La Familia
1.
Starbase 6 was a welcome sight as it loomed into view. The Defiant slowed from the tremendous speeds of exiting the Jump. As it approached the huge Union space station, Lieutenant Kyle Banks handled the helm controls of the ship with consummate skill.
Feels good to come back here, Captain Jessica King thought to herself. Like coming home.
After more than a year away on a mission of exploration, they had returned to Station 6 for some much needed supplies and minor repairs. The Defiant had also been promised a few upgrades, and Jessica fully intended on making sure she got them.
The old girl could use them, she thought. And the much needed rest . . .
"Starbase control has made contact, Captain," Ensign Olivia Rayne reported from the comm. station, her hand to her earpiece.
King nodded. "Patch me through."
She waited a few seconds for the connection to be made. "Captain Jessica King, Union Starship Defiant."
"Please state your prefix number," an artificial voice said.
"T.U. zero-one-one-three-eight," Jessica said.
There was a brief delay, then the voice announced that they were cleared to dock. "Docking bay three. Please do not exceed standard thruster speed."
"Close channel," King said.
Just like old times . . .
She looked ahead at the large circular space station. Tall centrifuge at the centre, spokes extending out at the middle to form a wide outer ring. Along the ring were enough docking bays to accommodate up to twenty vessels, with many of the bays currently occupied.
Lieutenant Banks brought the Defiant – an old but well-kept Archon class battleship – to a relative crawl and lined up the port side with the slowly rotating docking ring. At one time, Archon class vessels had been the backbone of the fleet. Now they were little more than relics. While the Draxx war raged, they still had a purpose. But now, in this newfound era of interstellar peace, the Archons were slowly being taken out of service.
Decommissioned. Scrapped. Thankfully, there were no such plans for the Defiant.
Yet.
The thought of her being dismantled, ending up as salvage, made Jessica shudder.
"Aligning to dock," Banks reported, his voice taut with effort as he concentrated on the task at hand. Starbases were not designed to accommodate simple and easy docking manoeuvres.
"Keep her steady, Lieutenant. You know the drill."
"Aye," Banks said. His hands flitted over the controls, the Defiant edging to the left to butt up against the station. "I could do this with my eyes closed."
Jessica smiled. "Well, please refrain from doing so on this occasion, Banks. I'd like my ship kept in one piece for the time being. It'd be a shame to crash just before we park."
"Yes Ma'am," he said with a chuckle.
"Less than two metres clearance," Commander Chang reported from the science and tactical station to the Captain's right. The Defiant nestled up to the dock with a slight bump a moment later.
"Good job Mister Banks. Commander Chang, activate all moorings and equalize atmospheres," King ordered. She got up from the captain's chair. The Defiant was now under the momentum of the station itself, like a very heavy passenger on a merry-go-round. "Power down all non-essential systems. Commander, observe standard protocol."
"Yes Captain," Commander Greene said as he relayed her orders to the rest of the ship. Every department would shut down those systems that weren't needed while the Defiant underwent any repairs and refurbishments that had been scheduled for her.
"When the bridge is cleared, come and find me," Jessica told him.
The Commander nodded. Jessica ran her eyes over her team – Kyle Banks at the helm, Olivia Rayne at the comm. station, Lisa Chang at the science and tactical station, and Del Greene by her side as her second in command – and all she could feel was pride at having the fortune of serving with such a fine group of men and women.
"I'll be in my quarters," Jessica said as she left the bridge. "Well done everyone."
2.
"We can't have everyone on shore leave at the same time, Del," Jessica said as she made them both coffee. She handed Greene his cup and sat opposite him. "The repair team will still need crew to assist . . ."
"I can work that on a rota, Jess," Greene assured her, both of them comfortable addressing one another using their first names when in private. Captain King had always encouraged the crew of the Defiant to relax in her presence. She was there to run a ship, not play dictator.
"I'll make sure it's done fairly," he said. "And that it rotates so everyone gets their share."
She sipped her coffee. "I don't know. I worry about them letting their hair down a little too much. You know?"
"Yeah there is that," Commander Greene admitted. Only two months ago they had made a brief stop at Station 37 on the way back home, a short layover of twenty-four hours that had seen her crew engage in half a dozen brawls with another Union ship. It had not only been embarrassing for her, but difficult to find the correct punishment for those involved. "But we dealt with them, didn't we? Three days scrubbing the deck plating with your own toothbrush will knock the fight out of anyone. They've earned it, regardless. It's been a long tour of duty for us all, Jess. Especially you. I don't think Station 37 counted as proper downtime."
She frowned. "What d'you mean, 'especially you'? I'm okay."
"You can't hide stuff from me," he told her with a smile. "I've been around you too long. You're tired, stressed. I can see it. If there's anyone who should be getting some shore leave, it's the Defiant's Captain."
"We've had some adventures, sure, and got into a scrape or two," she said. "But I wouldn't say it's been any more stressful than normal. In fact it's been a good year, give or take a few things."
She thought back over that past year of exploration. They'd seen some unbelievable sights. The Defiant's memory banks were literally heaving with precious data. There had been danger, too, but that went hand-in-hand with anything involving a starship . . . particularly one travelling on its own, charting unexplored territory.
"Then what is it, eh?" Greene asked her. "You can tell me."
Jessica sighed. "Listen, you remember I told you about that video," she said.
"Yeah . . ." Greene said, uncertain. "The one from . . . you know, yourself?"
She nodded.
"Go on," he said.
A year before, prior to casting off on their new mission, Jessica had found a video waiting for her on her personal console. When she played it, it appeared to be from herself. The other version of her proceeded to detail an entire series of events, some of which were beyond her capability to understand. Nor did she need to. They'd apparently happened in another galaxy – and another time.
The other version of herself perished in an incident involving a hijacked Union starship and a Draxx battleship just beforehand. The Draxx vessel, the Inflictor, had arrived at Starbase 6. At the same time the base's alarms were triggered, a small ship called the Saratoga had been stolen. Whoever stole it proceeded to take the Inflictor on in head-to-head combat. Jessica took the Defiant out to give them a hand – whoever had the Saratoga obviously intended on defending Starbase 6 from the Draxx. However, after listening to the video left on her console, it was made perfectly clear who had taken the Saratoga and saved all their lives . . . herself. Alt-Jessica had used the Saratoga's Jump Drive to rip the Inflictor apart, ending the short engagement. The realisation that it was herself who'd saved the day . . . well, it was all enough to make anyone's head spin.
Among the countless other details, her doppelganger told Jessica she was a victim of Multiple Sclerosis and advised seeking treatment as soon as she was able.
It turned out she was right.
"My condition has been making it difficult for me lately," Jessica told Commander Greene. Intermittent difficulty walking, numbness in her feet, and sharp back pain had plagued her since receiving the diagnosis. "Despite all Doctor Clayton's attempts at treating it, nothing's really been much help. Except . . ."
Greene frowned. "Except what?"
"Clayton's found an experimental drug that may force it to subside for good," she said. "He's having it brought to the station. It should get here any time."
"Well, that's great news," the Commander said. He drank some of his coffee. "Anything's worth a try, right?"
"Yeah." Jessica looked away. She couldn't help the gathering moisture in her eyes, or the way she gripped her coffee cup as she stared off at the stars beyond her viewport.
"Jess . . ."
"I've feared losing all this," she whispered. "Losing this ship. Because my legs don't work. Or the soles of my feet are growing numb. I've wondered how far I'd be willing to go to not have that happen. As it is, Clayton tells me this is more or less untested. There's no guarantee."
"The doc knows what he's doing," Greene said. "And you should trust him."
"You're right," Jessica said. "It's just, you like to think you're invincible. Especially in front of your crew. You want to appear strong and able-bodied."
"You do already," Greene assured her. "And you will. It'll all work out in the end."
"In some ways I wish that my other self hadn't left me the video, hadn't bothered to tell me anything. It's been a blessing and a curse."
This happened to be a semi-truth. While the video from her other self had served to plague some of her choices since watching it, the content of the video message itself had been useful information. For instance, warning her against Lieutenant Swogger. Her other self had detailed how the man was suffering some sort of breakdown. Jessica had him removed from the Defiant at the earliest opportunity and saved herself a lot of potential grief.
Another was Hal Dolarhyde, a new member of the crew who just so happened to be the legendary star pilot – and hero of the Union, back in the day – Gerard "Hawk" Nowlan. While Jessica's other self had died, Hawk had survived to render his services to the Union top brass. They'd granted his request to be assigned incognito to the Defiant, provided he took a different name and kept his real identity a secret. Only Jessica and Commander Greene knew who he was.
"I still can't believe we have Hawk Nowlan aboard," Greene said. He drained the last of his coffee and set the cup on the table in front of him. "I mean, I used to have that guy's posters up on my wall as a kid."
"I know what you mean," Jessica said, lightening somewhat. "It was a shock to me, too. But you know the orders. It has to remain top secret."
"How do you even function, knowing all of that went on? And I mean it's not like it's an elaborate hoax. We saw the ship they stole get destroyed along with the Inflictor. And we have Hawk, of course. Living proof," Greene said. "I think it'd drive me nuts."
"It did in the beginning. You know, when we first set out on our new mission. But Grimshaw advised not to think about it too much. Just consider myself lucky to have some forewarning of things and move on."
"Swogger . . ." the Commander said. "That was handy, knowing one of our own was about to go nuts."
"Not nuts, Del," she corrected him.
Greene laughed. "Okay, okay. Wrong word. But you know what I mean. A little unhinged."
"Unhinged. Yeah. Something like that. All I know is that it saved us from a situation aboard ship. And Lieutenant Dunham's proven to be a good replacement for him down in munitions," Jessica said.
"Yeah," the Commander agreed. He checked the time. "When's your meeting with the Admiral?"
"Another hour or so. Hence the coffee. I'll have a quick shower and shoot on over there. I'm sure he'll want a full debrief on everything we've catalogued this past year. There's a lot of ground to cover."
That should have been Greene's cue to leave, but he remained seated.
"Jess . . ."
"What is it?"
His eyes brimmed with sadness. "You know what day today is, don't you?"
She shook her head, then realisation dawned. "Yes. I'm afraid I do."
"A year today. Doesn't seem possible, does it?"
"No," she whispered and looked down at the floor.
The Commander now recognised the need to give her some privacy and got up to leave. He walked to the door.
"Del?"
He turned around. "Yeah?"
She smiled. "Thanks. For, well, you know . . ."
"Sure. I know," he said and left.
Jessica dealt with the coffee things and ran for the shower. Soon she was enveloped by the steaming hot water. It felt good. She managed to wash most of her troubles down the drain.
More or less.
3.
The last time they'd docked at Station 6, the Defiant had borne the scars of a battle – the very same battle in which Captain Singh had perished and Jessica had wound up assuming command. And though the Defiant was not battered and bruised this time around, she was in need of a general overhaul in places. Her stores were almost depleted, too, despite their reasonable use of the replication technology aboard. Though perfectly edible, the replicated food did have two things against it.
One, it was created by recycling human waste, a fact that a lot of people couldn't get past. And two, no matter what they did with it, the replicated food always seemed to come out tasteless, bland.
The machines could reproduce a programmed version of a steak from the matter fed into them, but they could not recreate the taste and texture of one. She supposed that on something like a prison barge, such a thing would not be a concern. But on a year-long mission into unexplored territory, being able to feed her people a good meal was important to her.
And there was only so much the Chef could do with the pallid vegetables grown in the hydroponics chambers . . .
Jessica walked through the decontamination jets of the airlock and out to the station side. She spotted groups of Defiant crew on their way toward the promenade, and in a way she envied them. What she wouldn't have given for a drink in Mickey's right now. But the Admiral was expecting her. She found a half-empty buggy and sat at the front.
The buggy moved, racing along a specially laid track that allowed fast and convenient travel of goods and personnel around the station.
King glanced behind her at the Defiant through the view ports. Unlike last time, her ship looked in good shape.
You've served us well, she thought with pride. Something lifted within her chest at the sight of her ship, of the one place they all called home. It was more than simple pride, more like love.
She turned back around, a smile on her face. The buggy sped along the track and Jessica arrived at the centrifuge in no time at all.
4.
Admiral Grimshaw perched himself on the edge of his desk, arms folded.
"We're just now beginning to compile the masses of data transferred from the Defiant's memory banks," she said. "It's going to take some time to make sense of it all. The stellar cartographers will have a field day going through it all."
"Well . . ." Jessica said, about to begin recounting their mission.
Grimshaw held up a hand. "If you think you're here for a debrief, I'm afraid you're wrong, Captain."
"Oh," she said, taken aback. "I just assumed . . ."
"No. We will go through your log entries, star charts, and data in due course. They'll be a great asset, not only to the Union, but the many races and worlds that will make use of them. For now it can wait. I'm afraid you're here for another purpose."
He got up, walked around the desk and sat in his chair.
"Lights."
At the simple spoken command the lights dimmed. Admiral Grimshaw activated a holo-projector on his desk. It showed a star system.
"What's that?" King asked.
"It was, at one time, the Namar system. You've heard of them?"
She shook her head.
"It doesn't matter. They've been gone for a thousand years or more. Lost."
"Lost?" Jessica asked. "I don't follow."
As Grimshaw spoke, the display changed to show the different planets of the Namar system. It zoomed in on one in particular, showing brutal landscapes of ruined cities and poisoned seas.
"The Namar were once a powerful civilisation. They'd begun to invade and conquer surrounding star systems when something happened. A great tragedy struck their race and, within a century or two, they destroyed themselves. All trace of them, apart from what you see here . . . completely lost," Grimshaw said. "We have little to nothing regarding their culture."
"Wow. So, what does this have to do with me?"
The Admiral smiled. "Always to the point, Captain. That's why I like you."
Jessica blushed.
At Grimshaw's command, the holodisplay zoomed back out and shifted to show a planet a little farther out, surrounded by several planetoids. It reminded her of a planet in the Sol system: Jupiter. And the smaller planets in orbit around it were very much like Jupiter's own Europa and Ganymede.
"Here," Grimshaw said.
The view crept closer and closer to one of the small planets to show something circling it.
Jessica sat forward. "What is it?"
"Exactly sixty kilometres long, twenty kilometres wide, and in a pitch-perfect orbit," the Admiral explained. "A featureless black cylinder, the likes of which we have never seen before."
"Is that my mission?"
He nodded.
"How did you find it?"
"A survey probe passed by that way. Command had it redirected to do a sweep of the Namar system. The probe apparently carried some new kind of visual sensor. That's what allowed for these immersive holo-maps. It was only when they went through its footage that they saw it, otherwise it might have gone unnoticed forever."
"So there's nothing of real interest or value there otherwise," Jessica said. "Just a bunch of wasted planets."
Grimshaw nodded in the direction of the giant cylinder circling the planetoid.
"And that," he said. "Your new assignment will be to investigate it, find out what it is, how it got there, and why."
"You don't have any ideas?" she asked him.
The Admiral shook his head. "None. We literally know nothing about it. And seeing as you have a window before your next exploratory mission, I thought it prudent to redirect the Defiant and have you investigate. Call it a little diversion."
Jessica laughed. "Yes sir."
Grimshaw smiled. But when he looked at the display again, his smile faded. "This thing is an Enigma. That's what we've dubbed it. Be careful, Captain. Proceed with caution. There's an old saying, 'Know The Ledge.'"
"Strange saying. What does it mean?" King asked with a frown.
The Admiral fixed her with a serious expression. "An old one from Earth. It means know what's going on around you, and most important . . . watch your back . . ."
5.
The Admiral poured them each a glass of water. He handed Jessica hers.
"Thanks."
"How's your . . . uh . . . condition by the way?" he asked her.
"Fine for the moment," Jessica said. "Doctor Clayton is about to try something new that he thinks will be successful. I'm not worried."
Grimshaw's expression remained unchanged. "You must be concerned. There are no masks in this office, Captain. Remember that. And I've been around longer than anyone knows. I see a lot."
She looked down, unable to keep his gaze. "Yes sir."
"Listen, you know I think a lot of you. Just as much as I thought of Andrew, rest his soul. If there's anything I can do, just tell me. Anything. I'll do my very best," Grimshaw said. "I already knew about the medication Clayton's dabbling in. It was I who approved the payment."
Jessica looked up. "Thanks, I appreciate it. Don't worry about my health. Between Doctor Clayton and me, we've got it covered. It doesn't affect my work."
The Admiral nodded once and sipped his water. "Good."
"What's the situation with the Draxx? I heard they gave a total surrender a few days ago? Is that true, or is just the newscasts chattering?" she asked him, eager to move off the subject of her MS.
"It's all true. For once, the media are right. The Draxx have fully surrendered to us. It's taken nearly a year to get a complete withdrawal of their forces from Union space. We're in the process right now of securing their leadership and negotiating the dismantlement of their military. It's going to be a long process, but the key here is that it's over," he said. "Sounds so strange to hear myself say that. 'The war is over.' Doesn't seem quite possible, but there it is."
"It would've made Dad happy."
Grimshaw smiled. "Yes it would. There are a great many Captains and Admirals who would've happily seen the conflict go on forever. But not me. And not Andrew. We always wanted it to end."
She raised her glass. "Shall we toast, then? How about to peace?"
"Peace." The Admiral chinked his glass against hers and downed the water. "God I wish that were whiskey . . . Oh, I nearly forgot. I have taken the liberty of assigning you our resident expert on this kind of phenomena. Doctor Gentry has had a hand in several of these kinds of situations before. He's an historian at heart, and a bit of a nut if you ask me, but I think he'll be a great asset to have on the mission. If there's anyone who can offer an informed opinion on something like the Enigma, it's Doctor Gentry."
"Okay," Jessica said. "I'll have him put up in one of the ambassadorial suites."
Grimshaw laughed.
"What's so funny?" she asked him.
"Nothing. You'll see when you meet him. Trust me, that's when you'll understand why I'm laughing."
The Admiral showed her to the door. "I'll check in with you in a day or so, let you get stuck in to fixing up the Defiant," he said.
She saluted and he returned the gesture.
"And about Doctor Gentry . . ." Jessica started to ask, unable to contain her curiosity.
Grimshaw just chuckled. "Goodbye, Jessica."
6.
She wanted to make the most of the journey back to the Defiant, so she went on foot. Although it would take a long time to get back to her ship, it felt good to have a little breathing room. Some space in which to think about things.
The Admiral had told her he would authorise any and all repairs and upgrades she wanted done, as long as the Defiant was ready to go in a week's time. Whatever that was out there, Grimshaw wanted the Defiant there to claim it first. Not that there was any chance of another species stumbling upon it in the time it would take them to get the Defiant shipshape. But you never really knew.
They'd discovered it by chance and there was nothing to say someone else wouldn't do the same.
The re-supply of ship's stores would take only a matter of days. The replacement of certain systems, and the renovation of others, a little longer than that. But she was confident the Defiant would be ready to go on schedule.
However, that wasn't what bothered her.
I lied to Del when I said I'd let it go, she thought. It bothers me. It scares me that I've lived another life. That I've died.
She remembered starting the video . . .
"Jess, I know you must be surprised to see me. Believe me, if this were as strange as it was ever going to get, you'd be lucky. I have a lot to tell you, and I'll be brief as possible. You have an entire galaxy to explore and I don't want to stop you – us – from living that dream. A dream of a simpler time, an age of peace. When we can revert to being explorers again. See what's out there . . ."
The woman on the screen took a deep breath.
"Jessica, there's only one way to tell you all of this. Some of it will be hard to hear; some of it will confuse you. But you must hear it. So let me start at the beginning . . ."
And how many times had she watched it? How many times had she listened intently to the words of her doppelganger, digesting every factoid of information?
Too many to count. So many, in fact, that she'd had the main file stored in the ship's memory banks and then deleted it from her personal computer. Eventually, she came to the conclusion that nobody should know too much about their own future. And in a way, it was like listening to her destiny getting spelled out for her. While that particular future would never happen, knowing about it all would still inform the choices she made. Case in point, pre-empting Swogger's breakdown.
"How did you know?" the doctors had asked her.
She'd simply smiled and told them she was attuned to the feelings of her crew.
"I wish all Captains were that way," one of them had mumbled as they carted Swogger off.
There had been some genuine good from her other self's message . . . and that was the nature of her heritage. Initially, the revelation that Andrew Singh had actually been her biological Father. And then the MS she'd inherited from him. Unlike her other self, however, Jessica had a chance at treating it.
The walk back to the Defiant was a long and difficult one for her, more so because of her condition. Her back hurt, her feet grew numb as ice blocks and yet she pushed on, determined to do it herself. It felt good to simply walk, unhindered by distractions from the crew, from the many problems that arose minute to minute, the plethora of issues that required her personal attention.
Commander Greene had reminded her of the fact it was a full year since Singh had died. Though she'd forgotten it was so soon, Singh had never once left her thoughts. And now, as she walked the extensive walkways of Station 6, she was reminded of the day his body was shot out into space.
Then the Draxx had arrived – and immediately after that, she'd commanded the Defiant in an effort to stop it from destroying them all. Her grief at Singh's memorial service had been forgotten then, and indeed in the aftermath of those events.
But not now.
Right now, she felt it all, raw as it had been back then.
I'll shake it off, she thought. Jessica shook her head and a thin smile appeared on her lips. No I won't, and that's the point.
Captain King walked through the decontamination jets of the Defiant's airlock and felt relief at finally being on familiar decking. She wasn't much in the looks department, and she happened to be pretty old, but the Defiant was home.
And after all, home is where family is.
7.
"So, waddaya think of the joint?" Dollar asked her.
Selena glanced around. "It's nice. But not as nice as the company."
They sat in a little place called The Chili Leaf, nestled between a tattoo parlour and a multi-purpose store on the station's promenade.
She reached across the table, took hold of his hand, and squeezed. Dollar couldn't help but smile. It had taken a while, but thankfully, the bond he'd had with Selena Kyle in the previous timeline was the same here. He'd managed to rekindle his relationship with her, though it pained him not to be able to tell her the real story. The most he'd been able to say was "I used to work for Covert Ops, which is why I can't tell you about my previous duty."
That had been enough for her. He suspected she'd tried to look him up, and knew that all she'd get was a warning:
CLASSIFIED DATA
ACCESS TO PERSONNEL FILE DENIED
She admitted as much after trying to peek into his past.
"Thought ya would," he'd said.
"Well, I had to try, didn't I?"
Now, here they were, a full six months into their relationship. And it was as strong as before, if not stronger.
"Six months . . ." Selena said.
"I know," Dollar said. "Amazin' ain't it? Who'da thought a rogue like me would end up with a little beauty like yerself?"
She let go of his hand. "Oh, shush."
"Nah, I'm serious," he said.
The waiter set their drinks down on the table. A moment later he returned with their starters, then left them in peace.
"I'm very lucky to have you," Dollar told her. "And you know what?"
She shook her head. "No, go on, tell me."
Dollar grinned in an all-too-familiar, lopsided way that managed to melt her heart, without fail, every single time. "Yer lucky to have me."
Before she could fire back with a suitable retort the Texan had stuffed a forkful of salad into his mouth and proceeded to chew, his mouth slapping back and forth in a comedic manner.
And then, all she could do was laugh at him.
8.
"I don't know how we all got off the ship at once," Lisa Chang said as Kyle Banks got another round in. Crew from the Defiant had flooded into Mickey's, and the atmosphere was familiar and friendly. There was a good vibe in there, though the takeover probably hadn't gone down so well with the station regulars looking for a quiet drink that evening.
"Don't be such a misog," Banks said and shoved another shot at the Lieutenant. "Here, drink up."
Chang rolled her eyes, but downed the shot without hesitation. The liquor burned her throat and made her gasp. She slammed the shot glass down on the counter, much to Banks's surprise.
"Feisty," he said with a smirk and ordered another round.
"Hey," a familiar voice said from behind. Chang turned around to find Olivia Rayne there at the bar.
"Oh, hey you," Chang said and pulled her in for a quick kiss. "Did you just get here?"
Olivia nodded. "Just got let out, you mean," she said. "Released for good behaviour."
The music playing over the speakers in Mickey's changed to a slow, thumping synthpop. The bass resonated so deep it made the back of Chang's throat vibrate.
"Drink?" Banks asked her, his voice raised over the din.
"Ooh, yes please," Olivia said.
Chang shook her head. "Don't let him corrupt you."
Rayne ducked in for another kiss, and as the two parted Rayne licked her top lip. "By the taste of it, you've already been corrupted."
Lisa chuckled.
Banks handed them both shots, and the three of them downed the drinks together, gasping at the end.
Olivia held her throat. "What the hell was that?"
"Ouch!" Lieutenant Banks exclaimed. He signalled the bartender. "Three more and keep 'em coming!"
*
Dr. Clayton waited as the passengers filed onto the station from the recently docked transport. He checked his watch – an old fashioned timepiece his Father had given him when he was a boy – and noted that the merchant was late.
Then he saw him. Trundling along on a set of slippery tentacles, the Bejugit glanced around before it noticed him standing there. Clayton had had dealings with the same man (if he could be called a man) several times over the years and he knew him to be trustworthy. Before it had only been the simple matter of getting hold of restricted brandy – not exactly hardcore illegal by any means. The good Doctor happened to be partial to a nip of Veluzevaran brandy from time to time, and the only way to get hold of some was to have it shipped – by hand – from one end of the galaxy to the other. However, it was worth it.
