spun around, but no one was behind him. He was alone. Heart pounding, he looked left and right and back again. He stood still and listened for any movement, but all he heard was the fan of the nearby vent. It was my imagination…just my overactive imagination. Convinced he was alone; he had no desire to be alone, and pressed the commlink. “Seaman Daniels, could I get you to help me in sickbay?”

* * *

After a twelve-hour shift, thawing, repairing and troubleshooting a dozen environmental systems, Amy wanted to relax and clear her mind before going to her bunk but as she pulled herself through the hatch back onboard the Mirage a petty officer waited for her.

“XO, the Captain would like to see you.”

She was sure she knew why and again attempted to prepare herself for the news as she walked to the captain’s cabin.

“Hello Amy,” he said as she came in. “I’m sorry to say your father is still missing in action.”

She nodded. “Corpsman Sal identified all of them?”

“Yes. DNA tests and PICs confirmed that none are related to you.”

Is that good news or bad news? Should I be happy? She realized she was staring at the captain. “I…I understand.”

“What can you tell me about the environmental systems on the Chameleon?”

“Most of the systems were intact. We’ll have gravity and a breathable atmosphere in the critical areas of the ship within two days.”

“Good. I hope to retrieve the Chameleon’s log, get the parts we need, and be able to leave this system soon.”

“How is the food supply holding out, sir?” Amy asked.

“We’ll be okay for a couple of weeks but the cooks are already running out of menu options.” Captain Harris gave Amy a fatherly smile and said, “Why don’t you get some food before the cook serves up the freeze dried crap from the escape pods.”

“Yes, thank you sir,” she said and departed.

* * *

Amy set the pad down and looked up at the ship’s clock, uncertain what day of the week it was or how many days she had been working on the Chameleon. The entire crew of the Mirage was now on twelve-hour shifts so every day was much the same, cram twenty-four hours of work on two ships into one twelve hour shift. Eating and sleeping were on your own time.

Rubbing her eyes, she continued putting on her spacesuit in a warm and pressurized compartment next to the Chameleon cargo bay. Twelve hours from now, she knew she would be back here for the return to the Mirage, eat supper and sleep. Reaching for her helmet, she saw Marcus walk in carrying a large toolbox.

“Hi Marcus. Are you lost?” she said with a smile.

“Not yet, but which way is the auxiliary control room?”

Amy smiled still putting on her suit, “Through the airlock there,” she said pointing. “I’m sorry but we don’t have life support up in that part of the ship.”

Marcus sighed and walked to one of the lockers where suits were stored.

Amy said, “I’d wait and show you the way, but the techs have reported a problem with some graviton emitters. I need to check them right away.”

“No problem. If I get lost I’ll leave bread crumbs.”

“Huh?”

“It’s from an old children’s story,” he said with a forced grin. “Go on and fix your emitters.”

Minutes later, Amy walked down the cold, airless, passageway forward from engineering. One bulkhead had buckled and someone had pushed debris out of the way down one unused corridor. Two emergency lights on either end of the long corridor provided only modest illumination. Why didn’t I have someone restore environmental systems to this area? Amy stopped at a junction of four passageways. A hatch was set in the deck of an alcove off the main walkway.

Soft static came over her suit radio. Was someone calling? She adjusted the volume and the RF gain on the radio.

“Last call this net. This is Lieutenant Palmer. Please repeat your call.”

Amy?

Was that static or did she hear her name. She repeated her call over the radio as thoughts of her father flowed through her mind. He walked this passageway and probably died near here. If he had lived, he might have been something like Marcus, kind and happy. Older but similar. Dad might have liked him. Suddenly chilled, she checked her suit temperature. It was fine. Goose bumps formed on her arms. She continued on, picking up her pace in a desire to be back with people.

Over her suit radio came an alarm and a voice, “Gravity failure, deck five.”

Unable to stop her forward momentum, she shot upward hitting her helmet hard on the overhead. Projected in a corner of her helmet visor was a display of the spacesuit system status. Instantly every warning light came on and faded to black as she floated aimlessly down a cold, dark and airless passageway.

“Suit failure, deck five, frame 192,” she called out. She knew the suit radio was dead, but she had to try. The suit was well insulted against the cold of space, but the temperature in it would soon rise as her body heat warmed the limited and now uncirculated air. Control your breathing. She had only a few minutes of good air in the suit. Pushing off the overhead she clumsily brought her feet into magnetic contact with the deck. She wanted to run, but she knew that would quickly consume her limited air supply. She forced herself to walk in a quick, but steady, pace back towards her crewmates in engineering. All suit visors were treated so they would not fog up, but Amy was wondering when this suit had last been treated as it began to fog right in front of her nose and mouth.

