Constitution: Book 1 of the Legacy Fleet Trilogy by Nick Webb

demurred.
    “Bullshit. You’ve been irresponsible. Now it’s metastasized and soon your lymph nodes will be fatter than your damn head.”
    Shit. He didn’t need this right now. First they take away the Old Bird from him, and now he gets his life taken away too? He shifted uncomfortably on the examination table, studying the scans Doc Wyatt had given him. The tumors were unmistakable: white, black, and dark red blobs interspersed all throughout his midsection, some larger, some smaller, but each deadly.
    “Look, I can give you Metastacin—that should stabilize them for a month or so. And Flaginox will keep the pain and tissue inflammation at bay....”
    Doctor Wyatt was fiddling with his handheld medical scanner, avoiding eye contact. They’d served nearly a decade together, and he counted him as one of his best friends on board—and Captain Granger didn’t make friends easily. Why make friends when they’ll inevitably disappoint you?
    “It’s ok, Doc. It’s my time.” He said the words, but they rang hollow in his own ears. “Look, I’ve got to do a walkdown of the ship one last time before we arrive at Lunar Base. Make sure our new guest hasn’t mothballed the whole place before she’s supposed to.” He stood up to leave.
    “Are you going to tell the crew?”
    Granger walked to the door. “Now why the hell would I do that, Doc?”
    “Are you at least going to tell your—” began Doctor Wyatt, but the doors sliding shut cut him off.
    Granger stalked the halls, aiming vaguely towards engineering, nodding at crew members as they passed. When he reached the only elevator that would take him down to engineering, the door didn’t even open—the mechanism merely groaned in protest as the gears ground unfruitfully against each other.
    Damn, she’s as sick as I am.
    Digging his fingertips into the joint between the sliding door sections, he grunted as he struggled to pull them apart. When a two-inch space appeared, the mechanism finally caught and the doors sprung open.
    “Engineering,” he grumbled to the empty air inside the lift.
    A soft beep indicated the computer’s acknowledgement, and the lift moved. Momentarily, the speaker announced, with a fair amount of distortion, “Engineering.” Hell, even the speakers were going out. Maybe it really was time to just pull the plug on the whole ship.
    “Sir, glad you’re here,” began a frazzled Commander Scott before he could even get a word in, “I tried contacting you before about this but couldn’t find you. She’s gone too far this time, Cap’n.”
    Somehow, he knew exactly which she his chief engineer was referring to.
    “What is it this time, Rayna?”
    She led him to one of the vast engine bays that housed one of the six main drive units, and pointed. “Look. I go to bed last night with engine four not disassembled, and when I wake up this morning, it is disassembled. Anything wrong with that picture, Cap’n?”
    Granger ground his teeth together. The entire unit was taken apart, and the lead ballast was clearly gone. “Where’s the ballast?”
    “Where do you think, sir?”
    Granger spun around and strode back toward the lift. “Prepare a launch tube, Commander.”
    “Sir?”
    “A launch tube. We’re going to need it to aid the disembarking of our guest.”
    He didn’t stop to look, but he could almost feel the broad smile cross Rayna’s face. Hell, he’d love to press the launch button himself if it meant he could be rid of Shelby Proctor a few days early.

Chapter Sixteen

    Veracruz Sector, Leon System
    IDF Intelligence Ship ISS Tirian

    Commander LaPlace peered at the screen, trying to see the ships firing down at the surface. The sensors were recording every last detail, but he wanted to visually verify the identity of the attackers. He knew, from years of military and intel training, what the Swarm ships should look like. At least the ones that attacked Earth seventy-five years ago. They were quite literally a swarm. A few