Another time the Bejugit, who operated by the name of Landell, had transported a crate of very rare medical books from the early colonial period. There was much to be learned from those first settlers of the outer rim systems.
Landell didn't come cheap. But this time the Union were footing the bill, much to Clayton's surprise. Grimshaw himself had signed off on it.
"Landell my friend," Clayton said in greeting.
The Bejugit shook his hand. "Doctor. A pleasure seeing you again."
"Is this mine?" Clayton asked, looking down at the metal case in the alien's other hand.
Landell smiled, showing his small, sharp teeth. "Indeed."
"Do you have time for a drink?" Clayton asked him.
"I'm afraid not," Landell said. "I have an item to collect from a client aboard this station, and then I must catch the next departure."
He handed Clayton the case. "Thanks," the Doctor said. He popped it open quickly to check that it did contain what it was meant to.
People filed past them, on their way to and fro all areas of the station.
"All there. As you asked. Very peculiar. You couldn't have a Union ship bring that here?"
Clayton shook his head. "No. What with the upheaval following the war, they've put a cap on that sort of thing. I had to get a private courier to do the job. I'm afraid you're the only man I'd even consider."
Landell laughed. "And you're more than welcome. I appreciate your loyalty!"
"Oh, that reminds me," Clayton said. He handed the Bejugit a data tablet. "Just authorise that, and it'll go straight to your account. I made sure they added ten per cent on top for the inconvenience. It's not like they can't afford it."
Landell reviewed the payment information on the table, smiled his appreciation and pressed one of his fingers to the screen. A second later, the credits transferred to his own account, safe and secure. "Thank you, Doctor."
"You're welcome. Well, I won't keep you," Clayton said. He looked over at the timetable. "I see from the board over there your next flight out is in one hour."
"Yes. Time waits for no Bejugit," Landell said. He shook the Doctor's hand once again. "You have my card, my friend. Whatever you want, don't hesitate to ask."
"As always," Clayton said.
He watched the Bejugit slither off, then glanced about. The promenade was a five minute walk away. He could hear the noise. Smell the food. There was no time for that . . . but perhaps just one drink?
Why not? he thought. It's been a long goddamn trip for me, too.
He headed in the direction of the promenade, carrying with him the case that may very well contain the cure to his Captain's regrettable affliction.
*
Dr. Clayton shouldered his way through the crowd – the majority of the merry men and women dominating Mickey's were faces he recognised from the Defiant – and got to the bar in one piece.
"Whaddaya have?" the bartender asked him.
"Jack. Double. Straight up."
"Gotchya."
Clayton ran his eyes over his surroundings as his drink was prepared. He turned back as the bartended set the glass in front of him.
"Thanks," he said and lifted the glass to his lips. He'd tried many things, from all over the place, but sometimes that craving for good old Jack Daniel's overcame everything else. It wasn't anything special, but it did the job.
That kid Dollar sounds like he's from some place like Tennessee, Clayton thought idly. I'll bet he grew up on the stuff. Fed it through a teat.
A hand fell on his shoulder and he half-turned to see who it was.
"Doc!" Banks said.
Inwardly he groaned. "Hey there."
"What're you doing here, Doc?"
Clayton lifted the glass. "What d'you think?"
Banks broke into a loud, grating laugh. The Doctor decided to hurry his drink and get out as soon as possible.
I have to put up with these idiots and their antics on the ship, he thought. I'm not doing it here. Goddamn kids . . .
"Lemme buy you a drink!" Banks yelled in his ear. Admittedly, the music was very loud.
"I'm fine, kiddo. You here by yourself?"
Clayton slung the rest of the Jack Daniel's down his throat and grimaced for a second from the resultant heat. A good heat, a welcome burn.
"No, everyone else is over there . . ." Banks said, turning around to scan Mickey's for whomever he was with.
Clayton took that as his cue to leave and swiftly waded back into the crowd. Seconds later he heard "Doc?" from where he'd been at the bar, but by then he was nearly at the door and well on his way.
He found it nigh impossible to enjoy himself in a place like Mickey's where the drinks were so cheap and flowed freely. A medical man through and through, he found himself forever on the verge of giving each and every one of them a lecture.
Still, I have a few bottles of good old Veluzevaran back in my quarters, he thought with satisfaction.
"Sounds like a plan to me," he mumbled to himself as he strode out of Mickey's and onto the promenade, aware of the irony of rushing out of a bar to drink in private.
*
"I swear the Doc was here earlier . . ." Banks said. Now he couldn't be so sure. He'd had a lot to drink.
Ken Dunham waved him off. "Nah, couldn't have been. The Doc wouldn't come in a flea pit like this."
Banks seemed sure. "Oh, I don't know. Or maybe just someone who looked like him . . ."
Dunham shook his head.
"To the Doc!" Billy Yamato said, lifting his beer. It was now his sixth, and he was well on his way past merriment to falling-over-his-own-feet drunk. Unlike other joints on other Starbases, Mickey's only served real alcohol. None of the synthetic stuff those other dives peddled. Starbase 37 had been the only other station the Defiant had so far visited that held real booze – perhaps because it was so far out from the rest of the Union.
Trouble was, when crews got a chance to let their hair down, they couldn't hold their drink. It soon got the better of them.
So to say the crew of the Defiant partying in Mickey's were wasted was an understatement.
They all raised their drinks in a toast. "The Doc!"
Why they would be drinking to Dr. Clayton was anyone's guess. Not that they needed a reason to drink.
The music thumped and thumped around them, the lights strobed from time to time in a way that made them feel unsteady. Chang, Rayne, Banks, Dunham and Yamato drank round after round.
"We deserve this," Chang said in Rayne's ear.
Olivia nodded. "Yeah."
"It's been tough."
"But good, no?"
Chang smiled. Drunk – more than tipsy drunk – she looked positively goofy with her big smile and sleepy eyes.
"Very good," Chang said and moved in for a kiss. Rayne swung her arms around Chang's neck, pressed her lips hard against Lisa's.
Chang's hands wandered to Olivia's waist as they made out right there, in front of the others, their mouths locked in a passionate snog.
The intermittent conversation between the three boys rapidly faded away as they watched the show.
"Are we . . . hallucinating?" Dunham asked, his eyes wide.
Banks couldn't look away. "Dunno. Am I seeing things?"
"Nope," Billy Yamato said. He swallowed. Unsurprisingly, his throat had gone suddenly dry. "We're not that drunk . . ."
The sudden flickering of the lights overhead cast explosions of white-blue light over the somewhat uninhibited women.
Banks stood up. "I'm going up to the bar. I need something stronger."
9.
Aboard the Defiant, while the others partied and enjoyed their short freedom from the confines of the ship, Jessica explained the details of their mission to Commander Greene.
"Strange," he said. "I mean, for them to pull us away from our next excursion to investigate this, it must be pretty important."
"From what I've had a chance to read – and I've only skimmed some of the file – the Namar were famous for their advances in the areas of starship construction, weaponry advancement, and biological enhancements. And if this thing is Namar tech . . ."
"I get you," Greene said. "It's of great interest to Command."
"Anyway, I'm up for it. To be honest, it still falls within the parameters of our actual mission," Jessica said. "Explore unknown territory. Make contact where possible, so long as it doesn't violate directives in place to protect developing civilisations."
"And all that jazz."
"Yes. And I feel this side mission of ours could encompass all that. There's no way this thing is naturally occurring phenomena. It's completely, perfectly cylindrical. Built to precision," King said. "And the orbit is perfect. No degradation of any kind. It's out there, going round and round, an orbiting mystery."
"I take it you'll hold a meeting?"
Jessica nodded. "Yes, once we're under way. I'm going to stick with the profile and assign three teams. Sounds about right."
"Any thoughts on who should be on them?" Greene asked.
"Not yet. I'm still deciding. Anyway, I hear from Grimshaw we're to expect a guest. Doctor Wilf Gentry. I said we'd put him up in one of the ambassadorial suites," she said.
"Good idea. Who is he, anyway?" Greene asked.
"Some kind of expert on all this. To be honest, I'm not sure just how much the man is going to help. But hey, Grimshaw must have some reason for wanting him brought along."
"There is that . . ."
"It'll be fine," King assured him. "We'll be heading into the unknown. What could possibly go wrong?"
*
Commander Greene wandered down to the engineering section and, sure enough, found the Chief there barking orders.
"Uh, Meryl," he said from the open doorway.
She waved a hand at him. "Not now, Commander. This has turned into a farce!"
There were men and women everywhere, and he realised that hardly any of them were from the Defiant herself. They were engineers from station-side, and it became instantly apparent that Gunn took umbrage at having her engineering room commandeered by strangers.
"Calm down," he said.
She whirled on him. "I'll be calm when I'm confident this lot know what they're doing!"
"Chief . . ."
She ignored him.
"Chief!"
"Huh?"
He beckoned her over. "Come here, Chief. That's an order."
Commander Greene waited until the Chief was near the door, then he backed into the hall outside.
"Yeah?" she asked.
"Follow me," he ordered her, and led her away from engineering.
She walked behind him, still muttering under her breath about how her whole engine room had been thrown into disarray. How she was going to challenge several of the upgrades, first thing the following morning. How she would not rest until the Defiant was one hundred percent.
It only took a few minutes of this for the Commander's attention to fade. He just let her ramble on as they walked. Thankfully, they reached their destination soon enough.
"Here we are."
Greene led them into the mess hall – empty save for them – and showed her to a table at the far end, where he'd laid out a little spread for them both and a bottle of wine.
Chief Gunn's face instantly softened as she took in the scene. "Del . . . what is this?"
He took her hands in his. Meryl's big glassy eyes made his heart melt.
"I thought we could do with an hour together. Just you and me. Something to eat. A glass of wine," he said. "And besides, we did discuss this yesterday."
"We did?"
He nodded.
Gunn looked away, slightly embarrassed. "Sorry. I got so wrapped up in the ship and everything. And I'm still really –"
Commander Greene planted a kiss on her lips to quiet her. He was thankful he'd ordered the mess hall out of bounds for the next hour and a half.
There was plenty of food left when their time was up . . .
10.
Jessica chose her moment to visit the munitions section, knowing most of the crew were off ship getting some much needed R&R. She'd not had a chance to get down there, but the desire to do so had burned within her. She couldn't believe it had been as long as it had. It only seemed yesterday she'd been given her posting as Captain of the Defiant and sent on her way into uncharted territory. In a way, the ship had been her inheritance. Shortly after getting under way, she'd learned that Andrew Singh was her Father and it had made the words on the memorial plaque fixed to the bulkhead in munitions a lot more meaningful.
She turned a corner, and there it was:
IN MEMORIAM
CAPTAIN ANDREW SINGH
FATHER TO MANY
Now she looked around, located the place where he'd perished in her arms. The recollection of that day, now a year past, came racing home. It caught in her lungs, made her eyes sting. He'd been there. At that very spot. Right there, looking up at her . . .
*
She spotted Singh straight away. He lay on the floor, his helmet off. Two medics worked to keep him alive. They looked up as King approached.
Doctor Clayton stood. Jessica went to fall at Singh’s side, but the doctor stopped her. He placed his hands on her shoulders, held her at arm’s length.
"Commander, look at me. Look at me," he said.
Her eyes locked onto his.
Dr. Clayton’s eyes were full of regret, his voice firm, but tinged with sadness. "He’s dying. The explosion tore him apart. There’s too much . . . there’s nothing I can do for him now . . ."
Jessica looked over his shoulder. She saw the blood that covered the Captain and coated the floor around him. Her hand went to her mouth.
"I’m sorry," Dr. Clayton said. "He doesn’t have long."
He let go of her, dug his hands into his jacket pockets.
She walked past him and knelt by Singh’s side. He looked up at her and smiled. He was burnt all over. She fought to hide her horror. Jessica knew the Captain needed to see all the strength she could muster.
The mangled mess of his legs. The blood pooling from his midsection. His face grey, washed out. Tears streamed down her face.
Her voice cracked as she spoke. "Please don’t go, please."
Captain Singh shook his head slowly. Smiled. "Jess . . . We each have our time. My own is at an end . . ."
"No . . ." she managed to say.
Singh reached up, stroked the side of her face. "Now it is your turn to do as much as you can with the time you have . . ."
He smiled again, then his eyes seemed focus on something far away. The light in them faded. Singh’s hand fell away from hers and the sound of his last breath issued slowly from between his lips.
"No . . ." she whispered as she cradled him in her arms.
*
"Excuse me, Captain? Are you all right?"
She turned around to find an Ensign standing there, a look of concern on his face.
"Huh?" she asked, taken aback. She'd been certain there wasn't anyone down here.
"I didn't mean to startle you. I . . . it's just I saw you standing here . . ." he stammered.
Jessica smiled. She was well aware her eyes were moist, her face red.
"It's okay, Ensign. Just having a look about. I thought I was alone down here," she said.
"You would've been, but I didn't much fancy drinking tonight with the others. I'm very much looking forward to our next assignment, Ma'am," the Ensign said.
"Well, I am too. But don't be afraid to let your hair down a little," Jessica told him. "We all deserve a little break now and then."
The Ensign nodded. "Thanks. I'll remember that."
As Captain King left the munitions section, she thought, As will I.
*
Master At Arms Eisenhower peered up. "Haven't you got anything better to be doing with your time, sonny?"
Dollar grinned. "Nope. Hand me a wrench, will yuh?"
Eisenhower sighed, dug out a wrench and watched as the gifted pilot worked on his ship. He'd been slowly piecing together the antique star fighter for months, and it was nearly done.
"What did you say you're going to name this thing, when you're done?"
Dollar patted the nose of the ship. "I was thinkin' Dragonfly."
"Good name."
"Thanks."
"So, uh, you not with your lady friend this evening? I hear most of the crew's upped sticks and gone out for drinks and what have you," the Master At Arms inquired.
The hangar was quiet save for Dollar's antics, and it was a wonder Eisenhower wasn't tucked up in his quarters already. But the truth was, he'd found it hard to sleep the past couple of months. Ever since the accident . . .
"I was with her," Dollar said sheepishly. "Then I was with her, if yuh get my meanin'."
"Oh," Eisenhower said. He knew all too well. He'd been something of a ladies' man himself, many moons before.
"Anyways, she's asleep, and I'm there next to her thinkin' I'd like to get a few hours in down here," Dollar said. "Tell the truth, I didn't expect to see yerself down here either, fella."
"Can't sleep," Eisenhower said. He took the wrench from Dollar and swapped it for a long handled screwdriver. With every tool and implement at their disposal, sometimes there was no better tool than a good old-fashioned cross head.
Especially when it happened to be an antique that was being put together, piece by piece.
"I hear yuh," Dollar said softly. "The accident."
The Master At Arms nodded slowly. "Comes to me, now and then. Yourself?"
Dollar stopped what he was doing, looked up at some distant point.
"Sometimes."
They'd been down in the hangar bay when the Defiant got struck by a series of tachyon bursts from a nearby supernova. It played havoc with ship's systems, caused many of them to operate erratically, without warning. At the time, Jack Boi had been helping Dollar work on Dragonfly. The cargo bay doors opened of their own accord. Eisenhower raced for the manual override, but was too late. The pull of the vacuum lifted both men off of the half-built ship. Dollar managed to keep hold by the edge of his fingertips. Boi was not so lucky. He went tearing out into space a mere second before Eisenhower could get the doors closed.
"I can't get it out of my head," Eisenhower said. "If only I'd been a little quicker."
"Yuh can't get to thinkin' about that, pal," Dollar said. "It'll drive yuh mad."
Eisenhower smiled. "Old and senile already, son, I can't get much worse."
Dollar laughed. It broke the ice somewhat. "Hey old timer, pass me one of those spanners, will yuh?"
*
Jessica left the lights off and poured herself a drink. A more than adequate measure of icy cold vodka, it burned deliciously on its way down. She unbuttoned her uniform tunic and reclined on the sofa. She poured another glass, let loose a sigh, and gazed out at the stars beyond the porthole.
Jessica lifted her glass, as in a toast. "Here's to you, Dad."
She downed it. And poured another.
11.
It was a push, but by the end of the week the Defiant had been fully re-supplied and refitted where needed. The ship didn't have that "new car smell," but she did feel refreshed somewhat. Along with many other tweaks to her internal systems, the Defiant had been fitted with new hull plating and an energy shield. The old Archon classes had never had anything like an energy shield, and certainly the Defiant was one of the first to be fitted with such a device. Her weapon systems remained as they were, but she'd gained more speed and manoeuvrability due to several improvements to her propulsion systems.
When it came to updating the bridge, Jessica King had been adamant that the captain's chair had to stay.
"But don't you think it'll look out of place amongst all this new stuff?" one of the engineers asked her.
She simply shook her head. "If it goes, so do I."
Admiral Grimshaw approached the airlock, wrapping up his brief tour of the reinvigorated ship. "She's looking good, Captain."
"Thanks," King said. "She needed it, I think."
Grimshaw patted the nearby bulkhead. "Old but still has it where it counts."
Jessica beamed. "Yes."
"One day you'll have yourself a new ship. But for now, I think you've still got some mileage to come out of this one," Grimshaw said. He extended his hand and the two of them shook. "Good luck on your mission, Captain King. There is an apt phrase for moments just like this. Perhaps you've heard it?"
She cocked an eyebrow. "Go on."
It can’t be any worse than the one about "knowing the ledge," she thought.
"Good hunting," the Admiral said. He threw her a wink then turned and disappeared through the airlock to the station side.
12.
"Captain on the bridge," Commander Greene declared. The bridge crew stood to attention and saluted her. It was an over-the-top tradition from the earliest days of the Union fleet. Jessica threw Greene a puzzled look but proceeded to take her place in the captain's chair regardless, as if nothing were out of place.
She knew it was the Commander's kind of humour. He'd been around so long, he knew there was no way she would reproach him for such a stunt. Official protocol called for such pomp every time she walked onto the bridge. Of course, it was unreasonable and absurd to expect that . . . and embarrassing to boot.
But I'll get him back, she thought. The crew took to their stations again, and the Commander glanced sideways at her. Jessica smirked but kept her composure.
"Where are we, people?"
"Every system is a go," Commander Chang reported. "Reactor nominal. All boards green."
"Helm?" King asked.
"Ready to go on your command," Banks replied.
"Good. Ensign Rayne, have we cleared permission with starbase control?"
Olivia Rayne turned around, holding the comm. piece in her ear. "Aye, Captain. We have clearance to cast off."
Jessica shifted in her seat. "Then you may take us out, Mister Banks."
"Aye," the helmsman said. His fingers graced the control boards of the console and the Defiant responded to his touch.
"Commander Greene, if you'd like to take your seat and clip yourself in. We wouldn't want you falling out of your chair," King advised.
The Commander took the jibe with grace and sat nearby. The thrusters came online, detectable by a soundless vibration underfoot. There was a slight jolt as the docking collars disengaged from the station. Lieutenant Banks backed the ship up until they had twenty metres clearance and then nudged her forward, tilting the nose up. Waking the engines, he took the Defiant up and away from the station in a sudden surge of energy.
"It wasn't strictly regulation," Jessica said. "But it was perfectly executed. Nice work."
"Thank you Captain," Banks said, suddenly aware that he'd narrowly avoided a reprimand – and perhaps on any other ship, under any other skipper, he might have gotten one.
On the viewscreen, now showing an aft view, they left the station rapidly behind them.
"Take us to full speed, Lieutenant," King ordered.
"Aye."
She turned to Chang. "Everything still as it should be? No anomalous readings?"
Commander Chang shook her head. "No change, Ma'am."
"Fine, then you may spool the Jump Drive, Lieutenant."
"Yes Captain," Chang said.
"Commander?" King asked Commander Greene down by the weapons station.
Greene got up to stand by her. "Our course is plotted."
"Well then, Lieutenant Banks, initiate the Jump," Jessica ordered.
The ship's primary pilot nodded his head, moved his hand to the Drive controls and eased the ignition lever forward. Within seconds the Defiant underwent the familiar shift of the Jump and they were travelling in a manner so unnaturally advanced and fast that to primitive minds it would have been akin to magic.
"Jump speed attained," Banks reported from the helm as the stars flew past.
Magic . . . Jessica thought.
13.
Commander Greene found Dr. Gentry in the officer's mess, draining the last of a mint tea.
"Doctor Gentry?" he asked as he stood over the bespectacled man with greying hair.
"Yes?"
"I'm Commander Del Greene," he said and offered his hand. Doctor Gentry either dismissed the gesture or did not notice. He stood up, instead, and fetched his bags from the floor.
"Pleasure to meet you, Commander Greene. I am Doctor Gentry."
Greene cocked his head to one side, trying to figure out if the Doctor was toying with him, or genuinely forgetful.
Maybe the guy's mad, he thought. Maybe there's something wrong with him.
"Yes, I know that," Greene told him.
"Oh, good," Gentry said. "Don't you dislike introductions?"
"If you'll come with me, Doctor, I'll show you to your room."
Gentry shuffled along behind him as the Commander led him out of the mess hall. With his wild charcoal and silver hair, etched face and awkward gait, he looked like some kind of hospital outpatient.
"This is a nice ship," Gentry remarked. "The nicest I've been on."
"Yes. Have you been on many?"
Gentry shook his head. "None."
This is some kind of joke, Greene thought. Someone's having a laugh at our expense. Who is this crackpot?
"Well, you'll find the Defiant more than comfortable," Greene explained. "We've had dignitaries aboard many times. Never had any complaints."
"Yes, yes," Gentry said almost dismissively. Behind his glasses, big blue eyes flitted about as he took in the corridor they walked down, the signs on the walls, the overhead lights. "So, uh, what ship is this, d'you say?"
*
Dr. Clayton pressed a wad of cotton wool to the spot on Jessica's forearm where he'd just injected her.
"Now, you know this is only the second course," he explained to her. Nurse Shook stepped in and covered the area with a bandage. With medical science advanced as it was, cotton wool and bandages were still indispensable for any medical practitioner.
"Thank you," Jessica said.
"You're welcome," Shook said and walked off.
Clayton wrote something on his data tablet, then regarded her with his arms crossed. "How do you feel?"
Jessica shrugged. "Like myself, I suppose. I couldn't say I feel any different."
"That's the point. You're meant to feel normal. The only thing that'll happen is that, with luck, you won't ever feel the effects of the MS again. If my man back at the Havadi Medical Research is correct, it should push it into permanent remission. You won't even know you've got it," the Doctor explained.
"We'll see," she said sceptically.
"You're not an optimist, are you Jess?" Clayton asked her.
She shook her head. "Nope. A realist."
Clayton broke into a big smile. "I believe that's true. And you know what? You'd have made a swell Doctor yourself."
"Are you saying you don't believe in hope and prayer?" she asked him.
"Exactly that," he said. "Though in this case, I believe a little hope doesn't hurt."
"Thanks," Captain King said. She stood up from the edge of the hospital bed and got back into her uniform tunic. Her arm was sore from the jab, but if it all worked then it was definitely worth it.
"You're welcome, now get outta here. I'm a busy man. I've got one crew member with a distended anus and another with a broken toe," Clayton said, deadpan.
Even as she left the medical bay and headed down the corridor outside, Jessica couldn't stop giggling. And she'd not for one second thought to inquire as to how a member of her crew would end up with a distended anus. Some things were confidential, after all.
14.
"I'd say you run a tight ship, Chief," King said as she surveyed the engineering section. "But I think it'd be a weird saying to come out with given our mode of transport."
Chief Gunn led her toward the vast reactor, her hands in the front pocket of her overalls. "Though it'd be true," she said.
"Yes," King said. "And I'd expect nothing less from you, Chief. You've done a fine job getting her finished in time. I owe you one."
Gunn shook her head. "No, Captain, you owe me more than that. The boys on the station were good, but they were sloppy, too. I should be on a higher pay grade for what I had to put up with."
"Bad, huh?"
"You wouldn't believe it," Gunn said. "I've seen second grade yeoman with more competence."
"Yeah, but you're a harsh mistress," Jessica said. She took a moment to admire the massive reactor. There was nothing to really look at, housed within feet of thick alloy such as it was. However it did make a particular sound, a kind of ticking from within. It served to reinforce the impression of the reactor as the very heart of the ship. A big mechanical heart with a cosmic reaction at its centre.
Jessica stood with a hand resting against the rhythmically vibrating metal.
"I used to do this when I was cadet," she said.
"Under Captain Singh?" the Chief asked her.
She smiled at the memory. "Fresh faced and naïve. In awe of a starship for just being what it was, you know? As if it were a big muscle, ploughing through space."
"I get you," Gunn said.
"Hey, Chief," Ensign Greg Benedict said. "We're ready to test the auxiliary recyclers."
"Yeah, I'll be with you in a minute," Gunn said.
"It's okay. Get on with what you've got to do," King told her. "I know you're busy."
The Chief nodded and left. Jessica remained a moment longer, her hand feeling every fluctuation of the Defiant's heart – every beat – as it propelled them through the vacuum toward their target destination. And that may yet prove a bigger mystery than anything they had yet faced.