“Amy?”

She swore she heard someone call out as she entered the junction of four passageways. Feeling the switches on the side of the suit, she ensured the radio was on voice activation as she called out “Suit failure, deck five, frame 170.” But the radio was dead.

She cursed her predicament. Control your breathing. The middle of her visor was now so fogged all that remained was peripheral vision. She stumbled, fell forward and lost magnetic contact with the deck. In near panic she flailed her arms in an attempt to grab onto something.

Sadness welled up within her. How many people had died on this ship?  She grabbed a panel on the bulkhead and pushed her way along. If she did not make it back to engineering quickly she would slowly lose consciousness, slip into a coma and then die. That’s not how I want to go. But, at least it would be more peaceful then it was for Dad and the rest of them that didn’t get off this ship.

Sorrow seemed to seep into her suit along with the chill of the ship. It must have been awful for the crew as the light and power failed, bulkheads straining and metal twisting with the explosive decompression. The air pressure dropping to zero in a second would have ripped the last breath from their lungs. They would have tried to scream as their blood boiled and their skin turned to leather but without air no sound would have escaped their lips.

Is that how you died, Daddy? Is that what you felt? She shook her head. Focus. Remember what you’re doing.

Her arms ached as she pulled herself along the passageway. Tired and suddenly sleepy she mumbled, “Don’t leave me, Daddy. Where are you?”

Here.

* * *

Amy gasped, coughed, tasted bile and slowly opened her eyes. She was lying on the deck with her helmet off. Corpsman Salazar leaned over her head.

“Stay with me Lieutenant,” he said firmly. “Breathe.”

She turned her head, gasped and then breathed in deeply. Seconds later, as her respiration became normal, she surveyed her surroundings. It looked like half the crew was in a circle around her. Marcus, still mostly in his spacesuit, knelt beside her holding her helmet.

“Welcome back XO,” Corpsman Salazar said as he checked Amy’s vital signs on a portable monitor. “How do you feel?”

“Awful,” she said weakly.

“That’s great to hear,” the medic replied with a broad grin. “Let’s get you back to sickbay.”

Marcus jumped up. “I’ll help.”

* * *

“Reveille, reveille, all hands heave out,” came the announcement over the commlink as the lights shifted from dim to normal brightness. Amy squinted as she awoke in a bed at one end of sickbay. Across, by the door, she saw Corpsman Salazar working at his desk.

The plan of the day was still being read over the commlink when Captain Harris walked into sickbay, already clean-shaven and in an inspection ready uniform. Corpsman Salazar snapped to attention.

“At ease, corpsman. How’s your patient?”

“She’ll be fine, sir. If she gets some rest.”

Walking over to Amy the Captain said, “We’re lucky Marcus found you.”

“He found me?”

“Yes. He said he got lost and found you floating down a passageway.”

Amy felt her face flush. “I’d really like to get out of here.”

“What do you say corpsman?”

Salazar looked intently at Amy, “Well, as long as you get some rest, XO.”

The Captain looked at both Amy and Salazar. “Okay. How about 24 hours of no duty?”

“Yes sir, that will be plenty for me,” Amy smiled.

“Yes sir, that’ll be enough,” the corpsman agreed.

“You heard the doc. Report to me tomorrow morning,” the Captain said, turned, and walked away.

Amy had no plans to perform any regular duties, but there was something she had to figure out. She made her way to the escape pods and took the next one back over to the Chameleon. Amy hoped to be back on the Mirage before the Captain knew she was gone.

She was pleased to discover that after her accident the Captain had ordered all spaces on the Chameleon where members of the crew were working or passing through be provided with a breathable atmosphere. Avoiding the passageway where she had the accident, Amy walked to the auxiliary control room. As she entered the one crewmember on duty turned and nodded to her.

“Good to see you, Lieutenant,” the crewmember said. “Can I help you with anything?”

“No, I’ve just got something I need to figure out.” Amy walked slowly and silently around the control room mentally noting which systems would have been still operational and critical in the last minutes as the Chameleon’s crew launched escape pods.

“Attention on deck!” The crewmember announced.

Amy was startled but turned quickly and snapped to attention. “Hello sir. What brings you to the Chameleon?”

“I think I should be asking you that. Didn’t I give you 24 hours with no duty just an hour ago?”

