Free The Lost Starship by Vaughn Heppner Page A

and therefore was a second-class citizen. Her fellow cadets looked down on her. As compensation, she worked even harder and almost ended up as the class valedictorian.
    Had that won her an ensign position on a battle ship or maybe even a strike cruiser? No. They didn’t even send her to a destroyer. She found herself the navigator on a lousy escort, the smallest combat ship there was. Even there, the others had snubbed her…until the day the commander had an accident in the reactor room.
    She had been the right person to become escort commander, but the reviewing board hadn’t agreed with the obvious assessment. That had happened during the journey into the Beyond. Her first piece of good fortune struck then. Admiral von Gunther had reviewed the board’s finding. He had personally vetoed their recommendation and instead placed her in charge of the escort.
    In her mind after that, von Gunther could do no wrong. It was the critical reason she had obeyed his last order. She would have done anything for him. During her three weeks on top, she had commanded a Star Watch escort. Then, the battle with the New Men took place. Now, all her hard work had evaporated into nothing. The others with their privilege had closed ranks against her, calling her devotion to the admiral, who had always treated her fairly, cowardice in face of the enemy.
    That plain made her angry. Yeah, she had gladly volunteered for the Lord High Admiral’s insane plan. The old man had some of the same grit as von Gunther. He had listened to her story and thanked her for what she’d done. The others yesterday in the conference room…she knew what those hostile stares had meant.
    As she stood beside the giant fountain in the huge Paris mall, Lieutenant Valerie Noonan’s wrist throbbed from the shock of a buzzer. Her shin hurt where this goon had kicked her with his iron boot heel. What a bastard.
    Now he acted tough , as if he could do something bad to her. Well, there had been gang members in Detroit who had tried to rape her before. Two of them would never walk right again.
    Th e thug with his rattling wrist chain reached into his jacket. Valerie had a good idea he meant to draw a knife. She’d seen her dad make a similar grab. With those eyes, she knew this thug liked to cut people.
    Knives were bad mojo. Vid shows often had a hero kicking a knife out of a cutter’s hand. She knew it didn’t quite work like that in real life. Her dad had taught her how to use a knife, and she had wielded one on those wannabe rapists back in the day.
    Therefore, Valerie didn’t wait for Mr. Tough Guy to pull out his blade. Despite her throbbing shin, she stepped forward and rotated her waist fast. At the same time, she smoothly swung an arm, closing her fingers into a fist. She shot a right cross against his nose. If she could break it and make his eyes water, he wasn’t going to be able to see so well.
    It all happened to script. She heard bones crunch. His head rocked back and tears of pain automatically began to well. Valerie kept stepping forward. The man’s hands went to his nose. That was a bad mistake. She drove a knee against his groin.
    He grunted, ooffing his bad breath into her face. Valerie reached up, put her hands on his shoulder, and shoved. Mr. Black Jacket toppled, striking the back of his skull against the tiles as he hit the floor.
    People had stopped to watch. A few of the women began clapping.
    Valerie grinned at them. Then she realized that she was supposed to keep a low profile. What was the best way to deal with this now? Okay. She had an idea. She bowed at the waist, first in one direction and then in another.
    A few people laughed.
    Afterward, Valerie turned around and began walking away. Some of her burning resentment had departed. Security would be here any moment to take care of the man. She didn’t want to answer any questions. It was time to fade into the crowds. She had done that in Detroit too.
    “Impressive,” another man said