15.
"Everyone be seated," Captain King said. "I'll try not to drag this out more than necessary. Lights."
The ceiling lights automatically dimmed, and a holodisplay appeared in front of them. Around the table were Commander Greene, Chief Meryl Gunn, Dr. Clayton, Commander Chang, Dr. Dana Oriz and their latest addition, Dr. Gentry, who was sipping a carton of some juice or other.
They all watched as the display showed a star system.
Jessica waved a hand, and the Defiant's course appeared as a thin red line that snaked its way into the system. The display tracked their progress, revealing planets circling a sun.
"This is the Namar system. Some of you may or may not be aware of the race. I wasn't until I looked them up. Don't ask me any questions just yet. Wait until I've finished," Jessica said, sensing that a few of them may be about to inquire about the Namar. "Everything will be made evident."
The display continued to press in on the system, focusing on one of the planets in particular. The huge gas giant that looked like Jupiter. As the display expanded, it showed several moons in orbit.
"This is our target. There isn't an official astronomical designation for this planetoid, so for now we're meant to refer to it as NA-45. Command's choice, not mine," she explained. Now it became evident just what it was they were headed for. The holodisplay showed a jet black cylinder in orbit. "This object, assigned the code name Enigma, is what we've been sent to investigate. Commander, time till we reach the system?"
"Two days," Greene answered. "We have to slow down considerably to cross the Plutom Rift, otherwise it would be sooner."
"That's fine. In fact, I'm thankful for the extra time. It will allow us to approach this thing fully prepared," King said.
Doctor Oriz sat forward. "Captain, any idea on dimensions? Mass?"
Jessica shook her head slowly. "Details are very sketchy. The probe that acquired these images didn't have long to take detailed readings. It is known, however, that the object is sixty kilometres long, twenty kilometres wide. Other than that, we don't know. That's why we've been sent to observe and investigate in person."
"I see," Dana Oriz said.
"The Namar wiped themselves out a long time ago, but this object – this Enigma – could well be a relic of their civilisation. Or, just as likely, something from outside their system. Our task is to rendezvous with the Enigma and find out as much about it as possible," King said.
"Do we think any races outside of the Union may have noticed it already?" Chang asked.
"We don't believe so. From what we can tell, the Namar system is quite out of bounds for most. Do any of you know its unofficial nickname? I read it up last night . . ."
None of them offered a contribution.
"Merchants call the system 'The Graveyard,'" Jessica said and watched as Commander Greene visibly swallowed.
"That's a little disconcerting," he said.
King flicked off the holodisplay. "Lights." The room brightened instantly.
"So how do we plan to survey the object?" Commander Chang asked her.
"We will have three teams at least. I'll draw up the team members in a couple of hours. They will consist of a team leader and two others. I will head one. Commander Greene's priority will be coordinating the efforts of the teams from this end. Of course, this is provided we can gain access to the inside of the Enigma," Jessica said. "And, just pre-empting the Commander decrying the fact he's being left aboard, there will hopefully be a chance for him to do some exploring too."
Greene looked around, his cheeks glowing.
"I really wouldn't have," he said.
Jessica smiled. "I think this makes us even, Commander?" she asked, referring to his stunt up on the bridge.
He cocked an eyebrow as he looked up at her. "You surprise me . . ."
The Captain opened her arms in mock innocence. The Chief started to laugh and Dr. Clayton joined her.
There was a cough from the end of the table and all eyes turned to Dr. Gentry.
"Captain? If I may?" he asked.
Jessica nodded. "Yes. I'm sorry, Doctor. I completely forgot about you. Everyone, this is Doctor Gentry. Our resident expert on things like this. He'll be assisting us."
"Thank you," Gentry said. "And please, by all means, feel free to call me Wilf or Wilfred if you find Doctor too formal. Anyway, I was about to say that there will, of course, have to be thorough checks made of the object before any kind of contact can be made. We have to rule a lot out."
"Such as?" Commander Greene asked.
"I would suggest, for a start, that we fire garbage at the Enigma," Gentry said. "We must test the object to ensure it is not comprised of anti-matter. The simple act of this ship docking with it could cause an explosion equal to the Big Bang. And that, of course, would prove most unfortunate."
Chief Gunn shot a puzzled look at Commander Greene, who shook his head in a way that said "Later."
"We'll certainly take all of your points into consideration, Doctor Gentry. How soon can you have a list of suggestions to me?" Jessica asked.
"Within the hour," Gentry told her. "Provided I can figure out how to use the outdated computers on this ship."
"Good. I'll send someone along to give you a hand. Once I read your recommendations, I'll update the mission profile accordingly," King said. "Now, are there any other questions? No? Well, I would like everyone to read what they can about the Namar. When the teams have been decided, I'll be assigning them all this very task anyway. We should have a basic grasp of what the Namar were like before getting there. I have a feeling it will help."
"Yes Captain," the Commander said on behalf of them all.
"Good. Then everyone go back to what you were doing. Please, do what you can to assist Doctor Gentry and help him feel comfortable during his stay on the Defiant. I'll have the team listings posted to the intership circuits shortly," she said and dismissed them all.
16.
"Come in," she called.
Dollar walked into her quarters and waited for the door to close again so they could have privacy.
"Captain," he said.
"Have a seat, Lieutenant Dolarhyde," Jessica said. She watched as he sat on the sofa, then offered him a drink.
"No thanks."
"Fair enough," Jessica said. She took her coffee over to the little table and set it near the edge. "So how're you getting on? It's been a year now."
"Yep I know," he said. "And I'm doin' fine. Considerin' the fact I've had to start from scratch, I don't think it's gone too bad."
Jessica smiled. "I see things have flourished with Miss Walker."
"Yep, they're goin' well."
"I've got to say, I'm impressed with how you've taken charge of the starfighter situation. I'm a little ashamed to admit that that whole aspect of ship's operations sort of fell by the wayside over time," Jessica said.
And it was true. More and more, the Union had favoured direct ship-to-ship combat rather than the protracted starfighter operations of generations earlier. However, the Defiant was an old girl. And she still had all her old fighters.
Dollar – Hawk – had been repairing them, one by one, and training the crew in their use. So far the program had been a roaring success. It'd certainly helped to have a few active fighters when the Defiant found herself pitted against three Cantrellian raiders months before.
"I'm proud of the program, to say the least," Dollar admitted. "My recruits have come along well."
"And you've built your own ship," King said. "I popped down there not so long ago. It's coming together nicely. Hard to believe it's been put together out of spare parts."
"Yep. I even picked a name. The Dragonfly."
"I like it," Jessica said. "I know Jack Boi would have, too," she said.
Right now, her report on the death of Boi was being read by the powers-that-be at command, in which she strongly suggested a redesign of backup emergency control systems. Chief Gunn had already made some adjustments to the systems herself, to ensure it wouldn't happen again . . . to ensure there wouldn't be another Jack Boi tragedy.
"Yeah . . ." Dollar said. He looked away.
Jessica chose to move away from the subject. "This whole situation must have been so strange to begin with," she said. "But you've dealt with it well. Can I ask you something?"
"Sure, go ahead."
"Do you ever, you know, think about . . . them? That whole time?"
It was, perhaps, the most awkward question she'd ever asked him. But late at night, when she was at the point of going to sleep, Jessica pondered it too. As if the video message had not been enough, here was Gerard "Hawk" Nowlan, a once-famous hero of the Union during the heyday of the Terran-Draxx war. Son of the infamous rogue the media had called "The Tattooed Man," back in the day. Now he went by the name Dollar. And he was undeniable proof of another timeline. Proof of a version of herself that had lived and died in the service of the crew she loved.
I will do you proud, she'd once told herself, late at night, as she lay contemplating what had happened. You died for them. You died for me. I will not let all of that be in vain.
"I think about it sometimes," Dollar admitted. "But I try not to. It'll drive yuh mad, y'know? I can't say I don't miss 'em from time to time though."
She didn't press him on the matter. Some things were best accepted . . . and left at that.
"Oh, and your trusty kataan? You don't miss that?" Jessica asked him.
To this Dollar gave a sly smirk. "Well, there's some things it's hard to give up. There might be a storage container somewhere on this ship with a kataan in it, but I couldn't honestly say I know what you're talkin' about, Cap."
She shook her head. Picked up her drink and took a sip. "Cowboys . . ."
17.
"Any aches and pains?"
Jessica shook her head. "It's like I don't even have it. It's weird."
Dr. Clayton checked the readout. "You seem to have taken to the medication well," he said. "In fact you've responded more than well. The treatment has been kind of miraculous. Blood pressure's higher than normal, though, but in all fairness that's probably to be expected."
"Oh, really? Does it do that?" Jessica asked him.
Clayton smiled. "No. Not the medication. I meant the stress you've been under."
"Right."
He put his hands in the pockets of his white lab coat and regarded her as a wizened adult looks at a child. "When was the last time you put your feet up and just relaxed?"
"Doc, really, I don't need –"
He held up a hand. "Save it. I'm ordering you take a few hours off. ASAP. As your ship's surgeon, you do know I can have you removed from command for being medically unfit, don't you?"
"Are you implying you'd start an insurrection?" King asked him. "Have me thrown in the brig?"
"Sure will if you don't do as you're told, for chrissakes!" Clayton said. "Now do what your doctor orders and take the night off. Have a goddamn drink. Dance. Have a doze on the sofa. Read a novel from the ship's library. Whatever it takes to relax."
"Okay. Point taken," she said. "I'll admit I don't give myself enough time off. Maybe I should."
"You definitely should."
"And I will do, Doc. Tonight," she assured him.
"Good. Now, you do remember what I told you, don't you? This stuff won't cure you. But it will deal with the symptoms . . . fingers crossed, of course. What does that mean? Well, it means the MS will always be there. You've got it the rest of your life."
"I know . . ." Jessica said softly. The implications of her condition weren't lost on her. "It's nice to be able to forget it's there, though."
"And to know you probably won't end up in a hover chair in ten years time," Clayton said. "However, I'll make the point about the stress thing again. Don't give yourself enough time off, get yourself too stressed, and the symptoms of the MS will most likely make a return. Forget the medication. There's only so much it can do for you. You've gotta help it along, too."
"Understood, Doctor," she said and hopped off the edge of the bed.
"Where're you going?"
She headed straight for the door. Thanks to Clayton, she'd not felt so good in a long time. The drugs were working. It was a kind of remission – one she hoped her condition would never return from.
"Me? I'm off duty as of now, Doctor."
18.
Discovered by the starship Avalon and named by Captain Laurie Plutom herself three centuries beforehand, the Rift stretched like a belt across several systems. Consisting of corrosive nebulous gases and boiling plasma, the Plutom Rift proved a challenging prospect for any and all who dared to cross it. Many ships had been lost to it, but a full three centuries later, the Rift had finally been conquered. A starship travelling at just the right speed, following the correct route and fitted with the correct kit could traverse the Rift without incident.
And so it was that the Defiant ploughed its way through the incandescent extremities of the Plutom Rift, the glowing green energies parting along the Defiant's bow, like waves of phosphorous breaking before a ship on the open sea.
As it cruised the Rift, encountering the occasional pocket of turbulence as the Defiant's passage caused one gas or another to react in a mildly explosive manner against the hull, it was not unexpected for the crew to dim the lights and observe the light show beyond the porthole.
As Captain Laurie Plutom herself had noted, three hundred years earlier:
". . . at no other time was I so reminded of that bygone age, when men and women – shackled to our native Earth as they were – travelled the seas of our world. And where they encountered strangeness, where they met with the unknown, they similarly found themselves on the high tides of majesty. In the presence of such beauty, one can only feel humbled at our small, insignificant place in the galaxy . . ."
*
"She said it's some kind of tradition," Commander Greene said as he and the Chief approached the door to Captain King's quarters. "Some old maritime thing."
"Has she ever sailed on the water?" Chief Meryl Gunn asked him.
The Commander laughed. "No. But maybe she's read about it."
They signalled at her door, and then stepped in. King had the lights down in there, but it was in no way dark. The bright green glow of the Rift itself filled the room.
"Come in. Have a seat," Jessica said.
Commander Chang was already there, nursing a glass of something neither the Commander or the Chief could readily identify.
"Hey," Chang said.
"What's your poison?" Gunn asked as she sat.
"Sake," Chang said. "I've not had any in ages. Miraculously, the Captain had a bottle stowed away."
"Oh really?" Greene asked.
Jessica shrugged midway through fixing their drinks. "What? A girl's not allowed to have a hobby?"
"Collecting different liquor ain't no hobby, Captain," Greene remarked. "It's a worry note in Doctor Clayton's file."
"Oh shush," Jessica said. She handed him and the Chief a glass each of Sake. "Get that down you. And less of the Captain, Del. There's no ranks in here tonight."
"Rank free, eh?" Gunn asked.
"Uh-huh," King said. She indicated the cards on the table. "And no quitters allowed."
"What're we playing?" Greene asked. He sipped his drink with trepidation but evidently found it agreeable, since it didn't end up spat out. "Snap?"
"No. It's a little something I've been wanting to try for a while. It's called Quadrille. Ever heard of it?" she asked them.
Chang shook her head. "No, but now I see the significance of there being four of us here."
"Traditionally, it was a ladies' game, so apologies for that in advance, Del," Jessica said. "It dates back to antiquity but I think you'll enjoy it, anyway."
Gunn slapped his arm, laughing. "Oh, he's nothing but a big girl anyway. You really think it's going to bother him he's playing a ladies' game with a bunch of women?"
"Oit . . ." Greene said.
"And I'm afraid there won't be any dressing up," Jessica said.
The Commander rolled his eyes. He said "Oh right . . ." in a defeated tone of voice.
"Ah, now you've ruined his whole evening," Gunn said.
Lisa Chang just sat there sniggering to herself.
"Picking on a boy, three onto one . . ." Greene said.
Jessica drank her Sake, then sat down next to Chang. "Right, shall I tell you all how it's played? As I said it was a ladies' game. It originates from eighteenth century France. Like I said, antiquity."
They all knew France and much of Spain had been wiped from the face of the Earth by an asteroid impact in 2930.
"Can I have another drink?" Greene asked, defeated.
"In a minute. First you have to hear the rules," Jessica said.
Outside, the Plutom Rift drifted past. A sea of deep green cloud banks and away in the distance, what could have been mistaken for distant lightning going off like fireworks over the ocean.
19.
The last tendrils of the Plutom Rift parted for them, a curtain of swirling green mist that swept aside to afford them a sudden view of the Namar system.
"Report," Captain King said as she arrived on the bridge. Luckily, just in time to see the Namar system presented before the Defiant. She sat in the captain's chair.
"Entering the Namar system," Chang reported. "I'm plotting the location of the Enigma now."
"Very well," King said. She watched as their expected course – and target – appeared as a graphic overlay on the viewscreen. A label identified the moon NA-45.
"Altering course and speed to accommodate," Banks said.
"Good. Not too fast, Lieutenant. And when we come within five million kilometres, I want you to bring us to a full stop," Jessica ordered.
The Defiant turned toward the inner planets, and there was a barely perceptible tilt to the bridge as Banks handled her with expert skill. "Aye," he said.
"Commander, anything in the vicinity?" she asked.
Greene shook his head. "Whole system's dead, or so it seems. No signs of activity."
"Until now," King said.
"Let's hope 'The Graveyard' is just a euphemism," Greene added.
*
"Firing braking thrusters," Lieutenant Banks declared as he brought the Defiant to a full stop. Up ahead, the Enigma was a small, black oblong crossing the face of the moon around which it was in orbit. NA-45 was a dirty, brown colour, with notes of sulphur in its upper atmosphere.
"What can you tell me about the planetoid beyond?" King asked.
"High speed winds blasting the surface with silicate particles, acid rain, a thin nitrogen atmosphere," Chang said. "Definitely not a holiday destination."
"Nice," King said. "And the Enigma itself?"
"Never seen anything like it," Chang said. "Not in terms of a starship design, anyway. And certainly not anywhere near that size."
"Prepare the probes," Commander Greene told her.
"Aye."
Jessica accessed her comm. controls. "Doctor Gentry to the bridge, please. Doctor Gentry to the bridge."
Commander Chang looked up from her console. "Probe's ready to launch."
"Do it," Commander Greene ordered.
"Yes Ma'am. Launching now," Chang said. There was a soft whoosh from somewhere, and then the two probes appeared on the viewscreen, speeding away from the front end of the Defiant.
"Track them," Jessica ordered.
"Aye," Chang said.
"Holding at five million kilometres," Banks announced as he shut off the braking thrusters.
"Excellent," Jessica said. She looked across at Olivia Rayne. "Ensign, are you detecting any communications from that thing?"
Rayne shook her head. "No, Captain. Whatever it is, it's totally silent on all spectrums and frequencies."
"Thirty seconds until contact," Chang said. She watched her readouts intently.
The probes' paths appeared on the viewscreen as red lines, both converging at the same point. The Enigma . . .
"Ten seconds."
"Talk us through it," Jessica said.
Chang licked her lips. "Probe One will cover every angle of the Enigma with cameras, holographic mapping sensors and will detect any traces of radiation. Probe Two is using everything in its arsenal to figure out what it's made of, its velocity, mass. It will also fire its jets at the Enigma to test Doctor Gentry's theory."
"What theory's that again?" Greene asked.
"That the device may be made up of anti-matter," a voice said behind them. Dr. Gentry stepped onto the bridge. "And if it is, we would no longer exist if we were to dock with it."
"I thought I remembered something about shooting garbage at it . . ." Greene mumbled.
"Welcome to the bridge, Doctor," King said. "Take a seat. I thought you'd appreciate being up here."
"Thank you, thank you, yes," he said. He picked the nearest seat and plonked himself down on it. "It's all very exciting!"
Commander Greene gave Jessica a look that said, "I can't believe you've let him up here," but she simply dismissed it.
"Probe Two firing jets now," Chang said.
"Everyone close your eyes!" Dr. Gentry boomed. All bridge hands turned to watch him cower forward, hands over his eyes, expecting the end of the universe as they knew it.
Nothing happened.
"No reaction," Chang said with what sounded like borderline laughter.
"Maintain your composure, Lieutenant. All heads forward! Everyone focus on the task at hand," Jessica snapped.
Dr. Gentry looked up. "Oh, we weren't obliterated . . ." he said in a tone that sounded almost disappointed.
"Probes holding position around the Enigma, Captain," Commander Chang said.
"Good. Keep them in a fixed flight path. Why don't you head on down to the briefing room with Doctor Gentry and collate the data from there? Commander Greene and myself will be along in a few minutes," King said.
"Aye," Chang said. Gentry got up and left with her.
Commander Greene walked over to the science and tactical station. He watched on the sensor readout as the Enigma started to drift out of direct line of sight.
"We'll lose visual soon," he said.
"Yes, and in a few hours we'll get it back," Jessica said. She got up and headed for the door. "That should give us enough time to decide our next move."
20.
The lights dimmed in the briefing room and the holodisplay came to life before them.
"Here is the visual telemetry from Probe One," Chang said.
The display showed the approach to the Enigma. The sheer size of the thing was awe inspiring. It was truly massive, and as the probe swung about to do a full fly-by, it was clear that the Enigma was precision engineering at an epic scale.
"No blemishes. Nothing to break it up," Commander Greene said.
"Sorry, Commander, but that is quite incorrect," Dr. Gentry said. He pointed to the display, rewinding it and slowing the footage to show the side of the giant black cylinder. "Do you see them?"
Jessica leaned forward. "Those lines?"
"Yes. Splits in the hull. From what I saw, those lines cover the entire circumference of the cylinder," Gentry said. "Perhaps the vessel was constructed in three parts. Or is intended to be separated into three when the need arises."
"Hmm . . ." Jessica said, lost in her own thoughts.
"Moving on," Chang said. She started the display again. The probe swung around the cylinder, then proceeded to map the surface. The video footage cut off, replaced by a perfectly accurate 3D model of the Enigma. "Aside from those lines, there are no markings on the sides of the ship. However, I have noted markings at each end."
"Propulsion?" Greene asked.
Chang swung the model of the Enigma about, manipulating the projection with her hands. Then she zoomed in. One end of the cylinder expanded until it nearly consumed the entire room.
"These three holes would appear to be vents of some kind. I'd wager that they're some form of propulsion, as the Commander just posited," Commander Chang said.
"BUT!" Gentry almost yelled. It made them jump. He took over, zoomed out, then swung the model about to show the opposite end. "Here, at the front, I believe we have a docking port."
Jessica's eyebrows rose. "Really?"
"Yes, but it will require a great amount of skill to mate the Defiant to it," Gentry said, almost chuckling at the innuendo. "The cylinder – excuse me, the Enigma – shows a persistent rotation of one gee."
He zoomed back in, now showing a single circular airlock.
"You know, I've seen a lot of weird ships," King said. "But most have the basics. A means of propulsion, an airlock, a front and a back."
"Well, we have an airlock. But how do we attach to it? Do we know the composition of the hull?" Greene asked.
Commander Chang consulted the data collected from Probe Two. "An unknown alloy. Slightly rough in texture. Little to no reflective properties. If this thing weren't in front of a planet, it wouldn't have been seen at all."
"Yes, the rough texture no doubt caused by the constant bombardment of micrometeors and debris," Dr. Gentry offered.
"Thank you, Doctor," King said. She turned to Commander Greene. "Have the Chief knock something up. Perhaps some kind of pressure seal."
"What're you thinking? The Walkway?" Greene asked.
Jessica nodded. "That way we can keep the Defiant a good distance away and remain connected. It'll take some expert flying from Banks, though."
The Walkway was an extendable docking collar intended specifically for situations such as that. The exploratory team would be able to travel from the Defiant to the Enigma, single file but in relative safety. Of course, something could go wrong and tear the Walkway, but that was a risk they had to take. And they'd all be suited up anyway.
"I think the kid's got the goods," Greene said with a grin.
"Well, I honestly don't see any other way around it," Jessica said. "The logistics of getting a shuttle on there, and ensuring it remains fixed . . . it'd just be a nightmare."
"Due to the spin of the Enigma, anything positioned anywhere but the exact centre would begin to drift away, flung out into space by the Enigma's rotational energies," Gentry explained. "I concur with your plan, Captain. It's sound."
Jessica almost sniggered, but she held it in. "I appreciate your confidence, Doctor," she managed to say.
"Before we wrap this up," Greene said. "Any anomalous readings coming off that thing we should know about? Radiation? Evidence of an energy shield?"
Chang shook her head. "Nothing. It's simply a great black cylinder of metal in space. Holes at one end for propulsion, and a hole at the front for visitors."
"And have you found records of anything similar in the Union's dealings with alien races?" Greene asked.
"No. This is the first of its kind," Chang said.
"Then the name is apt," Jessica said as she stood. "And we're truly heading into the unknown. Who can predict what we might find over there . . . ?"
PART II
The Unknown
21.
Lieutenant Kyle Banks eased the Defiant into an orbit alongside the Enigma, matching the other vessel's pitch and velocity perfectly.
Captain King stood behind him, her hands pressed into the back of his chair.
"Good flying, Lieutenant," she said. "Now ease us forward so we slowly overtake."
He bit his bottom lip as he nudged the Defiant into a slightly faster orbital speed. It meant that the Enigma started to slide past to port as the Defiant sped past. When they'd crept ahead of the Enigma by several ship's lengths, Banks swung the Defiant about to face the other ship, using its own inertia to maintain speed.
His hands keyed the helm controls with precision as he allowed the Defiant to drift to the right, directly in the path of the Enigma's massive, intimidating bulk.
"I'm putting our target area up on the viewscreen now," Commander Chang said. A second later, an area highlighted in red appeared where the Enigma's airlock was. It showed distance, size of target area and other information Banks would find useful as he gently positioned the Defiant opposite the other ship.
"Now fixing our position," Banks said. The bridge crew remained silent, and his voice almost echoed off the walls. "I'll be using reverse engines to maintain present speed."
Jessica King reflected on the crazy nature of orbital mechanics. While to them, they would barely seem to be moving at all, they were in fact travelling at great speed. And they would have a mysterious black behemoth chasing their tail the whole time. The slightest change in velocity . . .
"Done," Banks said. He breathed a sigh of relief. "We're locked on. Ready to deploy the Walkway on your command."
She patted his shoulder. "Lieutenant, I want you here as much as possible. Train a crew member of your choosing to monitor the helm when you're away. That thing could speed up, or move away, at a moment's notice."
"Aye, Captain," Banks said. "Understood."
Jessica did not add: That's probably more likely to happen once we've got past the airlock. It might not appreciate intruders.
She kept this to herself for the moment. No doubt the others were thinking it anyway.
*
"So you've picked your teams then?" Commander Greene asked her as they grabbed a coffee in the mess hall.
Jessica scrolled down the list of names on her data tablet.
"Yes. As you know, I want you aboard the Defiant at all times."
He nodded as if this were something he totally agreed with, and yet she noted a distinct despondent vibe from him.
"Del, I need someone on the ship I totally trust. Someone who knows what they're doing," she said. She looked about. The mess was only half full and they'd sat up one end of the room, away from everyone else. "Right now, that's you. I wish I could have you exploring that thing with me."