Amy hesitated to say, but decided it was the only way to explain why she was here. “Well, yes sir but I’ve been thinking about my dad, uh, Commander Palmer. I’m convinced his body is on this ship.” I sound like some foolish child.

“Every compartment has been searched.”

“I’ve been trying to figure out exactly what he would have been doing at the end.”

“And what have you come up with?”

“After the bridge was hit and he realized he was the senior officer he would have gone here.”

“I agree.”

“He would have then maneuvered the ship out of harm’s way behind the line of our ships.”

“I still agree and the telemetry data we’ve recovered seems to show that someone did just what you suggest. So where is he?”

“Well, sir, the ship couldn’t jump to hyperspace with the damage it had endured. When the battle turned against us he would have been the one to order the crew to abandon ship.”

“Yes and when they were gone he should have been on the last escape pod.”

Amy said, looking him straight in the eye, “With all due respect sir, no. He had one final duty to perform.”

“Yes,” he said slowly, “destroy the ship.”

Amy nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“That’s done either from the bridge, which was destroyed, or main engineering. But he couldn’t get through the fire and debris just forward of engineering.”

“But he would have tried to find a way to do it,” Amy said.

“Yes, but how?”

“I don’t know, sir. I’m not all that familiar with these old ships.”

The captain’s eyes became distant as he seemed to consider what she had said. “They’re not that old Lieutenant, I served on one.” His eyes lit up and he turned for the door. “Come with me.”

The captain walked quickly down the corridor, slid down a ladder and then another, finally coming to a junction of four passageways. A hatch was set in the deck of an alcove off the main passageway.

A chill shot through Amy’s body as she remembered both of the times she had been here. Pointing to the hatch in the alcove the captain said, “This maintenance shaft goes directly into engineering.” He bent down to spin the wheel on the hatch, but it was jammed. “When this area decompressed it probably slammed shut and became misaligned.” The captain pulled a commlink from his pocket and tried to call. “Only static on this unit. Try yours.”

She tried. “Same thing. Only static.”

“We’ll get the hatch opened. I’ll go get help. Do you want to wait here?”

Staring at the hatch, she nodded. As he hurried aft towards engineering she found a long steel bar in the nearby debris and wedged it in the wheel. She pushed then pulled on the bar, then thrust her feet against the bulkhead and pushed again. Abruptly the wheel turned and she plopped to the deck. After getting up she tried the wheel but found it still stiff. She stuck the bar into the wheel again and with the added leverage turned it, releasing the hatch. Lifting it revealed a typical maintenance shaft with barely enough space to allow a technician to crawl.

Retrieving the flashlight from her belt, she cautiously looked down the narrow passage. Are you here? She saw nothing but the shaft disappearing into darkness. As she dropped down into the tight space, she knew the logical choice was to wait for the Captain and others to return, but logic was not in control. I’m going to do this. I’m going to find Dad.

The metal was cold to the touch and after crawling a few meters she could see her own breath. A few meters farther debris blocked the crawl space at a turn. In the narrow confines she pulled on conduit, insulation and cable, shoving it behind her. Pulling away an aluminum plate, she spotted a tattered sleeve. Is it you? She moved up as close as she could, dragging more wreckage away revealing a mummified arm. Is it you dad? She wanted to find him and bring him home, but some corner of her mind didn’t want to find him. That tiny corner still held the childhood memories of a living father. Sweat flowed down her forehead into her eyes as she carefully removed more wreckage revealing the torso.

Dust and shards covered the chest. Using one hand in the tight space she tenderly brushed the debris away until she saw it. The nametag on the jacket read, Commander Gary Palmer.

“Daddy,” she said as sorrow swept over her, “I found you.” Tears rolled down her cheeks. “Your duty is done. You are relieved.”

* * *

After Corpsman Salazar positively identified the remains technicians setup holo projectors in the Mirage cargo bay.

Amy stared at the image of the Chameleon that covered an entire wall of the compartment. It would all soon be over.

She faced the first man in her division. His uniform was neat and pressed, medals and ribbons straight and in proper order. Gig line good. She moved on to the next person.

What had the Captain said, ‘It’s just like a funeral and I want everyone to look their best.’ It feels like a funeral. Childhood memories of her father lingered heavily in her mind. Is this some sort of grieving? No, I’ve felt this way ever since we entered the Altair system. Standing in front of the next person she forced herself to smile, briefly checked his dress blue uniform, and then moved on to the next. When the inspection of her small division was complete, she marched to the center front of the compartment and stood next to the projection of the Chameleon, but looked towards the entrance to the compartment a few meters away.

