Chapter 10 - The Woman Who Refused to Stay DownThe first thing I heard was Jackson shouting my name.
The second was the scream of a warning alarm.
Smoke poured through the equipment compartment as emergency lights flickered above the doorway. Somewhere inside, a ventilation fan began spinning at an irregular speed.
Reeves pushed past me toward the entrance.
I followed.
The damaged electrical panel sparked once, showering the floor with tiny flashes of light. The second man had disappeared.
Voss was gone too.
Jackson was trapped behind a fallen maintenance cart, coughing as smoke thickened around him.
"Mom!"
"I'm here."
I moved toward him.
The cart was heavy, but not impossible to shift. I braced my shoulder against its side and pushed. My prosthetic foot slid against the deck.
Pain flashed through my residual limb.
I pushed again.
The cart moved several inches.
Jackson pulled himself free.
Reeves grabbed his arm and guided him toward the doorway.
"Keep moving!"
I followed, but my prosthetic caught beneath a twisted metal bracket. My balance shifted. I hit the deck hard, striking my elbow against the floor.
For a second, I could not breathe.
The sound of the alarms seemed to recede.
And suddenly I was back in Iraq.
Dust in my mouth.
Heat against my skin.
Eleven men trapped behind concrete.
My leg gone.
Reeves shouting that I had to leave.
I remembered gripping his sleeve and telling him to go back for the last soldier.
Then the memory fractured.
I was on the Vanguard again, surrounded by smoke.
Jackson appeared beside me.
"Mom, come on."
"I'm fine."
"No, you're not."
He crouched and reached for my arm.
I wanted to protest. Wanted to stand without help because I had spent years refusing to let people confuse disability with helplessness.
Then I saw the terror in his eyes.
For once, I stopped pretending that accepting help was the same as surrendering.
I let him pull me upright.
Together, we reached the corridor.
A corpsman checked my head while Jackson coughed into a towel. Reeves reported the electrical incident to emergency control.
The ship's safety team managed to isolate the damaged circuit before the fire spread.
But the consequences were serious.
Several auxiliary systems had failed, and one compartment required immediate evacuation.
No one had died.
Yet.
I sat on a bench while a corpsman examined my elbow.
Jackson stood in front of me, trembling with anger.
"That's it," he said. "I'm done pretending this is just your job."
"Jackson—"
"No. Somebody tried to kill me."
His voice cracked.
"And you were almost killed trying to reach me."
I looked at him.
"You're right."
He seemed surprised by the answer.
I continued.
"I should have told you more. I should have explained the danger before bringing you aboard. I was trying to protect you, but I made decisions without giving you a choice."
Jackson looked away.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then he sat beside me.
"When I was twelve, you went to the hospital for another surgery. Dad told me not to worry because you always came home."
He rubbed his hands together.
"I remember sitting by the window for hours because I wanted to see your car pull into the driveway."
I felt my throat tighten.
"I wanted you to have a childhood where you didn't have to be afraid every time the phone rang."
"Then stop making me feel like I'm still twelve."
I looked at my son.
He was right.
I had spent years treating his fear as something I could manage by withholding information. Instead, I had taught him that the people he loved might disappear behind closed doors without explanation.
"I'm sorry," I said.
He nodded slowly.
It was not forgiveness, exactly.
But it was a beginning.
Before we could say anything else, Reeves approached.
"Admiral, we recovered the tablet Voss dropped while escaping."
"What does it contain?"
"A series of access codes, several encrypted messages, and a scheduled system event."
"What kind of event?"
Reeves hesitated.
"At 1800 hours, the ship's navigation system is scheduled to enter a maintenance calibration mode."
"Who authorized it?"
"Captain Miller's account."
I checked my watch.
It was 1537.
Less than three hours remained.
"Can the calibration affect navigation?"
"According to engineering, the sequence should only verify system accuracy."
"Should?"
Reeves looked uncomfortable.
"The modified sequence includes an external data input. The technicians can't explain why."
I stood.
"What happens if we cancel it?"
"They need authorization from the command system."
"And if we can't access the command system?"
Reeves didn't answer.
We both understood the problem.
Someone had altered the ship's systems and used the captain's credentials to authorize a scheduled event that could compromise navigation.
Miller had either permitted it or lost control of his own command.
I looked toward the operations center.
"Where is the captain now?"
"His office."
"Take me to him."
Reeves lowered his voice.
"Ma'am, there's one more thing."
"What?"
"The system event wasn't scheduled by Miller alone."
He handed me the tablet.
Two authorization signatures appeared on the screen.
One belonged to Captain Miller.
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The other belonged to the highest-ranking officer currently aboard the Vanguard.
Vice Admiral Adrian Cole.
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