He smiled. "Listen, Jess, you don't have to explain your decisions to me. I understand. And I totally agree. Doesn't stop me feeling sour about it, though, does it? I'll get over it."
She nodded. "You're hormonal, but you're the right kind of hormonal."
Greene sipped his coffee. "Right, so, who's your picks?"
"Team One will consist of myself, Gary Belcher and Dana Oriz. Of course, I'll be the leader for that particular team," she said with a smirk.
"I thought you might feel like promoting poor Belcher . . ." Greene said.
"And rob the Chief of her right hand man? Never," Jessica said with a chuckle. "I'm afraid Gary will be in that engineering room till he grows a snowy white beard."
The Commander laughed behind his coffee cup to try and conceal it.
"Anyway, Team Two will have Lisa Chang as leader, accompanied by Peter Davies and Doctor Gentry, our latest addition to the funny farm," King explained. "Technically, Davies is a doctor like Gentry and Oriz, but he's been aboard a long time. Seen a few assignments off ship. His field's flora and fauna, and I thought it might be a good idea to have someone like that on one of the teams."
"Agreed," Greene said.
"Olivia Rayne will head Team Three –"
"Huh!?" Greene said, his eyes widening in surprise. "Little Olivia? You serious?"
Jessica nodded. "Calm down. You know, sometimes you literally jump the gun."
"Sorry."
"You stopped me before I could say that Lieutenant Jackson will also be on the team. And Jackson's a fine man, but he's too hot-headed to lead a team. I think we need someone with a little more . . . poise. That's why I chose Rayne."
Greene shifted uncomfortably. "I think she's the wrong one."
"Trust me."
He shrugged. "Okay. We'll agree to disagree on this one. So who else is on the team?"
"Oh, Selena Walker. I've tried to get as broad a range of expertise across the three teams as I can. Engineering, communications, science, history, tactical, and more. They're all there," Jessica said.
"And when are we gonna try and go across?" Greene asked.
"As soon as possible. I don't want to waste any time. As soon as that Walkway is fitted, I'll be leading the teams over there to bust that thing open and find out what's inside," she said.
"Man, I wish I could go with you . . ." Greene said wistfully.
Me too, Jessica thought. But what she said was: "I know."
*
The Defiant maintained constant velocity ahead of the Enigma. Indeed, if it were not for the planetoid below racing past, it might have looked as if the old Union ship were simply sitting in front of the huge cylinder. But it had matched the Enigma's orbital movement perfectly, maintaining a constant distance.
Chief Meryl Gunn watched on the monitor as the Walkway slowly emerged from the nose of the Defiant. She realised it was as if the two ships (and the Enigma could only be a ship – couldn't it?) were facing one another down.
David and Goliath, she thought idly. The Walkway stuck out like a long taper, a thin tongue. With minor bursts of propellant, the very end of the extendable docking corridor could be adjusted before reaching the other vessel's hull.
"Remember, Lieutenant, you only get one shot," she told Banks.
Lieutenant Banks wriggled his shoulders uncomfortably, due in no small part to the fact she was literally breathing down his neck as he performed the tricky feat. There were only the two of them down in the cramped dock control room, at the very front end of the Defiant. It was rarely used, and mostly intended for when a secure dock to a space station couldn't be achieved without putting the superstructure of a starship at risk of damage. Then it was advisable to make use of the extendable docking device.
However, it certainly came in handy now.
"Ten seconds until contact," the Lieutenant said. "Let's hope your modifications work."
"Hey, don't question a woman's workmanship. It'll work," she said.
Banks bit his bottom lip with concentration as the targeting reticule zeroed in on their goal: the airlock at the front end of the Enigma.
"Making final adjustments," he said and bumped the end of the Walkway a little to the left. It lined up perfectly. He cut the speed and allowed it to drift to the point where it nearly came to a complete stop. With the final vestiges of its inertia, the end of the Walkway met the black hull of the mysterious Enigma. Without the Chief's modifications to the end of the Walkway, it might not have held in place.
Indeed, the Chief had visions of it ricocheting back off, the Walkway swinging out into space and the Lieutenant struggling to reel it back in . . .
But it held. Just as she'd known it would.
Banks appeared to be impressed. "It's holding. One hundred percent contact."
"Yep. Just like I said. Don't question my workmanship, boy-o."
22.
Like many intrepid explorers throughout history, Captain Jessica King went first. She led all three teams, single file, through the full length of the Walkway. It was a little disconcerting to have the slightly flexible material of the corridor move around them, but after walking for ten minutes, the team members grew accustomed to the sensation. The Walkway seemed to have no end, but they pressed on with little conversation.
Although they all wore their suits, and would be fully protected from the vacuum of space should the corridor break, it was still somewhat disconcerting to have that as a possibility. As such, there was a safety harness between all the team members, so if that should happen, the other members of the group might act as a counter-weight to stop anyone flying out into space. The rock climbers of old had observed the same method of tethering themselves to one another. Should one person fall, the others would hold him or her up. Stop them from falling to their deaths.
It was no wonder conversation was scarce until they neared the far end of the Walkway. Finally, the airlock came into view and the tension dissipated.
"Don't everyone relax just yet," Jessica said over her helmet comm. system. "The real work's about to start. This was just the preliminary mission."
Then they reached the airlock proper.
*
The Enigma's airlock was perfectly circular, a perfect round hole in the vessel's black hull rimmed with some kind of shiny alloy. Remarkably, the almost mirrored metal seemed unscathed by exposure to space. It looked pristine.
There was a heavy circular door at its centre, yet no visible way of opening it. Nothing that resembled a computer input, or a manual control. Just the nondescript airlock and the shiny metal that encircled it.
"I don't get it," Olivia Rayne said. The Walkway widened significantly as it neared the docking collar, enough to permit three of the team members to stand side-by-side. "No controls. No way to open it."
Jessica clucked her tongue. "At least, nothing immediately apparent."
She ran her gloved hand around the polished metal and at her touch, coloured lights appeared either within or below the metal itself.
"Oh," Dr. Gentry said. "Most fascinating."
Jessica made a sweep of the entire, shiny metal circle with her hand. The lights – eighteen of them in total – did not appear the entire circumference, but at specific points. And as the rest of the team crowded around to watch, it became apparent the lights were much more than illumination. They were symbols, though of a kind none of them had seen before.
"What now?" Rayne asked.
"Well . . ." Jessica said. She pressed a finger against one of the symbols and it flashed. She proceeded to push them all, one after the other. "Sometimes you just have to push every button."
"A most unscientific –" Dr. Gentry started to say. His eyebrows rose in surprise as the airlock started to open. The door retracted into the hull of the Enigma. "Well . . ."
Captain King stepped forward and aimed her head torch into the gaping darkness within the giant structure. There was little to see but a kind of decking. As powerful as the torch was, it didn't illuminate anything. Barely penetrated the gloom before them.
Jessica turned back to the others.
"I know it's customary for a speech at this point," she said. "And now I wish I'd prepared one. But I didn't. So how about we get inside and see what's in there?"
"Sounds good to me," Lieutenant Jackson said.
"Defiant, are you listening?"
"Affirmative, Captain," Commander Greene said on the other end.
"We're going in, Commander."
"Good luck."
And with that, Captain Jessica King of the starship Defiant became the first human to step foot within the Enigma.
23.
As it turned out, they were only within the airlock itself. It was big enough to hold them all. The ingenuity of the Enigma's design made itself instantly apparent. They realised that the same decking they'd taken to be the floor was in fact on every surface, for what was up and down? The Enigma's builders had provided a chamber shaped like a hexagon to provide numerous surfaces on which they could walk. Every wall was also the floor and the ceiling. A very weak gravity helped them walk on the otherwise slippery surface.
"That's an inner lock," Lieutenant Belcher said, approaching a door entirely similar to that which they'd just stepped through. I'd assume that after that, we'll encounter some kind of atmosphere."
"Doctor? Would you care to give it a try?" Jessica asked Dr. Gentry.
The older man grinned. "Yes!"
He bounded forward and copied her own actions from moments before. The lit symbols appeared again around the door, and the Doctor proceeded to press each one in turn.
The inner lock opened, much the same as the one on the hull had.
"Doctor?" Jessica said. She held out an open hand. "After you."
24.
"They have breached the Enigma, sir," Ensign Roland Beaumont reported from the science station. "Teams entering the first centrifuge now."
Commander Greene nodded. "Excellent. Keep me apprised."
*
The inner airlock was much like the first, but smaller. When the last of them had stepped through it, the door shut behind them.
Lights flashed around them from within the hexagonal walls.
"Readings?" King asked.
Dr. Gentry checked his scanner. "I'm reading atmosphere. Pressure rising. It's thin at the moment, but breathable."
"Interesting," she said. "So the Namar breathed an Oxygen-Nitrogen atmosphere the same as us?"
"It would appear so. In a moment, I predict this chamber will be fully pressurised," Gentry said.
And he was right. With its equalisation sequence complete, the lights all came on at once around them, revealing another door at the other end.
Jessica looked to Commander Chang. "Would you like the honour, Commander?"
"Well," Chang said, a big smile on her face. "If the offer's there . . ."
Jessica noted the way Chang looked at Olivia Rayne. The shine in their eyes.
The Commander worked the mysterious controls of the airlock, manipulating the lit symbols just as she and Dr. Gentry had before.
"Oh . . ."
There was nothing but darkness on the other side. They all stepped through the open hatch one-by-one, their lights barely touching the black nothing before them.
"No power, do you think?" Chang asked.
Before Captain King could answer, the world was filled with blinding light as the sun came up within Enigma.
25.
An entire world on the inside of a barrel, Jessica thought, once her eyes became accustomed to the brilliance of the Enigma's lights. They were situated directly opposite, on the end of stems. There were three of them, and each was so bright it hurt to stare directly into them.
But beyond the adjustment from night eyes to normal vision, it was what was in front of them that took getting used to. The team stood on a large platform, following the same hexagonal shape. They could have exited on any side, and still found themselves on a flat surface looking down on the strangest landscape ever conceived.
The inside of the cylinder was lined with habitat. On a planet, or any spherical body, the surface formed an unending curve down. Here in the Enigma, the surface curved up over their heads. And while they had no sensation of the cylinder's momentum, since they stood within it, they were aware that the centrifugal force of the Enigma's spin was keeping everything pinned to the inner wall with gravity equivalent to Earth's.
"This is . . . most unexpected," Dr. Gentry said.
"You can say that again," Lieutenant Jackson said. "I keep looking up, expecting it all to fall down around us."
"It won't," Dr. Gentry said, and made a brief explanation of the forces involved.
Jessica couldn't look away. A grey coloured floor lined the entire habitat, with what looked like simple metal huts or houses, and scattered among them, larger buildings. She spotted no greenery at all. Nothing living.
However, she did see mist beginning to line the floor below them, in the habitat.
"Doctor Gentry, I see something like mist? Down there. What temperature are we reading?"
"It was below zero when we entered, but now climbing past zero," he announced. "What you're seeing is probably ice crystals vaporising. They no doubt formed in the dark, cold, sleep of this vessel."
"Strange that you should refer to it as sleep," Chang said.
"Why not? Have we not awoken it from some kind of slumber?" Gentry replied, pointing to the suns in front of them.
It, Jessica thought. Or them . . .
*
Chang peered over the edge of where they stood. There was a drop of hundreds of feet to the monochrome surface of the habitat. She stepped back warily.
"Quite a way up, aren't we?" she asked.
"This reminds me," Gentry said. He looked around for something, obviously couldn't find it, then searched his utility belt. He settled for a small wrench.
"Doctor, what are you doing?" King asked him.
"Demonstrating an interesting effect of the cylinder, Captain," he said and threw the miniature wrench out into the open air. It should have fallen over the side and clattered on the ground below. However it didn't. The wrench spun out into mid-air and continued to travel until it ran out of momentum, slowed by the drag of the air. Then, as they watched, it began a slow fall toward the surface. It would take a while, but it would fall down. Mother Nature would make sure of that.
"The gravity is stronger down there than up here," Dr. Gentry said. "A vessel like the Defiant has a form of artificial gravity holding everything in place. The Enigma works on a different principle. It uses force to do the same job. However, where we are, standing on the very axis, the gravitational force is not in effect. It's only due to the adaptive soles of our space suits that we are able to walk around without floating off."
"Well spotted," King said. "Now we should see about –"
Gentry stopped her in her tracks as he began removing his helmet.
"What're you doing!?" she yelled, rushing forward to stop him. But before she could get there, the older man had already finished the job. His helmet was off and tucked under his arm. He sniffed the ozone.
"The air is cool, but old. Stale. It smells like a tomb in here."
"Doctor, I'd prefer it if you didn't take such risks," Jessica said. "The air could have been poisonous for all you knew . . ."
He didn't seem to hear her as he filled his lungs with ancient air. And minutes later, once they'd made sure that Dr. Gentry was not about to drop down dead, they all followed suit.
Even the Captain.
*
"So there must be a way of getting down," Jessica said.
"Over here!" Lieutenant Jackson called. They all walked to his location at the edge of the platform. He knelt on the floor, examining a wide circle embossed on the decking. "What d'you suppose this is?"
Jessica got down on her knee and ran her hand over the marking there. Immediately, at the touch of her fingertips, the same glowing symbols they'd observed on the airlocks appeared. She looked up at the Lieutenant. "There's our answer, Jackson."
"Aye," he said and watched as the Captain activated all of the symbols in turn. The two of them stepped back as the circle of metal rose from the decking in a round column until it stood over them at a height of three metres or more.
"Wow."
It was featureless save for a hexagonal embossed area on its front face, and it had risen from the floor without a sound.
Dr. Gentry stepped forward, pressed his hand against it. The hexagon showed itself to be a door, and swung inward. Within the column were dim lights.
"What is it?" Rayne asked.
"An elevator," Gentry said. "I'd bet my hat on it."
"Well, there's only one way to find out," Jessica said. She was first to step inside. "After all, they must have had some way of getting down there. Shall we?"
26.
C-1, or the habitat as some of them came to refer to it, was a bleak and somewhat boring landscape. Entirely devoid not only of life signs, but imaginative design.
"It's as if an entire world has been built, purely to function," Dr. Gentry said. "Designed, and made, for purpose. No flair. No spedazzle!"
"No colour," Jessica said.
"Exactly," Gentry agreed. "Completely dull and utilitarian. I've never seen anything like it. Even on a starship, or a starbase, there is some whimsical feature. Some part of its design that links it to the designer. However, here I find nothing extraneous."
"Fan out into your teams," Jessica ordered. "And I want one member of each team with a firearm at the ready. We still don't know what we're dealing with."
They broke up and spread out. She instructed them to rejoin by the elevator one hour later and to remain in contact the whole time.
"A surprise may present itself at any time," she warned them. But Jessica King had no cause for concern. There would be no surprises yet. C-1 was a habitat built for thousands of inhabitants – but not one of the teams found any evidence of present, or former, occupation.
For all intents and purposes, the Enigma looked brand new inside. Which then posed the obvious question: If no-one had ever lived here, who had it been built for? Was it still, all these years later, awaiting its crew?
The Enigma was a miracle of engineering, and must have taken untold resources to construct. And yet . . . here it was, abandoned.
Who had been meant to live there, and why hadn't they yet? Why was the Enigma, a lifeless world all its own, left to orbit a similarly dead planet?
It didn't make sense.
27.
Captain’s Personal Journal
External log
Standard Ship Time
It’s been several hours since we reached the centrifuge. And as noted before, from what we observed of the Enigma's outer hull, there would appear to be three separate sections. The vessel's constant spin creates a perfect one gee environment, with the inner walls of the centrifuge for the ground. There is air, but it is old, stale. And there is some kind of weather system in here, too, that's just starting to develop.
The Enigma is a world in a barrel.
Moments after entering the habitat we've dubbed C-1, it was as if someone flicked a switch. Almost certainly an autonomous action – unless there really is something, or someone, watching. The lights came on. They protrude from a series of rods at the far end of this centrifuge, and give the equivalent of sunlight. The temperature rose from below freezing to a comfortable level within an hour. Considering the fact the Enigma has been dormant for a thousand years, it's quite incredible.
As for C-1 itself? Well, there is no plant life for a start. It was definitely intended as a living area, and could probably have a hundred thousand people living in it at any one time. So far, we've not spotted any sign of current habitation. There is a kind of rough, stone-like material on the deck. And what can only be described as houses, constructed from thin sheets of metal. They seem intended to house no more than two people at a time, and given the number of them I'd say that's probably about right. There are narrow roads running through them, and we noted several areas that seem to be intended as supply sites – these structures are much larger than the others.
Doctor Gentry suggested they could be religious sites, too.
Who knows?
I've ordered Team Two to remain here in C-1 and monitor any changes they find. The weather system in here could become significantly more active as the temperature continues to rise. I've also left a standing order that one of them remain armed at all times. Even if their weapon isn't out the whole time, someone on each team needs a gun handy. We can't be sure the Enigma is completely devoid of occupants. There are the other sections of the ship to explore yet. And you never know. Maybe I'm just an optimist, but a Namarian might just pop his or her head out at any time to say hello.
Surely, in the annals of space exploration, far stranger things have happened . . .
28.
Jessica did not relish the thought of a twenty kilometre stroll across C-1's bare, monochromatic landscape. Nor were Gary Belcher, Dana Oriz, Olivia Rayne or Selena Walker.
Lieutenant Jackson, on the other hand, seemed to relish the thought of some good physical exercise.
I'm doing well on these new meds, Jessica thought. But Christ, I don't want to push it.
A hike across the whole length of C-1 was not a bucket list objective for her, not yet. Sure, that kind of activity would hopefully be a drop in the ocean for her soon enough, but for now it was out of the question. Her legs wouldn't take it, and the others knew that to be the case. Her medical situation was no secret to the crew of the Defiant.
Luckily they were all spared a long walk – much to Jackson's disappointment. It just so happened that the Enigma not only had elevators to carry passengers from the airlocks to the cylinder surface, but also a kind of tram system. There were four of them, spaced around the circumference of C-1, and each seemed to head in the same direction, a kind of tunnel that, apparently, led into C-2 and beyond.
The trams were cylinders themselves, though the way you mounted and dismounted from them very much reminded Jessica of the trams she'd seen in old San Francisco years before. Though those restored antiques couldn't have held a torch against these svelte creations. They were attached to the Enigma by an impossibly thin track, and they had a short series of steps leading from the platform to the cylinder itself. Apart from their base, they were entirely constructed of tinted glass.
"An elegant design," Dr. Oriz noted as she climbed aboard. She helped Olivia Rayne up.
"More than you'd expect from a race of conquerors," Belcher said. "I'm impressed."
"Shall we?" Jessica asked. She eyed the few controls at the front of the craft. A series of three buttons, and below them a kind of touch pad. She pressed the pad first, and the doors to the tram whispered shut. "Thought so."
She then pressed the middle button, guessing that each signified a third of the cylinder. They had to be in the first one now, seeing as they were at the very front of the ship. The cylindrical tram began to move, steadily gaining speed – though without any real sense of motion. The craft seemed to glide on thin air as it tore across the minimalist terrain of C-1 and bore them steadily toward the tunnel ahead.
"Fascinating," Selena Walker said.
They passed beneath the structure at the other end of C-1, the supports holding the massive suns. Jessica glanced up through the transparent canopy, in awe of the sheer size and scope of the Enigma in almost every way.
It reminded her of the pyramids and sphinxes of Egypt, back on Earth. The way those giant stone monoliths had been left, the calling card of a once great people.
The Enigma seemed to be like that. A technological achievement unsurpassed by anything they'd ever seen. Just the sheer scope of the Enigma made her head hurt. As they entered the darkness of the tunnel, she had to wonder once more about the purpose of the giant ship. The notion that it might be a gigantic Trojan horse had occurred to her more than once. With the tram speeding them to C-2, an as-yet unseen section of the ship, she was glad for the firearm on her hip, if only for the comfort of knowing it was there.
29.
Soft lighting filled the cabin of the tram as it travelled in the darkness of the tunnel.
"So we can simply move from C-1 to C-2 without having to operate an airlock," Olivia Rayne said. "Makes things a bit easier."
"Well, I'd imagine this tunnel can be sealed off from the rest of the ship when necessary," Belcher said.
"I agree. After all, the cylinder's in three sections. It'd make sense to have them capable of being independent from one another," Jessica said.
"Yes," Belcher agreed. "Though I wonder why they'd take that approach."
"What do you mean?" Olivia asked.
The engineer sat forward. "Why compromise the integrity of the vessel by doing that? The Namar must have had a reason, but I can't for the life of me think what it could be."
Jessica contacted Defiant. "Captain here. We're en route to C-2 and should be there in a few minutes. Stay in contact with Team Two."
"Understood Captain."
"We'll update you on our progress," Jessica told the officer on the other end. She didn't recognise the voice. "Has there been any change in the Enigma since we've come aboard?"
"None whatsoever, Captain."
"Readings?"
"No transmissions," the officer told her. "And we are holding our position relative to the Enigma, velocity and vector unchanged from before."
"Very well. Keep me updated. Captain out."
She glanced across at Dr. Oriz, who was watching her intently.
"Were you expecting our intrusion to wake the beast, Captain?" she asked.
Jessica smiled. "Something like that."
"I don't think we’re that lucky," Dana said. "For all intents and purposes, the Enigma seems dead. It's just been out here far too long."
"Are you saying we're in some kind of . . . tomb?" Rayne asked.
Dana sighed. "I believe so."
Captain King looked away, unconvinced. Something told her there would be answers to come. A gut instinct, and that she trusted above all else.
"Well, we'll soon see," she told them.
30.
Team Two chose a square kilometre of the habitat in C-1 to explore, but they did not split up. Commander Chang instead opted for the three of them to remain together, lest a surprise present itself.
And of course there was the issue of the weather . . .
"Feel that wind?" Chang asked.
Peter Davies nodded. "Yeah, I felt it pick up a moment ago. Odd."
"Where's it coming from, do you think? Some kind of air system?" Chang asked him.
"This habitat is heating up," Dr. Gentry explained. "And as it continues to reach optimum temperature, the air in here is going to get all stirred up."
"I see. Hence the wind. The ground is getting warmer, making the air rise," Chang said.
"Yes. Exactly. We'll likely see quite the storm in here soon," Gentry said in a matter-of-fact tone of voice. "Something reminiscent of the tropics, I'd imagine. I love a good storm, myself."
Chang hit her comm. "Defiant, are you listening to this?"
"Yes. We hear you."
"We will notify you if we are about to find shelter. This may cause disruption to our comm. systems, and inhibit contact with you."
"Copy that, Commander," the reply came.
"Chang out," she said and closed the channel. Chang turned to the other two. "Let's see what we can find before the weather picks up."
"We should consider one of these buildings as a suitable shelter," Davies said. "They look strong enough."
Dr. Gentry held up his hands in a defenceless gesture. "I'm not saying this storm will last long. Maybe an hour. It won't take much time for the weather system in here to settle. For all we know, the Enigma has systems that will deal with it."
"True," Chang said. "They've certainly thought of everything else."
Peter Davies stood, regarding one of the larger structures they'd noted were situated here and there throughout the habitat. "So, you think these might be some kind of religious sites, Doctor?"
Dr. Gentry came to stand nearby and looked up at the big metal box. "Could be. My line of thought was that we have not seen any sign of vegetation. No agricultural area. Hell, not even a hydroponics site. This habitat is as sterile as any I've ever seen."
"True," Davies said.
"So I think the Namar must have had their food and water supplied directly in their homes. I can't think of anything else to call them. They are, after all, quite obviously designed with two occupants in mind."
"You think they had couples living together? Men and women?" Chang asked.
Gentry shrugged. "Why not? For that matter, who's to say it wasn't homosexual couples? Whatever the case, there were two in each one. And I believe that if we really looked – and knew what we were looking for – we would find a food and water source."
Chang looked around at the strange world they'd found themselves exploring. A circular world, where the sky was the ground and the ground the sky. "So they didn't just sleep here. They lived here. This was intended as a home from home."
"Precisely. This is why I believe they would have also brought with them whatever religious belief their society acknowledged."
"You're saying these are churches?" Davies asked.
Gentry led the way inside. Behind him, Commander Chang un-holstered her sidearm and turned off the safety. Her caution proved to be unfounded as the building was completely empty . . . of anything. For all intents and purposes it was merely an empty box. A metal shell with nothing in it except a light source in the ceiling, and a weak one at that.
"Perhaps you're right," she said.
Dr. Gentry waved his arms about to indicate the empty space around them. "No seats. Nothing here. Apart from this slightly elevated platform at one end. Not unlike the chancel where a minister might address his flock, no?"
"I agree," Peter Davies said. "And it feels somehow different in here, don't you think?"
"Churches always do," Gentry said.
Chang almost shivered. "Let's continue."
They investigated several homes, and found each one of them as empty as the rest. It should have put her mind at ease, knowing that they were alone in there. But it didn't. All Chang could think about was how eerily deserted the place was. How much like a ghost town it was to her.
And how such an empty world made the hairs stand up on the back of her neck.
Her apprehension was broken, however, when the first crack of lightning erupted over their heads.
Dr. Gentry ducked reflexively. "WHOA! That was close!"