From her vantage point, she scanned the assembled crew in their various department and division formations. Marcus stood at attention in front of Intelligence Division. Chief Zengal stood in front of the large Engineering Department.

Marcus came forward, smiled weakly at Amy, and then stood beside her.

The Captain had scheduled the ceremony first thing in the morning so most of the crew could be in the Mirage cargo bay. As the final department completed inspection she looked forward again, staring at the Chameleon shrinking as the Mirage pulled away. It does feel like a funeral. I’ve seen many ships destroyed. Why do I care what happens to this ship?

When she looked again to the entrance the Captain stood just outside. “Mirage, attention,” she called when the Captain entered the compartment. As Captain Harris walked to the front Amy called out over the commlink, “All hands, the image of the Chameleon is now being displayed by all holo projectors and view screens.”

Captain Harris stood beside her.

“This is the captain speaking,” he said for crewmembers still on duty and listening in. He glanced along the formation before him and then continued. “The Chameleon fought well here some twenty years ago and many paid the ultimate price. We have the privilege of bringing the last of her crew home. The Chameleon has provided us with all she can—all that we need to complete our duties and return to those we love. However, because of the damage Chameleon has sustained we can’t bring her back. Therefore we have one final, solemn, duty to perform for the crew of that brave ship.”

Captain Harris did an about face. As he looked at the image of the Chameleon he brought his right arm slowly to a salute. As if he were speaking directly to the battle-scarred ship and her crew he said, “From the crew of the Mirage, well done and thank you.” He paused for a moment, still saluting, then said, “Farewell.”

Amy turned a key disabling magnetic containment on the Chameleon. Matter and anti-matter plasma flowed together destroying both in a momentary star-like burst of energy that consumed the Chameleon.

Still standing beside Amy, Marcus said softly, “Fair winds and following seas.”

Tears welled in Amy’s eyes. I can’t cry. She turned away from the crew, facing the fireball and wiped her face as casually as possible. I’ve accomplished everything that I hoped to when we came here. This may be closure, but I’m not happy. It’s like dad died just yesterday, when I found him.

When the fireball was completely gone the Captain did an about face and Amy quickly followed.

“Lieutenant Palmer, dismiss the crew and carry out the plan of the day.”

“Yes sir. All hands, dismissed!” Bells rang signaling the morning change of watch.

The image changed from the now empty space aft of the Mirage to the bow where the Bias Drive was forming a wormhole.

Amy and the Captain walked from the cargo bay. “How soon can we send a message back to Command?” the Captain asked.

“We’ve been working on the systems all night. We should be ready for the test jump in an hour. We could send the message after that.”

“Good.”

“But, sir, the fusion controls are jury rigged. I….”

“I’m aware of that. Get with the communications tech. I want to notify Command of the bias drive problems we’re having, our location and send all of our intelligence reports.”

The Captain stopped and faced Amy. “If the Hex are still watching this system then destroying the Chameleon may have attracted their attention. If not, creating a wormhole will.”

Continuing down the passageway Captain Harris said, “Do the test jump to some point outside of this system, send that message and, as quickly as possible, head for home.” The Captain stopped and rubbed his face. “I’ll be on the bridge in a half an hour to relieve you.”

* * *

After being relieved, Amy walked into the wardroom and got a cup of coffee. At a table on the far side of the compartment, four officers played poker.

“Hey Amy, ah, XO, want to lose some money?” Scott asked as he dealt.

“No thanks guys.”

“She’s afraid of my awesome poker skills,” Scott said to his companions.

“You discovered my secret,” she said in mock surprise, then added, “Aren’t you guys tired?”

“Never too tired to lose money,” another said. They all chuckled and continued to play.

Amy sat down, sipped her coffee at a table by the coffee pots. Gradually she relaxed. She took another sip as the door to the wardroom opened and Marcus entered.

“Hey Marcus,” Scott said. “Deal you in next hand?”

“No, thanks,” he said as he walked towards Amy. Stopping at the coffee pots next to her he poured himself a cup, spilling some on the counter.

Amy smiled and passed him a napkin.

As he wiped up the spill he said, “I hear you were working on the fusion reactor all night.”

“The fusion controls, actually.”

Sitting across from her he said, “I’ve got the OOD watch in thirty minutes. Did everything go well?”

“Yeah. Things are looking good. The captain gave permission to start the fusion reactor several hours ago. Just before the ceremony he gave the order to start the Bias Drive and, I think—hope, they’re both still online.”

