chapter 39
AMONG THE WRECKAGE
Lucca Brezhnaya’s military cruisers were custom built for her comfort and to enable her to remain at all times in communication with
her network of minions. She left the flying to others; her own time was too valuable for such mean labor.
“How much farther?” she asked her driver, red nails tapping upon a mahogany desk.
“Less than eight minutes, Chancellor.”
She scowled, but then saw a call coming through from the crash site of the main Martian ship.
“Yes?” she demanded.
“A small airborne vessel approached the wreckage and then fled,” said the caller. “Shall we pursue? The vessel is Hercules class.
Small and fast.”
Lucca hesitated. What was more valuable to her? The crew among the wreckage or possible collaborators?
“What is the status of your search for crew?” she asked.
“The debris is widely scattered,” came the response. “We anticipate several hours—”
“Stay with the wreckage,” Lucca said, cutting off the dull response. “Chancellor out.”
She placed another call to Ops at Pearl Harbor. “Status update? When will you reach the crash site?”
“Seventeen minutes, Madam Chancellor.”
“There’s nothing for you to do there,” said Lucca. “I want all forces re-routed in pursuit of a Hercules class vessel that attempted to
rendezvous with the downed vessel.”
“Heading?” asked the crisp voice on the other end.
“That’s your job to figure out,” barked Lucca. “Examine the data from the recovery team on site. I want that ship found immediately!”
“With all due respect, Chancellor, the Pacific is very … large.”
Lucca slammed her palm against her desk. “We’ve got satellites watching the Pacific. Use them. Re-aim them. Find me that ship!”
“Yes, Chancellor. At once.”
“Chancellor out.” She turned to her pilot. “How much longer now?”
“Four minutes, Ma’am.”
Lucca smiled.