The wind rushed up at them, and Chang noticed for the first time that while they'd been poking about, clouds had formed in the air above.
"Let's get under shelter. I think we're going to experience some of that bad weather you were talking about," she said.
They made for the closest Namarian house, and just in the nick of time. The sky opened up after them, and it began to rain in C-1.
31.
They disembarked from the tram. It had exited the tunnel, only to come to a full stop amid the pitch black. Regardless they filed out, finding themselves on the same nondescript decking they'd found in C-1.
"Again, the air in here smells old," Jessica said.
Smell of a tomb, she didn't add. Dr. Oriz would take great joy in thinking the Captain approved of her notion that the Enigma was some kind of tomb. She personally didn't believe that to be the case at all. After all, why put it here? Why expend so much of their – at the time – very limited resources in building the Enigma only to leave it to the unpredictable extremities of space?
There had to be something here.
"And it's cold in here," Selena Walker said. "If we weren't wearing our suits, we'd be frozen right now."
"Makes me wish I'd brought my helmet and not left it in C-1," Rayne said. "I think my lips are blue."
Captain King's comm. system beeped. She answered it.
"Captain! It's Commander Chang!" the voice on the other end yelled.
"I hear you, Commander. What's wrong? What's that noise?"
There was a loud, almost drumming noise accompanying Chang's voice. It made it hard to hear her.
"Hail!"
King looked up at the others, a frown on her face. "Sorry?"
"Captain, it's hail! We're experiencing some kind of storm in here. We've taken shelter."
"I -- I see, Commander. Very well. Remain there until it subsides. Keep me posted."
"Yes Captain."
The line cut off.
"Hail! Who'd have thought it?" Rayne said in a near laugh.
Jessica nodded slowly. "This place is full of surprises."
There was a dim illumination from the parked tram, but apart from that an unknown darkness that surrounded them.
"Captain, we should probably consider the possibility that the Enigma is a collection of three habitat cylinders," Walker offered. "It would make sense, if it was intended for a vast number of people to live on."
"True, but –" Jessica started to say but she did not get any further. For right then the lights came on in C-2, momentarily blinding them all.
Once his eyes had adjusted, Gary Belcher was the first to look around.
"Uh, I don't think we're in a habitat exactly," he said.
Lieutenant Jackson was the next to find that his eyesight had returned. "In the name of . . ." he managed to mumble as he gazed at what was there before them.
32.
Just as Captain King had said, the Enigma was full of surprises.
A giant axle ran through the middle of C-2, at least half a kilometre thick. Along its length were lights similar in design to those in C-1, but very small. Due to that, there were a great number of them all over the giant axle, and they reminded Jessica somewhat of Christmas tree lights. Every conceivable inch of surface area within the cylinder seemed to be covered in some form of tech or other. There were what could only be star fighters. Even two ships about half the size of the Defiant nestled amongst the fighters and weaponry.
"This is no generation ship," Selena Walker said as she gazed up. "And it isn't a simple habitat, either."
"No," Jessica said. "This is a ship of war."
*
"I can't believe it," Belcher said. "So much tech in here. It'll take an age just to go through it."
"I don't think we have that long, Mister, but I'll try," Jessica said, opening a channel with the Defiant. "This is the Captain. Please have the Defiant on standby. We have discovered a vast array of weaponry in here and are about to catalogue what we can."
"Understood, Captain," the voice on the other end answered.
"If you see any change whatsoever in the Enigma, notify me. Captain out."
Jessica closed the channel.
*
The rain and hail ceased. No sooner than it had begun, the severe weather had stopped. When Chang, Davies and Dr. Gentry stepped outside, they found it wet but warm. The clouds had dissipated to a thin, wispy layer of strata. The thunder and lightning had gone, too.
"It was as if the ship cleared its throat after being woken up after so long," Davies said.
Dr. Gentry laughed. "Yes! That's it! The mighty giant wakes, stretches, has a good cough. Now all is well."
Chang detected movement to her left. Her head snapped about, her hand simultaneously grabbing for the gun in its holster. "Quiet," she ordered.
The other two followed her line of sight. There was definitely something moving out there, about twenty metres away.
"What is it?" Davies whispered.
"Stay here," Chang said and she edged forward. Using the houses as cover, she made her way forward. There it was again. Directly ahead. A rush of something grey, so fast it was a near blur. A now she could hear it, too. A clitter-clatter sound on the wet stone floor.
She thumbed her sidearm off of safety and held it in front of her, at the ready. The sound again. The clitter-clatter of claws. Big heavy claws. Chang tried to shake the image, but it wouldn't go. She pictured some atrocity awaiting her. Her heart thudded in her ears and she swallowed, her throat dry as dust.
Chang silently stepped out from behind one of the houses and found herself less than six feet away from it. She gripped the gun with both hands, the barrel aimed directly at it.
The creature turned to look at her, its eyes on stalks that wavered left and right. The round black eyes at the ends twitched hideously. It studied her for several seconds, then scuttled away, seemingly uninterested. Chang opened a comm. channel to the Captain and tried not to let the nerves make her voice sound shaky as she reported what they'd found.
33.
"Life?" King asked on the other end.
"Yes Captain. I'm going to relay visual back to the Defiant. It looks like a scorpion. Dull grey in colour. About a metre tall, six legs, with kind of hooked feet. Two clawed arms at the front," Chang said.
"Has it seen you?"
"Yes. It looked at me, then disregarded my presence. I wonder if it's decided I'm not a threat," Chang told her. "Though at the time I did have my sidearm pointed at it."
"Understandably so," King said. "Where is it now?"
"Moving away. I'm following, but at a distance."
"Good. Commander, ensure you have Doctor Gentry and Mister Davies there with you. Stay together. There are probably more."
"Yes Captain, I'll signal them to meet me now."
"See what you can find out, Commander. And make sure you include all of us in your feed to the Defiant. One other thing," King said. "You said it resembles a scorpion. Well, from what you've described so far it sounds more like a lobster than anything else."
"Oh yes, indeed, very much like a lobster," Chang explained. "It's the giant pincer on the back end that makes it look like a scorpion."
"I see. A weapon of some kind?"
"I don't believe so," Chang said. "I think it's more of an appendage. A third arm."
"Okay, Commander. Get that feed up so we can see it for ourselves. And if you need any of us in there, just give the word and we'll be with you on the double."
Chang closed the channel, then signalled both Dr. Gentry and Peter Davies. "Boys, you need to get here fast. We have contact."
34.
The video feed streamed simultaneously from Commander Chang's unit to the Defiant, Team One and Team Three. Everyone on the Defiant's bridge watched as Chang approached the grey creature she'd dubbed a "scorpion." It sensed her presence, stopped and turned to face her. Chang rummaged in her pack for a ration. She pulled out a packet of crackers, broke one in half and tossed it at the ground in front of the scorpion. It's eyes lowered on their stems to look at the food, then it picked the half cracker up with one pincer. For such a big appendage, its movements were swift and light. The cracker did not so much as crumble under the creature's grip. In a curious gesture, it lifted the cracker up to its eyes and looked it over before putting it to its mouth. Small teeth took a bite, but the cracker evidently wasn't appealing in any way.
It soon spat the mouthful of dry cracker out, put the rest back where it had found it, and continued on its way.
"As you can see," Chang said to the camera. "It's as if we aren't here. It's not interested."
Team Two followed the scorpion for more than ten minutes as it made its way through C-1, in a perfectly straight line. It ended up at a barely visible mark on the stone floor. As it drew close, the floor opened up to reveal a hatchway. The scorpion disappeared into it, and the hatch closed directly after.
Davies stepped forward, tapped a foot against the spot where there'd previously been a gaping hole. The hatch didn't budge. In fact it was so inconspicuous that no-one would have noticed it had they not seen it open just then.
"There is evidently some kind of network under the ground to facilitate these creatures," Dr. Gentry reasoned off camera. With something to occupy his mind, and ignite his curiosity, Gentry seemed calmer. More stable than he had before.
"Whatever they are," Chang said.
Davies looked up and pointed off to the left. "Look! Another two."
About fifty metres away, two of the scorpions were scaling one of the box houses. Chang zoomed in. "They look like they're testing the structure somehow."
"Yes, that would make sense," Dr. Gentry said.
"What d'you mean?" Davies asked.
Gentry smiled. "Have you not worked it out yet? They are not a part of this vessel's defences, else they would have attacked us by now. No, they are something far different."
"And what's that?" Chang asked.
"Maintenance."
35.
"You're sure it won't be seen as hostile, Doctor? Captain King asked Gentry after she'd ridden back to C-1 on the tram.
Dr. Gentry shook his head. "I'm certain that whatever controls have released these beings into C-1 has no more intelligence than a calculator. It's an automated system. The habitat has been revived, the weather permutations have settled into a nice rhythm . . . it's another part of the Enigma coming back to life. The scorpion creatures are just another stage."
"Well, if you're certain. I don't want to instigate something we'll regret later," she told him.
It had been Dr. Gentry's idea to trap one of the scorpions somehow and have it taken aboard the Defiant for study. Commander Chang hadn't been convinced, however, and Jessica had travelled back to C-1 along with Dana Oriz specifically to iron it out with Dr. Gentry.
"I agree with Dr. Gentry," Dana told her. "There's nothing intelligent about any of this. Whatever these things are, they're more or less automated. Or have very limited awareness. They're on this ship to do a specific job and I think that's it."
"But," Gentry said, one finger upheld in front of him like an exclamation point. "Examining them could answer a lot of questions for us, and provide a unique insight into the Namar themselves."
Jessica weighed the options, then gave her consent. "I take full responsibility for this. Do it. But try and get it onto the Defiant alive."
"We'll do our best, Captain," Chang said.
36.
Back on Earth, centuries before, it had been called a lasso. And the knot Lieutenant Jackson tied was not much different to what the cowboys of humanity's childhood would have used. However he'd been taught how to tie it on one of the frontier worlds, back on the dusty colony he'd come from.
A lot of the Union's finest came from the hind end of space. Young men and women eager to make their mark. Serve a greater good.
Captain Jessica King thought about the way she'd been taken as a simple orphan and moulded into command material. Little had she known at the time that the very man doing the moulding was in fact her real Father.
She watched Jackson approach one of the scorpions, turning the cord hoop over his head like a helicopter blade.
"Who taught you, Lieutenant?" Jessica asked him.
Jackson kept his attention focused on the scorpion, gradually creeping closer and closer, all the while getting ready to throw the cord and snare it. "My Dad," he said over his shoulder.
Makes sense, she thought to herself. I learned a lot from mine.
Her thoughts briefly skipped to her Mother. The woman who'd brought her into the world, whom she'd never met. After watching the video her alternate had recorded for her, informing her about the fact Captain Singh had in fact been her biological Father. And telling her about Hawk/Dollar, the steadily developing psychosis of Swogger . . . after all that, she sat back and contemplated all she'd been told. It occurred to her that not even her other self had known anything about their Mother. Alt-Jessica hadn't so much as mentioned her.
According to her birth certificate, kept on the Union database, her Mother had died in childbirth.
It seemed strange to her that she'd always thought herself an orphan, but that hadn't been the case. She'd been in the company of her Father the whole time and didn't know it. How might she have acted if she'd known the truth? Would it have changed her relationship with Andrew Singh?
Probably.
Now, she truly was an orphan. The offspring of dead parents. One she'd known, and called friend. As for Mother . . . she didn't even know her name.
This is my family, she thought. Always has been. And now I'm the parent.
Jackson made his move on the unsuspecting scorpion. The lasso slipped free, landed neatly over the tail of the creature, then the Lieutenant gave the cord a swift yank. The knot tightened, the cord caught against the scorpion's tail, and it slid along the floor. It's eyes swivelled about to get a look at its captor.
"Careful, Lieutenant," Chang said. She stood close by, visibly tense at what was taking place. Jessica got the impression the Commander didn't fully agree with it.
That was fine. Not all of her orders were part of some democratic process of agreement and rejection. It was actually quite liberating, being the Captain.
She didn't have to answer for herself. They had to trust that she would make the right, informed call. And she usually did.
"Now what?" Jackson asked. He was reeling the scorpion in towards him. Its legs scraped along the stone-like floor as it tried to escape. Its claws attempted to grip the cord. "It'll get loose!"
"Bag it," Jessica told Chang. The Commander got close, a sack from their survival pack open and at the ready. Jackson steered the creature close to the waiting sack, and Chang bagged the animal.
The scorpion struggled for several seconds, thrashing within the sack. Chang closed it up, and stepped back. The scorpion continued to fight, the sack jittering about on the floor.
"This isn't going to work," King said.
Dr. Gentry stepped forward. "Commander, open the bag, would you?"
Chang looked from Gentry to Jessica. The Captain nodded her consent.
Chang opened the sack, and the scorpion scuttled backwards out of it.
Dr. Gentry swiftly pulled Chang's sidearm from her holster and before any of them could stop him from doing so, he aimed the gun at the scorpion's head and fired.
*
"My God!" Dana shouted in surprise as the shot echoed in C-1.
Lieutenant Jackson had Dr. Gentry on the floor in seconds. It took Jessica to yell at Jackson for him to ease up and get off of the Doctor.
"Lieutenant! Back off! Come on," she ordered. "Calm down!"
Davies walked Jackson away from the situation so he could calm down as Jessica dealt with Dr. Gentry. As the older man got to his feet, dusting himself off, Captain King grabbed him and got in his face.
"If you EVER try something like that again, I will have you locked in the brig till we return to Starbase 6. Do you hear me?"
Gentry nodded. "It had to be done, Captain. I saw no other course of action."
She let him go, turned to Commander Chang. "Get it in the bag, and call through for someone to come collect it from the airlock."
"Aye," Chang said.
"As for you, Doctor," Jessica said, facing Gentry again. "Consider yourself warned. Next time I won't get Jackson to back off."
"I -- I -- understand. I'm sorry," Gentry said, back to the stammering misfit he'd been before. As much as they'd been shocked by his action, the Doctor himself looked shaken by the way he'd been pinned to the ground.
Jessica turned and left for C-2 along with Lieutenant Jackson and Dana Oriz, eager not to have to look at him any longer – at least until she'd calmed down a bit herself.
*
Selena Walker answered her comm. to be met with a familiar Texan drawl on the other end.
"Guess who, sweetheart?"
She rolled her eyes. "Oh, I don't know. Who could it be? Who else aboard the Defiant sounds like a mock cattle rustler?"
"Ouch, darlin'. You really know how to kick a guy where it hurts."
Selena smiled. "One of my specialities. Nut cracking."
"Maybe you can demonstrate some time . . ." Dollar said.
"Get off the air!" she said and broke into laughter. "Anyway, what're you after?"
She walked away from the others so she could get some privacy. Though they couldn't hear Dollar on the other end, they could hear her responses. Already, there'd been a few raised eyebrows at her mention of cracking nuts.
"Do I have to be after somethin' just to hear yuh angelic voice?"
"You old smoothie," she said.
"Thanks," Dollar said. "Just thought I'd check, see if yer okay."
"Yes. I'm all right. We had a bit of drama over here a couple of minutes ago, but nothing too interesting. The Captain dealt with it," Selena told him.
"Whoever it was, I feel sorry for 'em if the Cap got involved," Dollar said, followed by a high pitched whistle that made her ears ring. "I was on my way down to the hangar . . ."
"To work on your baby," she said matter-of-factly.
"Her name's Dragonfly," Dollar corrected her. "And I've nearly got her done."
"Good. I hope you'll take me on a ride when I get back," Selena said.
Dollar sighed on the other end. "I hate bein' apart."
"We're not. Don't go soppy on me. I'll be back soon. In the meantime, you'll just have to . . . play with your spanner," she quipped.
Dollar laughed. "That's what I love about yuh, darlin', you got sass."
"If I keep eating your southern food, I'll end up with a whole lotta ass. Now I'm ending this before it goes too far," Selena said, mid-laughter. "I love you."
"Love yuh too."
*
"Understood, Captain," Commander Greene said from the captain's chair. "We're monitoring Team Two. I'll let you know if Gentry shows any sign of acting out again."
"Good. How's the Defiant?"
"Same as before," Greene said. He turned at the sound of someone walking onto the bridge. It was the Chief, carrying two cups of coffee. "She's in good shape."
Now he wasn't so sure he was only talking about the ship . . .
"Okay. I'm sure she's in capable hands. Captain out."
Chief Meryl Gunn handed the Commander his coffee. "There you are. Thought you could use this."
"It's been a long shift," he admitted.
"Yeah and you should have had a rest hours ago. But you're not to be argued with. So the only option is caffeine."
Commander Greene threw a sly grin. "You trying to make me hyper?"
The Chief gave him a pat on the shoulder as she left the bridge. "Honey, you're always hyper. The coffee's to calm you down."
He watched her go, his eyes taking in the wiggle of her bottom in her overalls. Greene sipped his coffee. The woman was a temptress . . . that was for sure.
"Okay people, let's try simulating a coolant leak this time. See how you all fare," he ordered. They'd already completely twenty simulated scenarios. Anything to break the monotony.
"I'm loving these drills . . ." Banks said.
"Insubordination will result in a visit to engineering, Mister Banks," Greene warned him. "And believe you me, that woman does not take prisoners."
A couple of the bridge hands stifled a chuckle, but a cautionary glare from the Commander stopped the laughter dead in its tracks.
"Let's begin . . ."
37.
"So, what surface area are we looking at in here?" King asked.
Belcher looked at his surroundings in C-2. "It's exactly the same as the other two, by the looks of things. And I'm sure the readings from the probes made it that way too."
She nodded. "They did."
"Well," Belcher mumbled as he did some quick calculations on his tablet. "Roughly 7,500 square kilometres, give or take."
"Jeez," King gasped. "I never thought it'd be so much."
Gary Belcher smiled. "If you look at it from space, it's sixty kilometres long. That's goddamn huge. But it's not a flat piece of metal. It's a massive tube, if you will. And everything's lined along the inside wall. Twenty kilometres wide, sixty kilometres long . . . it makes for one big tin can."
Jessica shook her head as she took it all in. It was getting warmer in there now that they had light. 7,500 square kilometres of floor space in C-2, most of it crammed with ships and huge crates no doubt containing every kind of weapon the Namar had ever conceived.
There were four gigantic ships, at least a kilometre long each. And fleets of what looked like fighters.
"This truly boggles the brain," Jessica said. "And it makes it perfectly clear to me that this is not simply a ship intended for passengers. But a carrier for an entire war fleet. Now that's a worry."
38.
They looked again at the immense axles that seemed to run through the Enigma like a spine, with C-1 and C-3 on either end.
"So how do you suppose the fleet gets out of here?" Rayne asked.
Belcher shrugged. "Dunno. But if I were to design this thing, I'd have C-1 and C-3 come away from C-2 on this axle."
"So basically, you're saying you'd have the Enigma open up on either end, separating where the joins are," Jessica said.
"Exactly. And that's more than likely how it works. Think about it. All three cylinders are more or less self contained, with full airlocks and seals," Belcher explained. He opened his arms to indicate the entirety of C-2. "This is basically one big hangar deck."
"I'm with you. Do you think you can get inside one of these bigger ships?" Jessica asked.
He shook his head. "I wouldn't have thought so. And I'm not even sure it'd be worth trying. How would you decipher the controls? Let alone get the Enigma to split apart so you could fly one out of here."
"Understood," she said. "Anyway, have a closer look and see what you can learn about them. The fighters too. It might help in some way."
"Aye," Belcher said.
39.
Jessica watched Gary Belcher walk over to one of the fighter craft, and felt her legs begin to sag under her. She grabbed the closest thing to her, to keep from falling on her behind – and it just so happened to be the arm of Dana Oriz.
"Are you okay, Captain?"
She nodded, tried to brush it off. "Fine. Just a little . . . tired."
"Here. Sit. Have a ration."
"No, no, no, don't worry. It's nothing," she said.
But Dana insisted. She made the Captain sit on the floor and rest while she dug rations out of her own pack. She handed Jessica a dehydrated protein bar, some chocolate, and an energy drink. "Eat the chocolate first, Captain."
"You always have the best first and the worst last, Dana?" Jessica asked a little groggily as she tore the chocolate bar open and proceeded to eat.
"Only way to have it," Dana said.
"Oh, that is good though," Jessica said. She took a few swallows of the energy drink.
Dana crouched in front of her. "I know you have your . . . condition. But I think this is more like fatigue than anything else. Obviously it affects you differently than others."
"I thought I left the quack on the ship . . ." King said with a laugh.
"I'm just saying," Dana said, laughing herself. "As long as you're all right."
"I will be, Dana. I will be. Like you say, I'm just tired," she admitted. "Doctor Clayton has me on new medication."
"He does?" Dana asked. "How's that working?"
"Fine so far. I think this is some kind of side effect of it," King told her. "But it's the only one I've had."
"Good. It must be working, though. I mean, we've done a lot of walking today," Dana said.
Jessica nodded. "Yes. And thank the maker for these trams, or we would have done more."
Ten minutes later, Dana stood back as Jessica got up on her feet. She looked better. Her colour had returned, she didn't look so washed out and pale.
"How're you feeling now?"
"Like a twenty-one-year-old again," Jessica said with a smirk.
Dana shouldered her pack. "Then I'll have whatever you're having, Captain. Double dose."
*
"Stay in touch at all times," Jessica warned Olivia Rayne as she, Selena Walker and Lieutenant Jackson boarded one of the trams for C-3.
"We will," Rayne told her.
Jessica smiled. "Good luck, explorer."
She stepped away from the tram. The door closed and it began to move off. Olivia was still looking at her through the window as the tram sped away, out of sight. On toward yet another of the Enigma's mysteries . . .
40.
Captain’s Personal Journal
External Log
Standard Ship Time
Team Two have remained behind in C-1 to observe and record what they can. My own Team One will stay here in C-2 to catalogue what we find. There's certainly a lot to see. If C-1 is the living space, then this central section of the Enigma is the armoury. The sheer scale of everything . . . the amount of ships in here is unbelievable.
You realise all the more just how much the design of the Enigma is ingenious. The same centrifugal force is in effect here, holding everything to the walls. When you look up, it seems all that hardware is about to drop on your head. But you soon get used to it.
Just don't go looking for a sky, all you'll get is vertigo.
Team Three have pushed on to C-3. This isn't just a floating space station, or a living space. There were notions it could be a generational ship. And while that could still hold true, it is evident to me that the Enigma is a ship. A massive ship of unconventional design. Why build a great number of ships to carry thousands and thousands of people – disregarding all the ships in C-2 – when you can build just one to do the job. A big one. But then I've always preferred redundancies rather than putting all your eggs in one basket . . .
Historians say the Namar were legendary not only in their ruthlessness, but their ingenuity and I'm inclined to agree with them.
Doctor Gentry says that Team Three should find an energy reaction device, and something to do with the engine in there. I've told Olivia to maintain communication at all times. Here's hoping my instinct about her is right.
I sense more danger here than we thought. Something hidden. We can't get complacent in exploring this miniature world. I've a feeling it has teeth . . .
PART III
Pandora's Box
41.
The tram slowed to a halt. Just as with C-1 and C-2, it took a few moments for whatever sensors controlled the lights to detect their presence and illuminate their surroundings.
"Wow," Selena Walker said as she looked around at the revealed aft section of the Enigma. "I think we found our engines."
Neither Olivia Rayne or Mark Jackson could disagree with her. The last section of the Enigma was definitely the source of its power and drive.
"It's the same proportions and size as the other sections," Rayne said, looking down at her scanner. "However there is a significant energy signature coming from whatever that is in front of us."
Where there had hung sources of light in C-1 – replaced with strip lighting in both C-2 and C-3 – there was a huge structure built into the back end of the ship. There appeared to be access hatches into it, and all around the circumference of C-3 were what looked like nodes.
"They could be giant fuses for all we know," Jackson said.
"True," Rayne agreed. "And what about those six long outcroppings? The same?"
"Maybe," he said.
"Why don't we head for the big kahuna first? It's closest," Rayne said, nodding in the direction of what could only be the Enigma's drive.
"Sure," Selena said. She looked over her head. "I still can't get used to the sky being the ground, you know . . ."
Olivia laughed. "Yeah, I know what you mean. Try not to look up. Come on, let's get on over there and see what this thing runs on."
42.
Captain Jessica King nodded as Rayne told her what they were doing.
"Very well, just keep in contact."
"Yes Ma'am," Rayne said on the other end of the comm.
And stay safe, kiddo, Jessica thought but did not add.
*
It proved easy to access the huge building that jutted from the back end of the Enigma into C-3 like a giant skyscraper turned on its side. Team Three were in agreement in what name to give it: The Chrysler. As with moving from C-1 to C-2, it was made easy. There were no fussy airlock systems. Just hatches that opened and closed automatically. This again seemed to be a functional necessity. Possible crew moving from one end of the ship to the other did not need be bothered with one airlock after another. It certainly made it easy for the teams investigating the confines of the Enigma.
"That'll be the reactor, then," Jackson noted. The inside of the structure was actually built around a massive transparent tube. It glowed and crackled with energy, and there was a decidedly powerful vibration underfoot.
This must be how ants feel when they crawl on the skin of a giant, Rayne thought.