Marcus nodded and smiled at her.

“The plan is to do a short jump out of the system as a test and then head for home.”

Over the commlink came an announcement. “The ship will shift to emergency power in one minute to facilitate final repairs.”

Moments later the overhead lights went dark leaving a single emergency light shining on the far side of the compartment opposite of Amy and Marcus. Long shadows arched along the bulkhead near where they sat.

Scott shuffled for the next hand as Amy stared at her coffee cup. Fatigue welled up in her. She wanted to drink some coffee and she wanted to sleep. She wasn’t sure if it was exhaustion or depression, but sadness seemed to consume her. Dad is dead and so were the others we found on the ship.

Talking to the three crewmembers at the table, Scott dealt the cards.

Amy sighed. It must have been awful for them as power failed, bulkheads failing, metal twisting, and the air pressure dropping. Their last breath ripped from their lungs. The pain, the awful pain as their blood boiled and their skin turned to leather. Without air they couldn’t make a sound.

Suddenly Scott stood stirring Amy from her mental fog.

He walked across the compartment toward Amy and Marcus. Projected on the bulkhead were the shadows of all the players.

“Something is wrong,” Scott said as he moved toward a dark corner opposite of the two lieutenants.

Amy’s head slid back against the bulkhead.

Russell, one of the other players looked up to see what was going on.

Scott motioned for him to join him.

The other two looked up from the cards and Scott motioned for both of them to join him in the unlit corner. As they did, he pointed to the bulkhead above Marcus and Amy. Standing, as if between them, was the shadow of a man.

“It’s an illusion. It must be. Something in the wardroom is causing it.” One of them said.

“Oh it’s in the wardroom all right, but what is it?”

“Amy,” Scott called out.

“What?” she replied irritably, her eyes half closed.

“Amy, look.”

“What?” she said rubbing her eyes.

He pointed to the bulkhead behind her. As she turned, she saw Marcus staring at the wall.

Over the commlink came the announcement, “Normal power is being restored.” The lights flashed back on eliminating all shadows.

“Did you see it?” Scott asked Amy.

“See what?”

“Did you see it, Marcus?” Scott asked.

“I’m…I’m not sure what I saw.”

“Turn off the lights. Switch on the emergency light,” Scott commanded. As they did, the card players attempted to explain what they had seen. Marcus remained silent. When only the emergency light again illuminated the compartment, no phantom materialized.

As she marched out of the wardroom, Amy said over her shoulder, “You guys need some sleep.”

Arriving at her cabin, she collapsed on the bunk. After several minutes, she reached over to the nightstand, turned the framed picture of her father so that it faced her, and clicked on a holo of assorted images of her parents. She watched the images materialize and dissolve with her head on the pillow. He’s coming home with me. Mom and I can finally put him to rest.

She rose and walked to the shower. As the water rained down on her the tears that had earlier come slowly, came in a torrent. Fatigue overpowered her as she toweled the moisture from her body and eyes. She crawled under the covers, and continued to stare at the holo as her eyes slowly closed in sleep.

Amy smiled as she looked up at the clear blue sky. The sun felt warm on her face. Her right hand held his left at the level of her head. It was pleasant, but a part of her knew that all of it was wrong. “Where are we going, Daddy?”

“We’re going home, Amy. We’ll be there soon.”

Amy looked around. They were walking across a park she had played in as a child. She glanced back over her shoulder and, as she expected, saw her primary school. She looked forward. Beyond those trees is our house. At the edge of the park, between them and home stood a plain door hung in its frame.

That’s odd. “Why is the door there, Daddy?” Amy asked as she pointed.

“That’s the way home, sweetheart,” he said picking up the pace a bit. “Come on.”

This was a dream, but she was content to walk in it with her father. Amy looked up at him towering over her. His face appeared sharp and vivid, unlike the vague and shadowy images of dreams or old memories.

He looked down at her and smiled, “I’ve missed your mommy. Will she be there when we get home?”

“Sure. Why wouldn’t she be there?”

“I’ve been away a long time.” He said with a frown.

They were alone in this dream world, but the real world seemed to sneak in occasionally with an indistinct sound or voice, like hearing bits of a conversation from the other end of a long hallway. Amy couldn’t understand most of what was said but the voices sounded worried. She looked up at her father. His face was drawn and tight.

“Daddy you’re squeezing my hand.”

“Sorry honey. We need to hurry.”

Clouds in various shades of black and gray billow with unnatural speed on the horizon.

