Free Cradle of War (A Captain's Crucible Book 3) by Isaac Hooke

Because whenever I’m with Bridgette, all I can think about is how I want to blow Barrick and his Raakarr friends into the void for what they did to her. Her physical wounds will heal someday. But the mental wounds? I think she’s scarred for life.”
    “You misjudge her,” Jonathan said. “She’s not so fragile, Robert.”
    “She is,” Robert replied. “And after what happened to the baby, I don’t blame her. Hell, I’m nearly broken by it.”
    Jonathan chose his next words carefully. “Do we know if the baby will survive, yet?”
    The commander pressed his lips together tightly. “The medical officer tells me the baby’s chances have improved. We’re looking at eighty-twenty, instead of fifty-fifty.”
    “Well that’s good news,” Jonathan said.
    “Maybe,” Robert said. “They had to cut him out of her, and they’re feeding anti-rads directly into his umbilical. The medics say his growth will probably be stunted, at least in the short term. Long term, they have no idea what the effects of the radiation poisoning will be, nor the consequences of his treatment. If he survives that long.”
    Jonathan closed his eyes. The poor child was off to a hard start. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
    “Don’t be,” Robert said. “Because now you understand why it’s important that I come to work everyday.”
    But Jonathan didn’t, not really. He would have been a nervous wreck himself in such a situation. He was close to that state as it was: Bridgette was a good friend. He’d known her since assuming commanding of the Callaway all those years ago. He would have given his life for her, and in fact he almost had at one point. As for the baby, he was partially responsible for its fate, because he had convinced Bridgette to keep the child. Perhaps that had been a poor decision.
    I shouldn’t meddle in the personal lives of my crew. There are always consequences.
    He sighed, and turned his attention to the nav specialist. “Nav, set a course for the moon. Let’s go pick up the rest of the fleet.”
    “Aye sir,” the specialist responded.
    When the course was set and the task unit was on its way, Jonathan glanced at Robert. “Once we’ve rendezvoused with them, we’ll make for the Slipstream on the outskirts of the system.”
    “The farther Slipstream?” Robert said. “That’ll add days to our return trip. You were the one emphasizing the importance of speed. Why not take the closer? The Elder said they would update the Slipstream properties of both Slipstreams to point to 951, remember.”
    “I know, but I don’t completely trust them,” Jonathan said. “I’d rather go through the same wormhole the Raakarr did. Besides, if Valor doesn’t share his traversal technology, it’ll take us another six months to return anyway.”
    Robert spread his hands in a pacifying gesture. “You’re the captain.”
    “I am indeed.”

ten
     
    B ridgette resided in the ICU, where she recuperated with four pilots: Lieutenant Commander Jason Wolf, Lieutenant Frank Turow, Lieutenant Lin Akido, and Lieutenant Hop Grisham. She had memorized the full names and ranks of these men and the woman who had risked everything for her.
    Her belly still throbbed somewhat where the weavers had made their incision, though she supposed it was mostly because of the staples, as the majority of the wound had healed thanks to the accelerants the units had applied.
    She felt queasy most of the day. She wasn’t sure if that was from the radiation poisoning, the treatment, or both. All of her hair had fallen out, as had the hair of her companions. It was probably for the best, as her scalp felt extremely itchy.
    Her body was dangerously underweight. She wanted to eat naturally, but she had no appetite at all. Hence the intravenous feeding tubes.
    She wished she could see her baby, but Eugene was hooked up to an umbilical inside a tank in another room. Still, sometimes she thought she could sense him, almost as if he were lying beside