"But no way of knowing the kind of drive this thing has," Walker said.
"True," Rayne said. "But even if we could understand Namarian, I doubt we'd be able to make sense of it anyway."
Selena studied the shiny metal consoles that seemed to be located all around them. Not one showed a sign of dust, or wear, and again there was the impression that the Enigma was brand new, despite its age.
She used her scanner to make a sweep of the room. "Well, I'll see what we pick up anyway."
"Yes," Olivia said. "But it seems like a bit of a dead end, to be honest."
"Strangers in a strange land," Jackson said as he nosed about.
"What's that?" Rayne asked.
"Nothing," Jackson said and continued to look about. Olivia looked to Selena for an answer.
Selena just smiled. "It's nothing. I'll tell you later."
43.
Captain’s Personal Journal
External Log
Standard Ship Time
I'm headed back to the Defiant with Doctor Gentry and Peter Davies. I have asked Dana Oriz to remain on the Enigma, to work with Lisa Chang in C-1. Gary Belcher, meanwhile, I have sent to C-3 to give Olivia and her team a hand. Who better to send to what is obviously an engineering section than him? I don't think he was able to learn much from inspecting those ships up close. A shame.
I need to get back and rest. Although the drugs Doctor Clayton is administering to me are working – far better than either of us dared to hope, to be honest – I still suffer from some of the side effects of my condition. I tire easily, and today has been exhausting to say the least.
Still, I've asked Doctor Gentry to make a preliminary report of his findings and theories about the Enigma. It'll be interesting to see what he comes up with. As much as he annoyed me before, I still respect his wisdom. In a way, we're fortunate to have him aboard. But my warning still stands. I'll gladly lock him in irons myself he pulls a stunt like that again . . .
So far, for me, this ship is a kind of dead end. A frustrating experience. We've found no answer, only further questions. And if there is life aboard – or ever was – I've seen no evidence of it.
Both Chang and Oriz, along with Team Three, have elected to stay aboard the Enigma overnight. I applaud them on their dedication, and I can't fault their performance in any way. I'm sure they're all aware of the toll this excursion has taken on me, although I try not to show it. I can only hope the drugs one day eradicate the side effects of the MS completely . . .
In the meantime, Chang and Oriz continue to monitor the scorpion creatures they observed in the habitat. So far, they've not paid my people any attention whatsoever. I hope it stays that way. Doctor Gentry states they are like some kind of caretaker force, keeping everything neat and clean.
We'll see.
For now, I'm headed back. I still have the Walkway to journey across yet. And a brief checkin with Commander Greene before I hit the rack. That lumpy old bed in my quarters has never looked so appealing. I hope to hear Gentry's opinion on things when I wake . . .
44.
Team Three, now joined by Gary Belcher, were inside The Chrysler when the weather started up. As with C-1, the last cylinder had finally warmed enough to create a miniature weather system. And now, after hours of exploring the innards of The Chrysler, a storm had developed.
They stood inside one of the hatches, looking out at the windswept surface of C-3 as the bad weather had its own way for a few hours.
"Well, there's no way we can go out in that," Belcher said.
"No. We're in the best place," Jackson said.
Rayne contacted the Defiant.
"Greene here," the Commander said on the other end.
"This is Rayne. We're experiencing bad weather in here right now. We've taken shelter inside the structure containing the power source and engines."
She had so desperately wanted to say that they'd taken shelter inside The Chrysler, but knew the Commander would think she'd lost the plot.
"Very well, Lieutenant," he said. "Advise when it calms down in there. If it's anything like C-1 it won't last long."
"Understood, sir. Rayne out."
She closed the comm. channel and looked at the others.
"Now what?" Selena asked her.
"If you're all in agreement, I'd like to keep looking about," Rayne said.
The others agreed.
"Good. Selena, you pair up with Gary. I'll go with Mark. Let's see what we can find," Olivia told them. They fell into their two groups without fuss and split up to explore The Chrysler while outside, around them, a tempest thundered over the surface of C-3.
45.
Whether through fatigue, the drugs Dr. Clayton had given her, or just plain luck, it was by far the best sleep Jessica King had had in a long time. Her limbs ached, but more from the exercise of the day before than the MS. It felt good to get up, stand under the hot shower. Clean and refreshed, she made her way to the mess for some coffee and a blueberry muffin if the Chef had any luck.
"Ah, Captain, I thought you might be popping by," the Defiant's Chef said with a grin. He handed her a little saucer with a juicy muffin on it, covered in wrap.
"You don't know how good this looks," Jessica said.
The ship's head cook tilted his head. "All in a morning's work, Ma'am."
She collected her coffee and sat down. The steady heartbeat of the ship underfoot was reassuring and made her feel at home. In many ways the Defiant was her home. She'd spent the majority of her service aboard the old girl.
Jessica looked away toward one of the viewing ports. They gave a fine view of the Enigma, and beyond that, the murky colours of the planetoid NA-45.
She sipped her coffee, then headed for her meeting with Dr. Gentry to hear his probably wild ideas and theories.
*
"Shall we sit?" she asked him.
Dr. Gentry dropped into a chair near her. He swiped through several items of interest on his data tablet before beginning.
"Well . . ." he said, then appeared to get lost in thought.
"Doctor?"
He snapped to. "Sorry. I'm still trying to figure out how the computer beat me at Tajem last night. It's quite baffling. I don't know if Admiral Grimshaw told you, but I'm quite the Tajem champion. The Defiant's computer surprised me. It had a few tricks up its sleeve."
"Well, you know," King said. "She's something of an antique. You're probably not used to playing a lady of her age."
Dr. Gentry seemed to find this hilarious. He broke out in a mad cackle, the likes of which Jessica couldn't help joining in on. "I want to apologise for my actions on the Enigma, Captain. I didn't mean to undermine you, or startle the others."
"I know," Jessica explained. "But you have to understand I can't have that. Not a single weapon fires without my order first."
"Yes, of course. It was just that I could see no other way. And in any case, we would have had to kill the thing anyway to dissect it," Gentry said.
King couldn't argue with his logic, and yet it still bugged her what he'd done over there. Grabbing Chang's weapon like that, executing the scorpion.
"Have you had military experience in the past, Doctor? You seem to know how to handle a weapon," she said.
Gentry shrugged. "Some. I'd rather not discuss it, if you don't mind. I'm a different person now. I prefer to be a man of science than a man of war."
Jessica nodded her consent, but filed it away for future reference. She'd have to go through Gentry's file when she got the chance. Clearly it held more than Academia related endeavours . . .
"Anyway, about that thing out there," he said.
"Yes. Go on."
"There's been quite a few surprises. The most prescient seems to be the discovery of the creatures in C-1," Gentry said. "More than anything else, they indicate to me that the Enigma is not awaiting a crew but hiding one."
Jessica's eyebrows rose in surprise. "You think? It seems like a ghost ship to me. A very big ghost ship."
"She's big because she's intended to sustain an entire people. A colony," the Doctor explained. "Awaiting the day when they will re-populate the Namar and bring them back from extinction."
"That's what you think it is? An insurance policy against oblivion?" Jessica asked.
Dr. Gentry nodded in agreement. "Yes. Somewhere on that huge ship is a crew, I'm sure of it. If not a crew, then the means to make one. We know from history that the Namar dabbled with cybernetics, fusing machine and man into one being. There are countless reports of their unstoppable armies from long before the Draxx War."
"I know. I read the file on them. You really think they did that? Left this out here in the middle of nowhere in the hope no-one would stumble upon it?"
"It's feasible. At least it is to me. They were a powerful race, Captain. But they were dying. Their day had come and gone. I think the Enigma was their way of ensuring they got another one."
She took a few notes on her own data tablet.
Gentry folded his arms in front of his chest. "How much do you know about Galileo, Captain?" he asked.
Jessica shrugged. "Not that much, I'm afraid."
The scientist smiled. "That's perfectly fine. Do you have time for a history lesson? I promise to give you the digest version."
Jessica nodded her consent. "By all means, go ahead," she told Dr. Gentry.
Gentry poured himself a glass of water from a pitcher in the middle of the table. He took several sips before continuing.
"Galileo was already a noted astronomer, but it was when he discovered Murano glass that his abilities reached new heights. With the almost crystal clarity of that glass, he was able to make new, more powerful lenses and dramatically improve the capability of his telescopes. And if memory serves, he managed to achieve a magnification of twenty times," Dr. Gentry told her. "This allowed him unprecedented views of the night sky. And in January of 1610 he made observations that would change astronomy -- and science -- forever."
"And what was that?" King asked him.
"Well, when he pointed his telescope toward Jupiter, he observed for the first time a line of four distinct lights in front of it. Over time he noted that the lights changed their position, and correctly hypothesised that they were moons in orbit of Jupiter. Now what you have to remember is that up until that point, there were two acceptable models of the universe."
"Interesting," Jessica said earnestly as she now poured herself some water. "And fascinating, to think that this was once modern science. Astronomy at the very edge of sophistication."
"It is fascinating, isn't it? So yes, there were two," Gentry said. "The Ptolemy model, whereby the Earth stood at the centre of everything. The entire universe literally revolved around the Earth. Copernicus refuted this theory and claimed that, at far as our own solar system was concerned, everything orbited the sun. After all, the Greek for planet is 'wanderer.'"
"How was it decided that the Copernicus view of the universe was the correct one?" she asked.
"For that, we come back to Galileo. By observing Jupiter, and proving that Jupiter had its own moons in orbit, he was able to substantiate Copernicus's theory. He published his research in a slim volume entitled Starry Messenger. In fact I have a copy in storage on Station 6."
"The church at the time must have taken a dim view of Galileo's findings," Jessica pointed out.
Gentry nodded. "Yes, it was the cause of some scandal. However, about a hundred years later, we had significantly advanced equipment with which to prove that he was right. We were able to observe stellar parallax – which is what Galileo himself had seen when he watched Jupiter and its moons interact with one another – the shift in the relative position of the stars and the Earth as we orbit the Sun. It's a shame it came too late. I'm sure he would have enjoyed seeing his theory proven."
"Great minds are rarely appreciated in their own time," King said.
"Indeed," Gentry said. "Copernicus came up with the idea . . . but Galileo proved it. That is science. Everything that has happened since is due in part to Galileo and another fellow called Kepler, who showed that the orbits of the planets were not circular but ellipses. We owe the very fact that we're here, right now, to those two men."
"Amazing, isn't it?" Jessica said with an incredulous shake of her head. "Look at how far we've come."
"Galileo once said 'The laws of the universe are written in the language of mathematics,'" Gentry said, moving on with his tale. "And perhaps as a footnote to my less than concise history lesson, Galileo was known for making several other discoveries during his lifetime. He proved that objects of different sizes and weights fall at the same speed. The old wives tale of Galileo dropping a canon ball and a feather from the top of a building is wildly inaccurate. He also proved that it was the density of an object, and not its shape, that determined whether or not it would float."
"You seem to be somewhat in awe of the man," the Captain said.
Dr. Gentry laughed. "I guess I am. As a man of science, I do not see how I cannot be."
She frowned. "Not to be rude, but how does all this tie in with the Enigma? Or have I just missed the point?"
"You mean, 'was this all just chat?'" the Doctor asked.
Jessica laughed, but nodded all the same.
"I did have a point," he said. "And it ties into what we were discussing before."
"Oh?" she said.
Gentry stood and walked over to the nearest porthole. Beyond lay the Enigma. With his back to her, hands in his pockets, he spoke in a far softer voice.
"I am often in awe of that time, when the first pioneers in the field attempted to understand the immensity of the heavens," he said. "It seems almost romantic to me, that age of discovery of innovation. And it isn't just nostalgia; we're still looking. Even now, on ships such as this, we're still star watching and dreaming of what lies beyond in that starry sea we call the cosmos . . ."
He turned back around, and in the flash of the overhead lights, Jessica was almost certain his eyes glistened. Here was a man who, on previous occasions, had proven to be erratic, unpredictable and a certifiable crackpot. And yet he stood before her now, a wise man, a scientist, a man visibly moved by his field of study, and all those who'd come before him.
Her opinion of Wilf Gentry had changed.
"We do not know all that is out there," he said, his voice wistful as he continued on. "We can imagine, and theorise, but if there's one universal constant, it is that the truth will always be far stranger than anything we could possibly imagine. Captain King, I have no definitive answers for you. You have my theories, my speculation. My thoughts on just what the Enigma is, what we may yet still find over there on that mysterious time capsule of a world. But what none of us can ever escape is the same sense of wonder humanity has always felt when they've gazed up at the stars. It is the unknown, and there is no way of predicting what you will find when you venture forth into it. No matter how well informed you are, there's no telling what might happen. Surprises always find a way of presenting themselves . . ."
46.
Selena Walker and Gary Belcher stood in awe. What could only be the power core, or the reactor, of the Enigma shone like a miniature sun before them. It was a sparkling cascade of energy trapped within a hexagonal chamber. The chamber was completely transparent, and as much as the light it exuded was blinding, it also had a mesmerising quality. They couldn't stop looking.
"Now we know how it moves," Belcher said.
"Yeah," Walker agreed.
"It looks like Christmas," Belcher said.
Selena shook her head. "It looks like Heaven. In a bottle."
Being so close to it made the hairs on their arms, and at the back of their necks, stand on end. It hurt their eyes. And yet it was so entrancing . . .
"Walker, come in," a voice said. It snapped them both out of it.
Selena spoke into her comm. unit. "Yes, this is Walker."
"Come find us. You have got to see this," Rayne said.
"We found something pretty interesting here, too," Selena said, though she was more than happy to get some distance from it – whatever it was.
47.
"Look," Rayne said as Gary Belcher and Selena Walker approached from down the corridor. Olivia and Lieutenant Jackson stood directly in front of a display showing several suits of armour, old fashioned sword-like weapons. A kind of lance, and something that could only be a whip of some sort.
"Very peculiar," Walker said. She noted the design of the armour, too. "It's almost ceremonial."
"What do you mean?" Jackson asked.
"You know, something you might wear to a special occasion, or a coming of age test. It almost looks –" Selena started to say.
"– feudal," Jackson interjected.
"Yes," Walker said. "Definitely feeling the warrior vibe with all of this."
Olivia started to walk off. "And that's not all of it."
The others followed her into a large oval room, crammed from floor to ceiling with consoles and displays. Not one seat in the whole place. There was no display screen, like most Union vessels, but some kind of holodisplay emitter at the centre of the room.
"This has to be a bridge," Belcher said. "Just looking at the layout, the design. It's clearly intended to orchestrate events."
"If it's not a bridge then it's a war room," Jackson said.
"There was a class of Union runners that had bridges like this," Belcher explained. "Back a century or more. They were like the old submarines from Earth's history. You ever seen one of those things?"
Olivia nodded. "Yeah in a museum one time."
"Well, they had something similar. Only it was a cube with displays on each side, and that sat in the middle of the bridge," Belcher told her. "But still, very much like this."
"So this is where they control the Enigma from," Walker said.
"Or would've," Olivia said. "If they were here . . ."
48.
"Well, I won't be too long," Dana Oriz said as she hefted the sack containing the scorpion up off the deck.
"They're already at the other side of the airlock, waiting," Chang told her.
"Right. See you soon," Dana said and donned her helmet. Lieutenant Chang watched her walk off toward one of the elevators that would take her to the airlock.
*
Olivia Rayne answered her comm. and smiled the moment she heard Chang's voice.
"Lisa!"
Jackson threw her a strange look, so she went to one side and spoke in a lower voice. Selena and Gary had gone back out to get another look at the swords and armour.
"Lisa, I didn't know you were going to call," Olivia said. "Boy oh boy, have we found some stuff over here."
"Thought I'd surprise you," Chang said. "Doctor Oriz has just gone up to the airlock. They're taking that creature aboard now to study."
"Oh. Will you be all right over there on your own like that?"
"Sure. They've shown us no interest. We're going to try and get some decent footage of them, though, once Dana comes back."
"Good. We're having a storm here."
"Same as what we had here in C-1," Chang said. "It'll pass."
Olivia took a deep breath. "Lisa, I –"
"Yep, I know," Chang told her. "Me too."
"See you soon?" Olivia asked.
"You bet, Liv. Even if I have to travel down there in that storm," Chang said. And do me a favour, will you?"
"Anything."
"Stay safe."
*
When Dana returned to C-1, she and Commander Chang followed the first scorpion they could find, filming its every move. They watched as it cleaned every surface it came into contact with, using its mouth. With its claws it picked up anything out of place. A ball of dust blew in front of it, and the two women watched in surprise as it neatly plucked it out of the air and slipped the dust ball into its mouth.
Yet again, they observed as the scorpions disappeared into the floor, and yet were unable to open the hatches themselves, let alone get a real glimpse of what was down there.
"This is the skin, and that's the flesh underneath," Dana stated after they watched yet another of the scorpion creatures do a disappearing act on them.
"Then in this case the flesh truly does crawl," Chang was quick to answer.
49.
Dr. Clayton removed his gloves. Jessica looked at the milky, blue fluid splattered up the front of his apron. The scorpion lay on its back, legs splayed out, underbelly cut open.
"So?" she asked him.
Clayton took a deep breath. "Far as I can tell, it's biomechanical."
"Biomechanical?"
He nodded. "Yes. There are parts of it that are wholly organic, side by side with mechanical components. And there's parts of it that seem . . . well, a bit of both. As I said, biomechanical. A melding of organic tissues and mechanical parts."
"Right. So this thing's not strictly a robot."
Clayton laughed. "Far from it." He indicated the blood on his apron.
Jessica watched as he tossed his gloves, apron and face mask in the waste, then followed him into his office.
"Have you ever seen anything like that before?" she asked him.
Clayton sat down. Behind them in the medical bay, the nurses dealt with the corpse of the scorpion. It would be frozen and put into storage until they could get back to Station 6.
"Of course, there are replicants, but they're not strictly biomechanical," Clayton explained. "Artificially created beings, modified to have certain traits. This is different, though."
"Yes. These are, as you say, a mix. Do you know if the Union has ever tried such a thing?" Jessica asked him.
Clayton's eyes fixed on her own for a moment. "It's not public knowledge, and I'm not even sure I should be telling you this . . ."
"Go on," she urged him.
Clayton sat forward, his voice lowered to a near whisper. "As you know, I have contacts here and there. It's one of the reasons I was able to get hold of your new meds. Call it a kind of black market, but not quite. It's hard to explain. Anyway, years ago I got talking to a contact of mine. Said he'd seen some things. Stumbled upon a Union facility on a backwater planet."
"Which planet?"
Clayton shook his head. "He didn't say. Only that it was one of those frontier jobs. You know, far away from everything. They live practically a wild west existence in those places."
"So what did he see?"
Clayton's eyes were heavy. "Jess, he told me he saw an army of Union soldiers on manoeuvres. But they weren't human and they weren't replicants. He said they were . . . something else. Anyway, to cut a long story short, it sounded an awful lot like what I've just cut open on that table. The traits he described to me would fall in line with something containing organic and mechanical body parts."
Jessica let that sink in. "I wonder if that's why we've really been sent here."
"What do you mean?" Clayton asked.
"It's probably nothing. Just a line of thought. Anyway, what traits do you mean? What did he tell you?" Jessica asked him, putting what she'd been thinking about to the back of her mind for now.
"He said he observed one of them leap over twenty metres into the air, then fire at a series of ground based targets before he landed," Clayton told her. "Another got shot by live rounds, in the chest, and yet continued to fight on. Understandably, as soon as he could, my contact fled the area and forgot about what he'd seen. That is, of course, till he'd had a drink."
"And you don't think it was the drink talking?" she asked the Doctor, although she knew in her heart it wasn't. Again, there was something nagging at the back of her mind.
Clayton shook his head once. "No. He saw it."
"I won't repeat this, Doctor," Jessica assured him. She stood. Clayton looked up at her.
"Jess, what are we doing developing soldiers like that? I thought the Union's days of warmongering were over."
"I did too," she said, and left. On her way out, she spared the scorpion one last look as it was pushed into a heavy bag for freezing. Then she left the medical bay behind and headed for the bridge.
*
On her way up there, Jessica thought about the circumstances under which they'd been sent to investigate the Enigma. Grimshaw had been in such a hurry to get the Defiant shipshape and ready to go. They barely had time to catch their breath after a full year in the galactic wilds before they were sent straight back out on a secret mission.
She detoured to her quarters and called up the file on the Enigma. She accessed the data from the probe that had first detected its presence. Her suspicions proved correct. Command had had possession of the data for six months. Meaning, they'd known the Enigma was out there all that time. And yet, they'd made no effort to make a rendezvous with it.
Why?
And there was something else, too. It nagged at her. She couldn't remember exactly what it was, so she scanned through reports from the time the Enigma had been sighted. Her eyes widened as she happened across the very thing she'd been trying to remember. And then, on from that, aerial footage of a planet's surface.
She had a theory. But she needed a sounding board. Jessica called up to the bridge and requested Commander Greene come to her quarters immediately. Not long after, he was at her door.
"Emergency?" he asked, visibly a little out of breath from his sprint.
"Sorry, Del, I didn't mean to startle you. No, not an emergency. Something important, though. Sit down," she said. "Water? I'm having one."
"Good. Let's drink water together then," he said and sat. "So what is this?"
Jessica poured each of them a glass of water, handed Greene his, and went through the whole thing. She told him about Clayton's story – and swore him to secrecy – then explained to him about the telemetry from the deep space probe Command had been holding onto for six months.
"So why the rush?" Greene asked.
"This is what I'm coming to. And it's only a theory, I just want to know if it's nuts or not," King said.
"Go on . . ."
She licked her lips. "Just suppose the Union has been working on resurrecting old Namar technology from all that time ago. God knows they were ahead of the curve in most respects. What if they've found a way of reverse engineering it, but it's not perfect?"
"Yeah. I read there's lots of that old Namarian stuff about, and maybe they found relics from that time we've not heard about," Greene said.
"So, something happens. Such as three months ago. An experimental starship is stolen from Starbase 19 and simply disappears. They've yet to track it down."
"Okay."
"The report indicated an inside job. Union people stole that ship, Del. And I've a feeling just what sort of Union people did it, too," she said, nearing her point.
Greene was already there. "The soldiers Clayton told you about."
"Precisely."
Jessica led him to her work station and produced the aerial footage of a backwater planet that had long been dubbed Delta Colony. It showed a scorched area on the surface, and what had once been a barracks. "Apparently this is all that remains of a training facility."
"Training facility? Yeah right. Top secret source of operations more like," Greene said. "So you think . . . what? The soldiers went AWOL and blew the place apart in the process?"
Jessica looked up at him, nodding slowly. "Exactly that. It seems to make sense, doesn't it? Especially given their sudden interest in the Enigma."
"When did this happen?"
"A little over three months ago, followed almost simultaneously by the theft of the ship. And then, lo and behold, along we come," she said. "The right ship, in the right place, at the right time."
Commander Greene walked to the porthole, folded his arms, and looked out.
"It doesn't quite add up though," he said. "Why wait so long? Why not reroute a ship straight there the minute they found it?"
"I don't understand that either," King said. "But whatever the reason, they must have one."
Greene looked at her from across the room. "You understand we can't talk about this to anyone, right? It has to stay between us. At least, for now."
"I know, Del. You're the only one I trust," Captain King said. She drained her water. She set the glass back on the table. "I believe we're being played here, somehow. And when we find out just how, I intend to be ready to take action."
"Amen," Greene said.
50.
At the exact same time Captain Jessica King was in her quarters discussing conspiracy theories with Commander Greene, Team Three discovered an airlock within the power facility at the rear of the Enigma. It took a bit of work for Lieutenant Jackson to open it. The airlock was not a fancy, touch-operated mechanism as they'd seen elsewhere on the ship. It had a traditional locking wheel, stiff with age. It took all of the man's strength to get it to budge.
However, budge it did.
"We'll let the man go first," Rayne said.
"Don't I count?" Belcher asked. He'd been standing next to Jackson as he struggled with the locking wheel, but the other man had refused any offer of help.
"Oh yes, you do," Rayne said. "But Jackson's the one with the biggest weapon. And the most experience in hand-to-hand combat. If there's something or somebody down there, they'll meet their match."
Belcher went next. "I'm pretty handy with a wrench myself, I'll have you know . . ."
Selena Walker rolled her eyes and went in after Belcher, with Olivia Rayne stepping through the airlock last.
Sulphur yellow light filtered through from the ceiling. There were dim runner lights on the floor, but they did little to cut through the gloom in there. However, it was easy to see what this section of the ship was.
Rayne hit her comm. and got in touch with the Defiant straight away.
*
"Captain?" the bridge called through the comm. unit in her room. Jessica stopped Commander Greene on his way out the door.
"Hold on Del, let's hear this first," she said. "Bridge, this is the Captain. What is it?"
"We have Team Three on the line. It's urgent."
"Put her through," Jessica said. Greene stepped away from the door and it closed.
"Captain, it's Rayne," a familiar voice said over the speakers.
"Lieutenant, I hear you, go ahead," Jessica answered.
"We found something back here, something you'll want to see," Rayne said.
Greene frowned.
"Olivia, what have you found down there?" King asked her.