Taking her eyes off the storm clouds Amy looked for the doorway home, but couldn’t find it. “Daddy, where’s the door?”

“It’s gone,” he said as thunder rolled across the park. Concern etched his face.

“Can we still go home?”

“We may need to be brave for a little while longer.”

“I can be brave,” she said as thunder echoed about them.

“I know you can,” he smiled as the first gusts of wind hit their faces.

Lightning struck nearby. Amy wrapped her arms around her father’s leg.

“They’re here,” he said without emotion.

“Who?”

His face was stoic as he stared at the dark clouds rolling towards them. “You need to go,” he said without looking down at her.

“No, I don’t want to leave you.”

“You’ve got to go. They’re here.”

“Who? Who Daddy?” She followed his gaze to the far side of the park and screamed. Dozens of spider-like Hex searched the far end of the park were the door had once been. As they searched, they moved towards them. She could already hear their mandibles clicking together as they talked amongst each other. Amy yanked on her father’s arm. “Run,” she screamed.

He smiled at her, but it quickly faded. “No, you go. I’ll stand watch till I know you’re safe.”

“No!”

“Duty calls. Now go!”

Heart racing, Amy jerked awake. She stared up from her bunk covered in sweat. Had it all been some strange dream? She rubbed her eyes and eased herself from bed. Walking to the sink on the bulkhead, she splashed water on her face.

Duty calls.

Her head jerked up to see her father standing behind her in the mirror. She spun around to see the faintest hint of a shadow fade to nothing on the bulkhead.

She dressed quickly.

Entering the bridge, she paused. Technicians darted about. Instead of the holographic projection, there was a blank gray bulkhead at the far end of the compartment. Red lights flashed at most workstations while several monitors spelled out WARNING in blinking crimson letters. Seeing Marcus on his back under the navigation console she hurried over to him. “What happened?”

Without standing he said, “We had power fluctuations when engineering tried to open the wormhole. Most stations crashed. We’re rebooting and doing manual re-starts.”

“Where’s the Captain?”

Marcus shrugged. “He was coming back from engineering when it happened,” he said while working on the console. “The commlink is down.”

Amy checked the environmental systems. Temperatures on the ship were steady. The heat radiators still functioned but the atmosphere plant had shutdown. Damn. She knew a technician was on duty in the compartment. They would be working to restore the system. She moved to the engineering console. Data was beginning to come in. The fusion reactor was down and the Bias Drive had shut down. She looked around. Sensor displays were black. Red lights flashed on the panels beside them.

The Hex in the dream were so vivid. Were they out there even now? We’re so blind. Taking a deep breath, she tried to reassure herself that it had all been a dream.

Over her shoulder, she could see people working on various sensors but none were on line. She wanted the sensors restored. She needed to see what was out there. Sweat beaded on her forehead. Ramon had the holo projection up but, without sensors, it looked like the entrance to a black tunnel.

Was the dream a warning? It all felt so real. She looked at her systems. There was enough air for another hour. If it wasn’t a dream do we have an hour? Her shoulders and neck ached. Her every muscle was tense. Dad was real. I was awake when I saw him.

“Commlink restored,” A technician announced. “The Captain advises he is on his way to the bridge.”

Amy turned to Ramon and asked, “Do you need help?”

He nodded.

She left her post and walked over to him.

“I’ll have the main array online in a minute. Could you synchronize the sensor inputs with the holo projection?” Ramon asked.

“Sure.” She put the system in standby.

Moments later Ramon said, “I’m sending visible light data on channel one.”

“I see it here.” She stared at the readouts. She dedicated one of the projectors for visual light display, switched it back online and sent data from the output panel to the projector. Amy looked at the display as the image formed before her. The dream was a warning. Fighting to control her panic and her voice she announced, “Sound general quarters and rig for stealth”

As the klaxon sounded, Captain Harris walked onto the bridge with an air of command.

Amy reported to him as he entered, “Three stealth AI mines currently conducting a search.”

“They converged on where we attempted to open the wormhole,” Marcus added. “Our sensors are still coming back online but, I believe, they’re using only passive sensors,”

“Good, then they don’t know where we are.”

“We saw them just in time to rig for stealth and stay out of their search pattern,” Amy said.

“Excellent.”

“I think we’re dealing with mines that are keyed to the energy released when a wormhole is created,” Marcus stated.

“I agree,” the Captain said. “Maybe we can make them believe we jumped out of the system.” Turning to the helmsman he said, “I want a minimal thrust course to take us behind that rock.” He pointed to a large asteroid between them and the Hex mines.