There was a brief silence, and then: "People. We've found people . . ."
51.
Captain’s Personal Journal
T.U. Defiant Log
Standard Ship Time
We have found a crew. This is unexpected but not unbelievable. By that I mean it is has not shocked me. We knew going in that anything might happen. We didn't know what we'd find inside the Enigma. However, I'm unsure how to proceed. Do I wake one of them? Ask questions?
Is it unethical? Does it breach any of our rules and regulations? I don't believe I've ever encountered a Directive that dealt with this kind of situation . . . but I could be mistaken. We're looking into it now.
In the meantime, I've asked Doctor Clayton to meet me at the airlock to C-1. I'll then escort him through the Enigma. I'm hopeful he can do an examination and shed some light on the situation with the crew. Are they in some state of hibernation? We believe so.
Olivia noted that there were several of the pods vacated. Empty, the doors left wide open like clamshells. Almost as if some of them had woken up and climbed out. Or, perhaps they have been pried open like oysters, the pearls within stolen away . . .
52.
As they rode the tram from C-1 to C-3, just the two of them, Dr. Clayton asked the Captain how she was finding the new medication.
"Oh, apart from an occasional bout of sea sickness, I've been fine. No problems."
Clayton frowned. "Sea sickness?"
"You know, wobbly legs, a little bit of nausea. Whatever's in the medicine seems to set me off balance for a couple of hours. But it soon settles down and the effects wear off. I'm not too bothered by it, Doctor," Jessica assured him.
"Well, keep an eye on it anyway. We don't want reactions to the medicine to make you feel worse rather than better. The whole idea was to give you some respite from the pain and discomfort, after all."
"Yes I know. And it's working fine right now."
Clayton seemed to accept that. He stared out the window as the shuttle took them from one end of the cylinder to another, speeding past a lot of the stuff they'd spent hours cataloguing for future analysis. They'd taken every reading they could take. Now that she'd been in there a while, Jessica felt entirely at ease with an upside down world constantly over her head.
However, for the Doctor, it was all too much.
"Mustn't look up," he mumbled.
"Huh?" she asked him.
Clayton flicked his eyes to the topsy-turvy landscape above them, then he looked back down again. "I don't do well with heights."
"But Doctor! We're at ground level –"
"Doesn't matter. Looking at what's up there makes me feel like I'm high above it all, and everything's in miniature. I feel wrong. So it's best to just keep averting my eyes and move onto something else. I've never been good with heights."
"I think you manage just fine. Right, well, very good then," King said. "I don't think we're far from it all now."
"Excellent," Clayton said.
"It was a stroke of luck, finding these. Otherwise it might have taken days to explore the interior. I'm not sure anyone wants to spend that long in a cylinder, no matter how big it is. You never quite forget you're a small bug in an oversized jar."
Clayton crossed his arms. "So . . . these stasis pods they've found . . ."
"Apparently there are too many to count. Until we can access their computer system, and somehow decipher the information there, we'll have to guess at the number," Jessica said.
"Right. And are they humanoid?"
"So they tell me. I don't think they can see much. I told them not to pop any of the pods open until you arrive," she told him.
"Good decision," Clayton said. "I did read that the Namar dabbled in cybernetics and biomechanical technology. I'd imagine we'll see the same kind of organism as the scorpion I dissected."
"You mean, a mixture of the two."
"Yes. Of course, it'll be fascinating to observe a live specimen. See how all the organs operate," Clayton said. He slowly looked up as the tram raced across the last of C-2 and entered the tunnel leading to C-3. "Ah. That's better. Thank goodness I'm not claustrophobic, too . . ."
53.
The room was filled with stasis pods. Jessica's gaze fell immediately to the empty pods a few feet away, left open as if they were coffins raided by grave robbers. She didn't call attention to them. Not yet.
"My oh my," Dr. Clayton said as he examined one of the occupied pods. There was a sheet of glass, frosted with ice, through with he could see the face of the sleeper within. "A harsh form of hibernation."
"What do you mean?" Jessica asked him.
Clayton looked up. "Well, when we put someone into hibernation, we generally lower the temperature of the pod as a matter of course. However, to actually reduce the temperature to near freezing does irreparable damage to the cell structure, the internal organs . . . the list goes on."
"But not in one of the Namar, I take it," Jessica offered.
"Yes."
"Do you think we can pop one open?" she asked him.
Selena Walker shot her a look. "Sorry, Captain, but are you sure that's such a good idea? I mean, is it ethical?"
"You've every right to question my judgement on this, Miss Walker. But don't worry. I've checked every directive, every rule. As long as we have probable cause, we're well within our rights to wake one of them to get answers," the Captain explained. "And that little stockpile back there is just that. Probable cause."
"I agree," Walker said.
The Doctor looked over several of the pods. He jabbed a finger at one of them. "This pod seems to be on a different sequence than the others. Like it's been programmed to wake the inhabitant following a specific trigger."
Jessica called Belcher over, and watched as the junior engineer examined the displays on the front of the pod. Despite being in a different language, he seemed to be able to understand some of it.
Perhaps, Jessica mused, some things, like mathematics, are a universal language.
"Far as I can tell," Belcher said. "It's definitely on some kind of count down. A kind of defrost. Only way I can describe it."
"Can we move the pod?" Jessica asked.
Belcher gave it a look. "I think so. These things have an independent power source. You know, so that if anything happens to the ship itself, they continue to operate. If I get a couple of hands over here, I'm certain I can have it out and on its way over to the Defiant within an hour."
She turned to Dr. Clayton. "Will you stay nearby, in case he needs you?"
"Sure," Clayton said.
Jessica looked around. The dingy light down there beneath the engine structure, the way it cut through the grating and made bars of the shadows almost resembled a prison.
"Make it happen," she told Belcher. "Get the Chief to personally pick who she's sending over here. I'm sure Jackson can assist while you wait."
"Yes Ma'am," Gary Belcher said. "Don't worry. We'll do it."
54.
As it happened, removing the stasis pod from C-3 proved easier than first thought. Apart from the sheer weight of the pod itself, it proved to be completely independent from the surrounding mechanics. As Belcher had noted, it operated separately from the rest of the Enigma.
"It's a kind of redundancy," he said as he helped Lieutenant Jackson lift it off of the mounts that held it in place. "If the hull got compromised, the man or woman inside would be untouched."
Olivia Rayne guided them out the door, but then they had to lower the pod back to the ground.
"Thank God they're bringing over an anti-grav platform . . ." Belcher sighed, beads of sweat on his face.
"I know what you mean," Jackson said. "They make 'em solid, don't they?"
"Well –" Belcher started to say. Jackson held up a hand to stop him in his tracks.
"A redundancy. I know. I got it," he said.
"Sorry," Belcher said. He sat down.
"Come on Selena, let's give the boys a hand," Rayne said.
Walker took one end and Olivia the other. They both lifted. Belcher and Jackson watched with mouths agape as the two girls carried the pod slowly down to the surface of C-3, toward the tram.
They scrambled after them. "Wait! Wait! We'll take over!"
*
A half hour later, two men from the Defiant had relieved Team Three of their heavy burden and whisked the pod away on an anti-grav platform. Olivia Rayne turned to Jackson and Belcher. "Shall we set up monitors on the other pods? So we know if any of the others start to defrost?"
Belcher was already on it. He got Jackson to assist.
"What shall we do?" Selena asked as the two men went back to the engine structure at the back of C-3.
Olivia sat and opened her survival pack. "I say we have some rations and let the boys do the rest. It'll do 'em good."
"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Walker asked her.
"I am actually. It makes a change to get off the bridge," Olivia admitted. "I could get used to this sort of work."
"Mention it to the Captain," Selena told her.
Olivia looked off into the distance as she ate. "I just might."
*
"So some of them were already open?" Greene asked.
"Yes. And you know, we found no sign anywhere that people had been in there before us," Jessica said. "It's strange."
"I'll tell you what is strange, and that's that pod cycling through a thawing cycle of its own accord," Commander Greene said. "Why that one?"
Jessica shook her head. "I don't know. There are a tonne of questions, Del. Like, who were they who broke in before us? Who took those people from the pods? Why?" Jessica said. Her eyes became hard points of determination. "And more importantly, how does it connect with the soldiers the Union's been secretly developing?"
"I'm not sure how," Greene said. "But regardless, it connects anyway. And that's a grave concern."
*
Dr. Clayton stood back and let the security officers handle the alien woman. The four men lifted her from the confines of the stasis pod and over to the awaiting bed.
The Namarian appeared to be soundly asleep. Her body was inert, almost lifeless. She was a grey colour, an almost cadaver hue of grey. No colour or pigmentation at all. Her bald head was studded with small devices. Clayton peeled back the woman's eyelids to reveal large, washed-out eyes beneath.
She had technological parts all over, snaking in and out of her flesh like the coils of a snake.
"I've never seen anything like it," the Doctor said.
"Thank you, gentlemen, we'll take it from here," Nurse Munoz said as he ushered the guards out of the medical bay. "Wait outside, we'll let you know if anything happens."
"Get the restraints in place," Clayton told him. "And I'll get her stats up on the board. I've a feeling pretty soon this dreamer's going to wake."
*
As Clayton spoke, the sleeping woman did indeed dream. She dreamt as she had done for a thousand years. However, something was different. The dream had changed. It was almost as if it grew thin, the pressure of reality up against it, forcing the membrane of unconsciousness to begin to rupture.
And little could the crew of the Defiant know that a nemesis from another age had begun to wake. For after hundreds of years of waiting, her time had come again . . .
55.
The Namar were dying. They had used and exploited every planet in their native system and their offensive manoeuvres in other star systems had faltered.
"Cessqa, it's time," her second in command urged her.
She stood regarding their home world with tears in her eyes. Perhaps it would be the very last time she would be able to look upon it. A once brilliant diamond in the cosmos, and now . . .
Little more than a ghost of its former self.
"Cessqa, please, if we do not leave now we will never make it," Ranesh said.
"Yes. I am coming," Cessqa said finally. She turned and followed him to one of the awaiting transports.
In the hope of ensuring their future survival, the Namar had elected to build a revolutionary vehicle, the largest such construction they had ever attempted. It would hold hundreds of thousands of their people, and an armada with enough firepower to pose a definite threat to all who encountered them. Within it, those chosen few – the Namarians best and brightest – would sleep and await the day they were reactivated. To continue the work of their people.
To conquer.
Cessqa stepped onto the transport and it departed from the space station orbiting the Namarian home world and headed for the secret location where the great ship had been built, hidden from the watchful eyes of their opponents.
She was never more than aware that the very fate of their people may rest solely on her shoulders. Cessqa had been placed in command of the entire mission and her orders were simple:
"When you are awakened, assess the state of our people. And, conditions permitting, continue our work. Take the galaxy one planet at a time. Conquer everything and rule all . . ."
*
"She's coming around," Dr. Clayton said. He watched as the cybernetic being's eyes fluttered open, her eyes adjusting to the light. Pupils dilating within mercury coloured irises. "Keep monitoring her vitals."
"Yes Doctor," Nurse Munoz said.
Clayton laid a hand on the alien's wrist, just below the restraints that held her in place. "Hello."
She looked at him in a way that sent a shiver up his spine. It unnerved him. Clayton felt the sudden need for water to quench the dryness in his throat. It was almost like the alien was not looking at him, but into him. Right down to his core.
He took a step back.
"Call the Captain. Tell her our sleeper's awake."
*
Cessqa was the last to be put to sleep. Any normal organism might not have been expected to last hundreds, if not thousands, of years in hibernation. However, the Namar were no longer strictly organic. Over the millennia they had adapted their race to incorporate technological elements, and it had served them well. Life spans were near on indefinite. Sickness and disease, a thing of the past.
But for all their advancements, one thing could not be denied: somewhere along the way, in the process of adding to themselves, they had lost something. A part of their people, their souls maybe, that they would never get back. And the change had made them a cruel, vile race.
So as Cessqa lay down in her capsule to begin the hibernation sequence, she did not fear perishing in the many years she would probably be asleep. Her body, strong and enhanced by numerous mechanical additions, would continue to operate. Death would not come near.
One day I will wake, she told herself as the technician connected her to the various tubes and wires within the capsule. And it will continue. We will survive. The whole galaxy will fall to our feet.
And with that thought, she succumbed to the hibernation. She closed her eyes and slept for a thousand years. Until she found herself once more rising to consciousness, strange sounds and an unknown language greeting her ears.
Her eyes fluttered open, and one of them looked down at her.
Hatred. It rose from deep within at the sight of the man with his hand on her wrist. She saw his expression change as she stared at him.
For all they had lost in advancing their race, one thing had remained. Hate. With every implant, with every enhancement, it had only grown stronger in the Namar. And whereas millennia before it had proved to be their undoing, now it would fuel the fire that would see them begin their work anew.
It all starts here, she thought. With these. Our first, unwitting prey . . .
56.
"I'm on my way," Jessica King spoke into the comm. unit on her chair. "Tell Clayton I'm bringing some guards with me and to clear the medical bay. Make some room."
"Yes Captain."
The channel closed.
Jessica got up and patted Commander Greene on the shoulder. "Del, get our people out of there. I want all crew back on the Defiant for the time being."
"Any particular reason?" Greene asked in a hushed voice.
She shook her head. "No. Just a feeling. Call it a hunch. Whatever it is, it's telling me we should close the stable door before the horse bolts."
The Commander was already on the case, calling through to the different team members and ordering them back on the double.
"I'm on my way to the medical bay. Have Dolarhyde meet me on deck eight. You've got the conn," she told him and left.
57.
Dollar was waiting for her as she turned the corner.
"Captain."
"Lieutenant," she said. "Walk with me. We're going to the medical bay."
The once-famed pilot fell in step with her. "Uh-huh, and if yuh don't mind me askin', what's all this gotta do with me?"
"You're no stranger to the unknown," Jessica told him. "Given your previous occupational experience I thought you might have a unique perspective on our new visitor."
"Fair enough," Dollar said. "I heard you brought one of 'em aboard. Just so long as you don't expect me to start communicatin'."
"No, we'll use the translators for that job," she assured him. "I just want you to observe."
"Right."
"And of course, the Namar were a notoriously ferocious species," Jessica said. "I thought it might be good to have someone nearby who's good in a scrap if one happens."
Dollar chuckled. "Ain't you got security there?"
"They're on their way," she said. "But, well, you know . . ."
Dollar laughed again. He did know.
*
The outer airlock on the Enigma's hull remained open behind them as they made their way back to the Defiant. The team members walked in single file the length of the Walkway.
"What's the thinking?" Olivia asked Chang in front of her. "Did something happen?"
"I don't know," Chang said. They spoke over the comm. but on a private channel. None of the other team members could listen in, which was nice for once.
"Seems strange to suddenly pull us all out of there," Olivia said. "Especially since we were right in the middle of cataloguing the different ship designs in C-2."
"Yeah, well, we got a lot of holo-data. Should prove useful for the time being. I don't know, the Captain makes calls like this sometimes," Chang said. "You never understand them at the time, but they always turn out right in the end."
"True," Rayne agreed.
"Besides, I'll be glad to get back in our quarters, have a nice hot shower. Get some sleep," Chang said.
For a while now the two of them had been sharing quarters. It was not something that was frowned upon in any way. In fact, such a thing was encouraged. Relationships aboard ship were seen as healthy, especially on long voyages. And their last mission had been a full year of their lives. It hadn't taken long for Chang and Rayne to arrange swaps with their respective roommates so they could stay together.
The hardest part had been unbolting the two single bunks from the decking and pushing them together. Lieutenant Belcher had discreetly helped in that regard.
"Hmm, me too," Olivia said. "Maybe cuddle."
"I didn't say that was in the cards," Chang said.
"Oh," Rayne said, a note of despondency in her voice. "I thought . . ."
Commander Chang turned around to face her. Luckily they were at the end of the line. She had a smile on her face, lit from above within her helmet. "I'm messing with you, Liv."
Olivia reached out and took Chang's gloved hands into her own.
"It's been nice spending this time together," she said. "Weird, but nice."
"I know exactly how you feel," Chang said. They continued on, and within ten minutes they'd reached the Defiant.
Little did they contemplate the notion they may be the last humans to ever step foot on the Enigma.
58.
"Can you understand me?" Jessica asked.
The new universal translator units were small devices, hidden throughout the Defiant. They operated through brain stimulation rather than converting one audible language to another. In a manner of speaking, they translated one thought to another seamlessly. You never knew they were there.
The Namarian woman nodded slowly. "Yes." She rubbed her head.
"Doctor?" King asked Dr. Clayton. "Is she okay?"
"By the looks of things, yes. Still getting over the hibernation. Must be like the biggest hangover in history," he said in his usual positive manner.
There was something in his voice, however, that Jessica didn't like. A certain uneasiness she couldn't put her finger on.
I'll have to chat with him about it after, she thought.
"What is your name?" Jessica asked the woman.
"I am Cessqa."
Jessica indicated herself by patting her chest. "And I am Captain Jessica King of the Union Starship Defiant. A pleasure to meet you."
She held out her hand, but the Namarian did not make any attempt to shake. However, after several seconds she did reach out and try to reciprocate. It was plain to see the gesture was as alien to the Cessqa as her many artificial embellishments were to them.
"A pleasure to meet you," Jessica said. "And if you'll allow me, I'd like to apologise for waking you. But we have a lot of questions regarding your ship."
Cessqa's eyes widened in acknowledgment. "Ah, yes, my ship. The Amarax."
"The Amarax. Right, got it," King said.
At least that's better than Enigma, she thought to herself. One mystery solved, only a few thousand more to go.
Cessqa continued to rub her head. "Forgive me, but I do not feel well."
"This won't take long," Jessica said, eager to hear answers. "If you could just tell us why you were left in there."
Cessqa shook her head, her face crumpled up as if in pain. "Please, I . . . I am weak . . ."
The Namarian laid back on the hospital bed, visibly in discomfort. Jessica looked to Dr. Clayton for guidance. He was busily studying her vitals. He simply shrugged to indicate he wasn't sure what was wrong with her. "Perhaps she just feels ill. That's a long time to be asleep, you know."
"Yes, I'm aware of that," King said. "Well, I'll come back in a few hours. Maybe she'll have perked up a bit."
"Sleep. I need to sleep," Cessqa said in a frail voice from the hospital bed.
Jessica reached out, patted the other woman's hand. "And you can. Get some rest, and I'll speak with you later. It's been a pleasure meeting you, and I hope to learn a lot about your race."
"Yes, yes," Cessqa said weakly.
Jessica left the medical bay, but ordered the guards to remain outside in the corridor. Just in case.
Dollar left with her, and it was not until they reached Jessica's quarters that he piped up with his opinion.
"Seemed a bit convenient the gal stared feelin' sick when you asked her prescient stuff, Cap," he said. "Think it might be fake?"
"I'm not sure," Jessica said. Without knowing it, she bit her bottom lip, her mind turning over. "You know, none of this feels right. I can't put my finger on it."
"Gut feelin'?" Dollar asked her.
She brightened. "Yes. Something like that."
"Know what yuh mean," he said. "I got the same thing."
"What did you think? Really, in your gut?" she asked him.
Dollar took a deep breath, his arms crossed in front of his chest. "That we've maybe discovered somethin' we weren't meant to. A bit like Pandora's box. Maybe . . . yuh know, just maybe . . .we shouldn't have opened it."
59.
She appeared still again. The alien woman who called herself Cessqa had ceased to strain against the straps holding her to the bed, and closed her eyes.
"Frank," Clayton said. "I'm leaving you in charge for a couple of hours. I need to get my head down."
"You feeling all right, Doc?" Nurse Munoz asked.
He waved a hand at the other man. "Yeah, yeah. Just tired. I'm no spring chicken anymore, in case you hadn't noticed. And it's been one helluva day."
"I understand."
"Any problems, there's a couple of jarheads out in the hall. And of course you've only gotta give me a call . . ." Clayton said.
"Don't worry," Munoz told him. "I'll turn the lights down in here. Let her sleep."
"A good idea. Keep an eye on her vitals, though, will you? Maybe give 'em a check every half hour or so. Just to be on the safe side."
Munoz gave a quick salute. "You got it, Doc."
Dr. Clayton headed for the door. "Well, I'm off. Night, Frank."
"Sure. Night."
The door to the medical bay closed behind him, leaving Nurse Frank Munoz and Cessqa alone. Munoz dimmed the lights to near-dark, then checked the alien's readouts. They appeared to be stable. And as for the woman herself, she looked asleep.
He walked over to the little office at the back and accessed the ship's database. He had exams taking place in a few weeks. With any luck, he would soon be more than a male nurse. If he passed, Clayton had promised to take him under his wing.
As he scanned the many pages of the database, his face lit by the cool glow of the computer screen, he did notice the figure shifting about in the dark. He did not hear the restraints tearing apart.
No part of him expected the sudden rush of movement from his left. He barely had time to glance in that direction before something big and heavy came crashing down on him. Frank's head took the full brunt of the hit, his skull crushed like an eggshell.
Nurse Frank Munoz would never get to take the exam.
*
Cessqa dropped the second guard to the floor where he writhed, his hands at his throat where she'd crushed his windpipe. He gasped for breath, face turning blue until he went rigid and death made him still.
She moved swiftly along the ship's corridors, deserted for now due to the change in shifts, and tried to recognise anything from the layout she'd studied on the wall in the doctor's small office.
There. A turning that would take her to an umbilical docking device. She took a gamble that it would be attached to the Amarax somehow.
Cessqa only encountered three crew members on her way there. All of them, she dispatched effortlessly and with cool detachment.
Luckily there were not more before she reached the Walkway and left the Defiant at an incredibly fast run. Already six had died by her hand.
60.
"Captain on the bridge," Commander Greene announced as Jessica hurried to the command chair.
"Status report," she said. "Tell me about the alarm."
Commander Chang shook her head as she checked her screen. "It doesn't make sense. Apparently someone has run the length of the Walkway toward the Amarax. But we did a head count, twice. Everyone is aboard."
"So somebody has left the Defiant?" King asked.
"Yes," Chang said.
"Commander," Jessica said, turning to Commander Greene. "Bring up the security footage. Let's see if we can spot who entered the Walkway."
"Aye," Greene said. "Working on it."
The front viewscreen changed from a view of the Amarax to show the small airlock in the Defiant's nose section. A grey-coloured figure bounded past the camera, en-route for the Walkway. There could be no mistake.
"Cessqa!" Jessica said. She quickly called through to the medical bay. "Doctor Clayton! Anyone!"
There was no reply.
"I'm on my way," Commander Greene said as he left the bridge at a sprint.
"Security to the medical bay," Olivia Rayne said over the ship's comm. system. "Repeat, security to the medical bay at once."
"Thank you, Lieutenant," Jessica said, regaining her composure. The thought of something happening to Dr. Clayton down there . . .
She pushed it away. As always. As she had to do. As she'd always been able to do.
"The Amarax, any change?" she asked.
Chang shook her head. "None."
"Would you like me to go to yellow alert, Captain? Activate the plating?" Lieutenant Jackson asked her.
"Not yet," King said.
Hold your horses, she thought.
*
Dr. Clayton rushed into the medical bay to find Commander Greene standing over the inert form of Nurse Munoz. He'd seen his fair share of death; it was a given that he might face it on a daily basis. It came with the job, and he'd grown accustomed to dealing with it.
But it was very hard to remain composed and professional when the recently deceased was a colleague. Someone you liked. And the good Doctor could not contain his grief.
"Why?" he asked in a hoarse voice as he got down on his knees next to Munoz.
"I don't know, Doc," Greene said. "We'll try to get some answers. I don't see how she broke her restraints."
Clayton looked down at Frank's sleeping face, and tears filled his eyes. "I never expected . . ." He lowered his head.
"I'll get her," Commander Greene told him. "I promise you, I will get her for this."
Clayton looked up. "He was a good man, Commander. There was no need for this."
"No there wasn't, Doc. And I'll see to it she gets what's coming to her. Whoever or whatever she is, I'll make sure she answers for what she's done here."
*
Lieutenant Kyle Banks spun about. "I'm reading a change in altitude," he said.
"Is the Amarax moving?" Jessica asked incredulously.
He checked the readouts on the helm station again. "Aye. And we're losing speed, falling toward its front face."
"Disengage the Walkway and back off!" King ordered.
"Aye!" Banks sounded back. His hands flew across the console, fingers keying controls like an expert pianist. Within seconds the Walkway had been jettisoned and the Defiant was tearing away from the oncoming Amarax.
"Red alert!" King ordered and buckled the safety harness on the captain's chair. "Charge the hull plating and hold off at one thousand kilometres. Get us some distance. I want every instrument trained on that vessel . . ."
"Aye!"
Jessica stared dead ahead at the mysterious craft before them and wondered just what it was they had woken from a thousand years of slumber. The giant black cylinder headed away from NA-45 and she knew that even thought she'd issued an order to the contrary, there would only be one thing to do: pursue.
"Dollar was right. We've opened Pandora's box," she whispered, barely audible in the hustle and bustle of the bridge.
"Amarax gaining speed," Chang reported.
"Banks, scrap my original order. There's only one option here. Execute a pursuit course. Do what you have to do to keep up," she ordered. "Close the gap."