“Aye sir, I’ll make it look like we’re a rock drifting in that direction.” Slowly the Mirage moved towards the nearby asteroid.

“And get all the sensors back online.”

“We’ve just restored the last one,” Amy said and returned to the engineering and environmental bridge stations.

Marcus looked up from the sensor display. “Their search pattern uses the wormhole event horizon as the center point. Two mines are moving generally away from our position. One mine is headed towards us.”

All the airtight doors on the ship were sealed. Amy knew she could not go to the atmosphere plant, but she now had to ensure it came back online. She tore herself from the drama of the mines and called over the commlink, “AP plant, report.”

A moment passed before she heard the voice of the leading petty officer, “All plant personnel are present. We’ve restored the control system and we’re working on the ventilation.”

“Keep me advised.” She turned back to the holo and the approaching mine.

“We’ve matched course and speed with the asteroid,” the helmsman advised the captain.

“I’m getting a weak sensor signal that seems to be curving around the asteroid,” Ramon announced.

“The mines have switched to active sensors,” Marcus said.

“Weapons ready?” Captain Harris asked.

“Yes sir.” The fire control tech responded.

“Active sensors now clearing the asteroid horizon,” Ramon called out. “The mine has locked on us and is on an intercept course,”

“Fire!” The captain commanded.

A whoosh was immediately heard.

“Helm, maximum thrust.”

The Mirage shuddered as speed increased.

“Helm, bring us around to the far side of the asteroid.”

“Aye, sir.”

“Ramon, begin active sensor sweeps.”

A white flash on the holo projection confirmed destruction of one mine.

Mirage creaked, moaned and gradually changed course.

As the ship came into view of the enemy Ramon called out, “One of the mines has formed a communications wormhole—they’re transmitting!”

“Take them both out. Fire,” the captain commanded. Mirage shuddered as missiles flew from their tubes.

As the projectiles hurtled towards the mines Ramon announced, “Three Hex cruisers have dropped into normal space off our port.”

The missiles hit and destroyed the mines in a flash.

“The Hex cruisers have weapons lock.”

The captain cursed under his breath and turned to Amy. “XO I need maximum thrust and then we’ve got to jump.”

Amy checked her console. “The Bias Drive is still down.” Pressing the commlink she said, “Chief, I need the fusion reactor and Bias Drive, now.”

The Captain stared at her. “The Hex have a lock on us, either we jump or I go kamikaze.”

The Chief’s voice came over the commlink, “Just a few minutes, that’s all I need.”

Turning his back on Amy and the commlink the captain said, “Evasive maneuvers at maximum thrust. Do we have weapons lock?”

“Yes sir.”

“They’re firing,” Ramon called out.

“Fire at will,” the captain commanded. “Helmsman, bring us as close to that large asteroid as you can. It may provide some cover.”

The ship shuddered as more missiles flew from their tubes and debris from incoming missiles hit the hull.

Amy steadied herself in the chair. The ship rumbled and shook. She grabbed the control panel in front of her to keep from falling as the Chief worked with her to bring the reactor back online.

“Decompression on deck four, frame 83,” the damage control officer advised.

“The lead ship sustained damage to their port engine and is falling back, but continues to fire,” Marcus said. “The other two ships are closing and flanking.”

“Sir, we’re down to our last missile!” The fire control tech called to the Captain.

“Damn,” Captain Harris exclaimed, “Hold your fire on the last missile. Helm, plot an intercept course to the nearest Hex ship.”

Silence reigned on the bridge.

The helmsman and captain locked eyes. “Aye, sir,” he said slowly.

Amy turned her stare from the captain to the image of enemy ships on fast approach. It had been all for naught. We’re not going to make it. We’re not going home.

“Intercept course plotted sir,” the helmsman advised.

“Engage at maximum thrust.”

The ship creaked and then shuddered as it turned to face the closest Hex ship.

Amy realized Marcus was standing beside her. Their eyes met. He seemed to want to say something. What could someone say to another at such a moment? Goodbye? His lips moved.

Over the commlink came Chief Zengal’s voice, “We’re ready engage!”

Amy had programmed in wormhole coordinates so with only a few adjustments she engaged the Bias Drive. Turning around Amy saw the wormhole created by the bias drive. The way home. However, as she watched it slid from view as the Mirage turned to face the oncoming Hex ship. “We’re ready Captain,” she announced.

“I’m sorry Amy, we’re out of time,” the Captain replied.

“It’s open. The portal is open!” Amy declared.

She looked toward the Captain as he turned and stared at the holo.

With the most emotion he had displayed during the battle he commanded, “Abort intercept! Plot a course to the wormhole.”

“Aye, sir.”

“And fire the missile at the lead vessel,” the Captain ordered with a smile in his voice. Then turning to the helmsman he said, “Take us in.”

Mirage shuddered as lasers destroyed incoming missiles.

“Decompression on deck two, frame 18,” the damage control officer advised.

Mirage accelerated across the event horizon of the wormhole. The black of space became a vortex of colors.

“Switch to aft view,” the Captain ordered.

Everyone watched as the event horizon collapsed and disappeared.

Marcus stated what Amy knew but still wanted to hear. “The Altair event horizon has collapsed; no Hex ships followed us in.”

Captain Harris broke out in a broad grin.

Amy relaxed and sat back in her chair. An audible sigh swept the bridge followed by laughter and a few cheers.

Still smiling, the Captain announced, “Secure from general quarters and set condition three. Turning to Amy he said, “XO, you have the bridge. I’ll need damage reports in my cabin as soon as possible.”

“Yes sir,” she said as he departed.

Amy turned away as several conversations sprang up around the bridge. They would be home in a few hours. Back with family and friends. Dad stayed on watch until the last of his crew was recovered, his crippled ship destroyed and I was safe. Somehow she knew she would never sense his presence or hear the whisper of his voice again. He’s done his final duty.

Amy was once again aware that Marcus stood beside her. She looked up.

“Is it proper to ask the XO out to dinner?”

She smiled. “I’m just the acting XO.”

“Well then, how about dinner at the officer’s club when we get home?

“That would be nice.” She paused and with a sly grin asked, “but will you be ordering coffee?”

Click here to learn more about books by Kyle Pratt.

Also by the Author

Through Many Fires (Strengthen What Remains, Book 1) Terrorists smuggle a nuclear bomb into Washington D.C. and detonate it during the State of the Union Address. Army veteran and congressional staffer Caden Westmore is in nearby Bethesda and watches as a mushroom cloud grows over the capital. The next day, as he drives away from the still burning city, he learns that another city has been destroyed and then another. America is under siege. Panic ensues and society starts to unravel.

* * *

A Time to Endure (Strengthen What Remains, Book 2) The exciting saga of Major Caden Westmore continues in this, the second book of the Strengthen What Remains series. In the first book, Through Many Fires, terrorists use nuclear bombs to destroy six American cities. Now, the nation’s economy teeters on the verge of collapse. The dollar plunges, inflation runs rampant, and the next civil war threatens to decimate the wounded country. In the face of tyranny, panic, and growing hunger, Caden struggles to keep his family and town together. But how can he save his community when the nation is collapsing around it?

* * *

Titan Encounter Justin Garrett starts one morning as a respected businessman and ends the day a fugitive wanted by every power in the known universe. Fleeing with his 'sister' Mara and Naomi, a mysterious woman from Earth Empire, their only hope of refuge is with the Titans, genetically enhanced soldiers who rebelled, and murdered millions in the Titanomachy War. Hunted, even as they hunt for the Titans, the three companions slowly uncover the truth that will change the future and rewrite history.

About the Author

Hello and thank you for visiting.

I write speculative fiction in a few genres. I started out writing military and space opera science fiction. These include the Final Duty stories and Titan Encounter. Then I moved on to post-apocalyptic/action-adventure.

My first post-apocalyptic novel, Through Many Fires, became an instant hit, rocketing onto the Kindle Science Fiction Post-Apocalyptic list, reaching #10, and the Mystery and the Thriller and Suspense list, reaching #39. The second book in the series, A Time to Endure, has appeared on several genre bestseller lists. The third book in the series, Braving the Storms, is scheduled for release in December 2015. My books are on all major online retailers.

I grew up in the mountains of Colorado and went to Mesa State College in Grand Junction. When money for college ran low I enlisted in the United States Navy. I thought I would do four years and then use my veteran's benefits to go back to college.

My first assignment was with a U.S. Navy unit at the Royal Air Force base in Edzell, Scotland. Two years later while on leave in Israel I met Lorraine from Plymouth, Devon, England. We married the next year. Together we spent the remainder of my twenty year naval career traveling across the United States from Virginia to Hawaii and on to Guam, Japan and beyond.

Today, Lorraine and I live on a small farm in Western Washington State.

Website: http://www.kylepratt.me

Table of Contents

- Title Page
- Copyright Page
- Table of Contents
- Final Duty
- Also by the author
- About the author