"Yes Ma'am."
The comm. unit came to life.
"Bridge, this is Commander Greene," his voice heavy with sadness. "They're all dead."
Jessica's jaw set with anger. She stared dead ahead at the behemoth attempting to leave them behind. "Understood, Commander. Return to the bridge."
"Yes, Captain."
The channel closed.
We opened Pandora's box, Jessica thought. By the looks of things, we weren't the first. In either case, it's now our responsibility to close it again . . . and at what cost? How many more will die before I put an end to this?
"Contact the Amarax whichever way you can," King ordered. "Tell them – tell her – she has committed an act of war against the Terran Union. Stand down and prepare to be boarded."
Rayne nodded and set to work. Around Jessica, the bridge was suspended in deep red light the colour of blood. An emergency klaxon whined somewhere. The crew manned their stations with determination and focus.
Up ahead, gaining speed at a tremendous rate, a cold-hearted nemesis from another age headed out into space to continue her people's sinister work . . .
NEMESIS
Prologue
The Namar were dying. They had used and exploited every planet in their native system and their offensive manoeuvres in other star systems had faltered.
"Cessqa, it's time," her second in command urged her.
She stood regarding their home world with tears in her eyes. Perhaps it would be the very last time she would be able to look upon it. A once brilliant diamond in the cosmos, and now . . .
Little more than a ghost of its former self.
"Cessqa, please, if we do not leave now we will never make it," Ranesh said.
"Yes. I am coming," Cessqa said finally. She turned and followed him to one of the awaiting transports.
In the hope of ensuring their future survival, the Namar had elected to build a revolutionary vehicle, the largest such construction they had ever attempted. It would hold hundreds of thousands of their people, and an armada with enough firepower to pose a definite threat to all who encountered them. Within it, those chosen few – the Namarians' best and brightest – would sleep and await the day they were reactivated. To continue the work of their people.
To conquer.
Cessqa stepped onto the transport and it departed from the space station orbiting the Namarian home world and headed for the secret location where the great ship had been built, hidden from the watchful eyes of their opponents.
She was never more than aware that the fate of their people may rest solely on her shoulders. Cessqa had been placed in command of the mission and her orders were simple: Assess the state of our people. Conditions permitting, continue our work. Take the galaxy one planet at a time. Conquer everything. Rule all.
*
Cessqa was the last to be put to sleep. Any normal organism might not have been expected to last hundreds, if not thousands, of years in hibernation. However, the Namar were no longer strictly organic. Over the millennia they had adapted their race to incorporate technological elements, and it had served them well. Life spans were near on indefinite. Sickness and disease, a thing of the past.
But for all their advancements, one thing could not be denied: somewhere along the way, in the process of adding to themselves, they had lost something. A part of their people, their souls maybe, that they would never get back. And the change had made them a cruel, vile race.
So as Cessqa lay down in her capsule to begin the hibernation sequence, she did not fear perishing in the course of her long sleep. Her body, strong and enhanced by numerous mechanical additions, would continue to operate. Death would not come near.
One day I will wake, she told herself as the technician connected her to the various tubes and wires within the capsule. And it will continue. We will survive. The whole galaxy will fall to our feet . . .
And with that thought, she succumbed to the hibernation. She closed her eyes and slept for a thousand years. Until she found herself once more rising to consciousness, strange sounds and an unknown language greeting her ears.
*
Her eyes fluttered open, and one of them looked down at her.
Hatred. It rose from deep within at the sight of the man with his hand on her wrist. She saw his expression change as she stared at him.
For all they had lost in advancing their race, one thing had remained. Hate. With every implant, with every enhancement, it had only grown stronger in the Namar. And whereas millennia before it had proved to be their undoing, now it would fuel the fire that would see them begin their work anew.
It all starts here, she thought. With these. Our first, unwitting prey . . .
PART I
Pursuit
1.
Cessqa dropped the guard to the floor where he writhed, hands at his throat where she'd crushed his windpipe. He gasped for breath, face turning blue until he went rigid and death made him still.
She moved swiftly along the ship's corridors, deserted for now due to the change in shifts, and tried to recognise anything from the layout she'd studied on the wall in the doctor's small office.
There – a turn that would take her to an umbilical docking device. The tall, female Namarian took a gamble that it would be attached to the Amarax somehow.
Cessqa only encountered three crew members on her way there. All of them, she dispatched effortlessly and with cool detachment.
Luckily there were not more before she reached the Walkway and left the Defiant at an incredibly fast run. Already six had died by her hand.
The Walkway swayed beneath her, yet still she ran. Whether the material of the umbilical dock tore around her was of no concern. The Namar were quite immune to the harsh kiss of the void. It would not harm her. In moments they would know she had fled the ship, and that she had killed several of its crew along the way.
The entropy of a thousand years sleep left her limbs as she raced to the airlock that would take her back inside the Amarax. And to her people, deep in slumber.
*
"Captain on the bridge," Commander Greene announced as Jessica hurried to the command chair.
"Status report," she said. "Tell me about the alarm."
Commander Chang shook her head as she checked her screen. "It doesn't make sense. Apparently someone has run the length of the Walkway toward the Amarax. But we did a head count, twice. Everyone is aboard."
"So somebody has left the Defiant?" King asked.
"Yes," Chang said.
"Commander," Jessica said, turning to Commander Greene. "Bring up the security footage. Let's see if we can spot who entered the Walkway."
"Aye," Greene said. "Working on it."
The front viewscreen changed from a view of the Amarax to show the small airlock in the Defiant's nose section. A grey-coloured figure bounded past the camera, en route for the Walkway. There could be no mistake.
"Cessqa!" Jessica said.
*
The Namarian travelled the length of the Amarax – all sixty kilometres of it – in no time at all. What short distance she couldn't traverse by means of the tram, she did so by foot. Her long, powerful legs made surprisingly quick work of the few kilometres required.
Curse them for building the control room at the rear of the ship! she thought as she entered the tall structure at the stern of the Amarax. The Defiant's exploratory team had nicknamed it The Chrysler though the name would have meant nothing to her, had she known it.
The control room was a large oval, crammed from floor to ceiling with consoles and displays. Not one seat in the whole place. There was no display screen; only a holodisplay emitter at the centre of the room. Cessqa quickly accessed the controls, and power flooded into the unit. It filled the room with a three-dimensional simulation of the surrounding space. There was the planetoid, and there the small vessel that had breached the Amarax's hull.
What had that ship's commander called it? The Defiant?
It was of no matter.
Cessqa accessed the helm controls. There was a barely perceptible rumble underfoot as fresh power surged through the length of the Amarax. Its mighty engines roared to life, and the Namarian handled her with ease. In times of battle, this room would be filled with people. Every station manned and at the ready. But for the most part, the Amarax – and much of Namarian technology – were intended to operate autonomously. Indeed, the many warships tucked within the central hull were only ever meant to carry a handful of Namar. Priority had been given to Artificial Intelligence and cybernetic crew. The ships literally flew themselves. They just required . . . guidance.
The Amarax was no different as Cessqa single-handedly steered the colossus out of orbit.
She could see by the display that the Defiant remained attached to the front of the cylindrical ship via the Walkway. It would make no difference. The Amarax would plough through the smaller ship in much the same way a mosquito strikes a speeding truck on the highway. As if it were never there.
*
Lieutenant Kyle Banks spun about. "I'm reading a change in altitude," he said.
"Is the Amarax moving?" Jessica asked.
He checked the readouts on the helm station again. "Aye. And we're losing speed, falling toward its front face."
"Disengage the Walkway and back off!" King ordered.
"Aye!" Banks sounded back. His hands flew across the console, fingers keying controls like an expert pianist. Within seconds the Walkway had been jettisoned and the Defiant was tearing away from the oncoming Amarax.
"Red alert!" King ordered and buckled the safety harness on the captain's chair. "Charge the hull plating and hold off at one thousand kilometres. Get us some distance. I want every instrument trained on that vessel . . ."
"Aye!"
Jessica stared dead ahead at the mysterious craft and wondered just what it was they had woken from a thousand years' sleep. The giant black cylinder headed away from NA-45 and she knew that even though she'd issued an order to the contrary, there would only be one thing to do: pursue.
"Dollar was right. We've opened Pandora's box," she whispered, barely audible above the din of the bridge.
"Amarax gaining speed," Chang reported.
"Banks, scrap my original order. There's only one option here. Execute a pursuit course. Do what you have to do to keep up," she ordered. "Close the gap."
"Yes Ma'am."
The comm. unit came to life.
"Bridge, this is Commander Greene," his voice heavy with sadness. "They're all dead."
The Commander had gone to the sickbay shortly after the discovery that it was Cessqa who had left the Defiant, only to find Nurse Munoz dead down there. And Frank hadn't been the only one. Cessqa had left a breadcrumb trail of dead crew in her wake.
Jessica's jaw set with anger. She glared at the behemoth attempting to leave them behind. "Understood, Commander. Return to the bridge."
"Yes, Captain."
The channel closed.
We opened Pandora's box, Jessica thought. By the looks of things, we weren't the first. In either case, it's now our responsibility to close it again . . . and at what cost? How many more will die before I put an end to this?
"Contact the Amarax whichever way you can," King ordered. "Tell them – tell her – she has committed an act of war against the Terran Union. Stand down and prepare to be boarded."
Rayne nodded and set to work. Around Jessica, the bridge was suspended in a deep red light the colour of blood. An emergency klaxon whined somewhere. The crew manned their stations with determination and focus.
"Can we extrapolate their course?" King asked.
Chang set to work. She looked up from her display. "If I had to warrant a guess, based on their current trajectory out of the system, it would appear they're headed for the Chimera Cluster."
Chimera Cluster? Jessica asked herself. Where have I heard that before?
"Monitor their course changes," she ordered. "Banks, keep up. Don't let them get too much of a lead on us."
"Aye Captain," Banks said. Ahead of them, the Amarax continued to gain distance. "Requesting extra power from engineering."
"Do what you have to do."
2.
"Increase the gain," Chief Gunn told Lieutenant Belcher. "Let's see if we can give them another five percent."
Belcher's face grew tight with concentration as he focused on redirecting energy from other systems, and sending it directly to the engines. Already they were operating at one hundred fifteen percent output.
"Done. Try it," Belcher said.
Gunn's hands flew over her control station as she redirected the energy flow.
"Good work, Gary," she said. "Now keep an eye on it. If we start to see the energy levels spike, we'll have to dial it back. I don't care what they say."
"Last thing we need is an overload. Short of kick-starting a reaction with our bare hands, it'd take at least an hour to get this old bird back on her feet," Belcher said.
The Chief crossed her arms. "Lieutenant, that's not going to happen. Don't be so negative."
"Sorry," Belcher said.
The Chief began to walk away. The engineering section was a hive of activity. The reactor thrummed through the deck plating, surging with pulses of raw energy. She stopped, turned back around.
"Chief?" he asked, wondering why she'd turned back.
"One thing, Belcher," the Chief told him. "Less of the old. She takes it personally."
*
"Anything?" Jessica asked.
Rayne shook her head. "Nothing. Still trying, though."
Up ahead, the Amarax continued to speed away from them. "And no change in their heading? You think they're definitely headed for the Chimera Cluster?"
"Yes," Chang said. "Though I couldn't imagine what they'd want in there. Strange choice if you ask me. It's not exactly the safest locale in the galaxy."
Jessica couldn't agree more. She remembered it more fully now, from records she'd read back in her Academy days. The Chimera Cluster was not a place you travelled into lightly. For one thing, there were the accounts of Captain Driscoll's famous exploits in there aboard the Manhattan . . .
"However, it is the best place to be if you happen to be hiding something," Banks said from the helm. "Remember what Driscoll discovered in there, back in the day."
"It's no easy feat, navigating the Cluster. But if you know where you're going . . ." King said.
Commander Greene strode back onto the bridge. "Captain."
"Del. Grab a seat. It would appear they're headed for the Chimera Cluster," Jessica told him.
"Really?" he asked incredulously.
She nodded.
"And no answer to our hails?" Greene asked.
"None as yet. At least the Amarax doesn't appear to have any weapons. If it did, we'd probably be blown out of the sky by now. As it stands, I think we have that to be thankful for," Jessica said.
"No weapons," Chang said. "Apart from what's on the inside."
It hadn't exactly slipped King's mind that the Amarax had a third of its bulk filled to capacity with ships and other tech. Sure, the behemoth didn't have any external weaponry . . . as far as they could tell at that stage. That had obviously never been its intention. The Amarax was simply a vessel – an ark; a means of carrying a precious cargo not only through the harsh seas of space, but the currents of time. A vessel so big, so strong, no conventional weapon could harm it.
"Well, she slaughtered half a dozen of our crew to get back on that ship," Commander Greene spat. "I wouldn't put it past her to use some of it. In fact, I'd expect her to."
"You're probably right Del," Jessica said. "We have to bring this Cessqa in as soon as possible. Get some answers."
"If we can catch up with her," Greene noted.
*
The Amarax thundered beneath her. It was the trembling of an entire world. Cessqa walked to a nearby console and initiated the thawing sequence for the hibernation pods. All controls aboard the Amarax were simplistic, easy to use. The many systems of the giant cylinder were intended to be intuitive, to perform complex functions at the press of a button. And so it was with the hibernation pods.
Cessqa accessed the monitors in the sleeping chamber and made instant note of the empty pods.
The Amarax's sensor screens would have recorded any intruders. While the hibernation pods began their activation cycle, Cessqa turned her attention to a different control station, this one with a miniature holo-emitter atop of it. It crackled to life as she scanned the records for the point when the empty pods had been accessed.
Her silvery eyes bulged in surprise as she watched humanoid soldiers enter the Amarax, eventually finding the superstructure at the end that housed the bridge, engineering sections and hibernation pods.
They stole my people, she thought. With each passing moment she became more enraged. Her face twisted into a vile concoction of hatred and anger. They will pay the ultimate price for what they have done.
She knew those Namarians well. Takahan. Fojitia. Dubelok. All of them fine warriors; ripped from the protective hibernation pods as if they were babies torn from the womb. When the invaders from the Defiant had entered the third habitat, the Amarax had rightly activated Cessqa's pod. It was protocol. She, as leader, must be the one to wake the others. To assess the situation. But why had that not happened before? She could have stopped them . . .
And what had happened to those who'd been taken? How had the Union treated them? How long had they tortured her people until eventually dismembering them?
It is what I would have done. Tear them apart to see how their insides worked.
Cessqa slammed her fist down on the console. The metal buckled like a crushed can. It spat hot white sparks in all directions, the holo-emitter flickered and died.
She had questions but they'd have to wait.
It was time to go back to the hibernation chamber. Ranesh would be one of the first to come around, and she had a lot to tell him. It was not how they had expected to wake. Perhaps her people had been naive to expect those rousing them from a millennia's sleep to be Namarian. They should have considered the possibility that an alien race would stumble upon the Amarax and explore what was inside.
But what was done was done. Their work continued. Evidently, the last of the Namar had died away. Consigned to oblivion, like so much dust on the wind.
We are the last of our race, Cessqa thought. A sense of calm washed over her. Now the great work of our people continues. We will strike fear into the hearts of those who have forgotten us. And they will know us well when we have enslaved their people and desecrated their homeworlds.
Inside the chamber, Ranesh had indeed woken. The lid of the pod sat wide open. Ranesh lay still within it, but his eyes focused on her as she walked in. Cessqa went to his side. "Old friend."
Ranesh didn't say anything, but recognition showed in his pale white face.
"Our time has come again," Cessqa told him.
3.
Wilfred Gentry arrived on the bridge, and his eyes immediately fell upon the viewscreen. The impressive bulk of the Amarax continued to accelerate away from them as the Defiant struggled to keep up.
"Doctor," King said, turning to look at him. "What do you make of that?"
He swallowed. "Wow."
Commander Chang looked up from her station.
Greene coughed. "Very astute."
"Any idea as to their heading?" Gentry asked, oblivious to the strange looks he received from the crew.
"We believe the Chimera Cluster," King said.
"Interesting. Very interesting indeed."
"Care to elaborate as to why that'd be the case, Doctor? Apart from the obvious?"
"Well as you say, the Cluster is a very dangerous, mysterious region of space. Perfect for hiding in. Beloved by smugglers and pirates. However I can think of another reason Cessqa might be headed that direction . . ."
King's eyebrows rose. "Yes?"
"There is a record of Namar activity in the Cluster, prior to their downfall. It would seem that they had an unusual amount of interest in that region, for whatever reason," Gentry explained. "However no surveys of the Cluster have ever found anything. It could just be a myth."
"All stories start somewhere," Chang said. "Perhaps this myth will turn out to be more a case of historical fact."
"We'll see. Would you care to dredge the ship's archive, Doctor Gentry? See what you can find out?" Commander Greene asked him.
"Yes, yes, of course," Gentry said. He chose an empty seat at one of the auxiliary control points, located at the back of the bridge and set to work, using the station to dive into the Defiant's memory banks.
"Rayne, contact Admiral Grimshaw. Tell him what has happened here and advise that we are in pursuit," King asked her.
"Aye."
"Banks, how're we doing?"
"Pushing the engines as hard as I can, Captain," the helmsman answered. "We're still lagging behind, though."
"Keep at it," King said.
"Message sent," Rayne reported. "I'm awaiting a response."
"Okay, well, try our friend Cessqa again, will you?"
*
If the Amarax had been capable of receiving the Defiant's transmissions, Cessqa would not have known. The mighty vessel had not been constructed with that capability in mind.
Cessqa assisted Ranesh out of his pod, then stood aside while he came around fully. He stood, stumbled forward, fell against a console and waited there.
"It will pass," she told him.
"How long have we slept?" he asked as he tried to shake off the fuzzy, sleepy feeling.
Cessqa's face hardened. "Too long, my friend."
"Our people?" he asked, turning to look at her through bleary eyes.
"Gone."
Ranesh didn't say anything. Cessqa moved off. "And yet, we survive. The last of our race."
"We can bring them back . . ." Ranesh said.
Cessqa turned back around. "That is my plan. As we speak, the Amarax is headed for the Chimera Cluster. There we will make contact with our people."
Her right-hand's face brightened. "The Third Quarter!"
"Yes. Yes, the Third Quarter. We will bring them here. And then we will rebuild what has been lost. Reclaim what has been taken from us. Our race will once more, reign supreme!"
Her words seemed to lift him up, give him strength. At first all had seemed lost, but now . . . her talk of the Third Quarter had imbued Ranesh with a new energy. It washed away the fog of hibernation as a rising sun pushes back the frost.
"What are your orders?"
"Wake the others. Wake them all. And hurry. The enemy are in pursuit. I killed several of their number before I woke you. Backwards humanoids with soft flesh and warm blood. They will prove a nuisance."
"What will you do about them? Surely they cannot be allowed to follow us into the Cluster . . ."
"No, they cannot," Cessqa said. She walked to the doorway, half turned back. "Leave them to me."
4.
"Incoming communication, Captain," Rayne said. "It's Admiral Grimshaw."
"On the overheads," King said.
The speakers came to life. "Captain? What's the situation?"
"The Namar are very much alive, Admiral. I'm having our mission logs sent to you as we speak so that you can review what has happened here. But let me give you the short version. One of them has killed several of my crew and is now in the process of taking the Amarax . . . sorry, the Enigma . . . into the Chimera Cluster. For what reason, we're unsure at this time."
There was a long pause on the other end. "Any response to hails?"
"None whatsoever. Either they are unable to respond, or unwilling."
"Don't let them out of your sight, Captain. I'll do what I can from here, try and get you some support. In the meantime just hang on in there."
"Thank you Admiral," Jessica said.
Rayne closed the channel.
"Mister Jackson, target the Amarax, all forward guns. I want a few rounds across her bow," King ordered. "Let her know we mean business."
"Aye," Jackson said. He took control of the Defiant's weapons. "Ready."
"Captain, no offense but do you think a hostile act is the best decision? Might it not make matters worse?" Dr. Gentry asked.
"Doctor, she's already committed several hostile acts. The evidence of those are right now being put into cold storage. We can debate the rights and wrongs of this later," she snapped. She gave Jackson the nod. "Fire."
The forward batteries opened up, spraying streams of fire in the direction of the Amarax. They brushed past either side of the huge cylinder without actually hitting it. Jackson's aim was perfectly timed and controlled.
"Stop," King ordered.
The guns stilled.
"Anything?"
Chang looked up. "No change."
*
"The others have woken," Ranesh said as he entered the control room. Cessqa watched on the display as the Defiant fired her weapons in their direction. Obviously intended to miss them, unless whoever was at the controls happened to be blind.
"Good."
"They will be ready for duty within the hour."
"Fortunate, as we will need them," Cessqa said. She accessed the controls to the Amarax's numerous systems and functions. Ranesh watched, his eyes growing wide as she made her intentions apparent.
"Is that wise?" he asked.
"It is essential to do so, to buy you time. The Amarax will be in your hands. It will be your responsibility to take the cylinder into the Cluster. I will deal with the humanoids and ensure they do not follow," Cessqa told him. "I'm sure I can become a necessary diversion."
"I did not mean to question your wisdom," Ranesh said with a bow.
She laid a hand on his shoulder. "Your concern is for our people, Ranesh. That is why I trust you the most. I am going to the Jandala. Have both Gelvin and Risa meet me there as soon as possible. I will prepare the ship and wake the drones."
*
"Captain!" Banks yelled.
King's head snapped up at the right time. On the viewscreen, the Amarax had started to change direction.
"Slow down, Banks," King said.
The Amarax turned side-on to the Defiant, all sixty kilometres of her.
"What's she doing?" Greene asked.
As if to answer him, the cylinder did something they'd only assumed could be done in their initial assessment of the vessel.
She slowly separated into three separate cylinders, connected to a central spine like three wheels on an axle. With relative grace, the Amarax opened up before them.
"My God . . ." Greene said.
Jessica's throat went suddenly dry. It took her two attempts to order a full stop. "Hold position. Midships."
"Full stop, aye," Banks said as he fired the forward braking thrusters.
Gentry got up from the station he'd been working from and came to stand next to her seat. King glanced up at him. "Incredible," he said.
"Doctor," she said in a hushed voice. "I didn't mean to snap at you. But I think you can appreciate the situation is beyond the purview of academic curiosity. This is no longer a research mission."
"Yes, Captain. I understand. It doesn't stop it feeling wrong, somehow."
"I know," she agreed. She turned her attention back to the viewscreen. The cylinder continued to open.
Now what will she do?
5.
The Jandala, located in the central section of the cylinder, was a long ship, thick at the front, tapering off toward it's propulsion systems at the back. It resembled a large horn, quite featureless save for the many modules that adorned its outer shell as smooth bumps. An ice pick fashioned from rough stone, perhaps.
Like the Amarax itself, it's front end was a relative dead end. The blunt edge of a cylinder, perfectly spherical yet flat. Cessqa eyed it with pride as the tram took her from the aft section and across the brief gulf of vacuum that had opened between each section of the cylinder. She marvelled at the ingenuity of her race, at their tenacity in dreaming of such a vessel as the Amarax and the wonders stored within it.
Was there anything its designers had not thought of? From a distance, the cylindrical body of the Amarax appeared to only have one axis upon which everything was connected. But from closer inspection, one would see the great many other shafts by which the pieces of the cylinder were joined. It was along one of these that her tram sped, and she gazed out at the view of the Defiant.
How startled they must be, watching as the Amarax transforms before their very eyes!
Now she was in the central cylinder, where her people had crammed every kind of ship and weapon they could possibly think of. The Jandala was attached to the hull with docking clamps, holding it in place regardless of the gravity conditions aboard the Amarax. The warning sounds blared around her, instructing her that C2 was now open to bare space.
While the fore and aft sections remained sealed, air tight to preserve life systems, the central cylinder was never intended to remain such. Due to its very nature, it had to be open to space at times. Now the Amarax had extended itself fully. Not that the absence of breathable atmosphere mattered much to her.
Cessqa stepped off the tram, surveyed her surroundings and headed straight for the Jandala. Both Gelvin and Risa would be there soon enough. It was several kilometres walk from where she'd got off, and she had time to order her thoughts.
First, to activate the Jandala's systems. The drones that would tend to the Jandala's systems. Not only did the vessel operate by means of a vast, intelligent computer, but the use of artificially created drones negated the need for a vast Namarian crew. Still, Gelvin was an accomplished pilot. As a matter of preference, Cessqa chose to have a subordinate actually operate the Jandala. And as for Risa, well . . . there would, no doubt, be time for her many abilities. But for the time being, Risa would prove useful in monitoring the activities of the drones themselves as they scurried about, performing their many duties. The ship's main intelligence was more than capable of doing so, but once again Cessqa knew the advantage of having a living being in charge where possible.
Cessqa arrived at the side of the Jandala and accessed a control panel. Seconds later a circular hatch opened before her and she stepped inside. The Amarax had already fired up the Jandala, if only partially. Although potentially wasteful of energy, it did so to all vessels once the cylinders had separated. Battle readiness was the key. Taking the Jandala, rather than any of the other similar ships at her disposal was merely a matter of choice for Cessqa.
The drones had been spawned and activated. Dull grey in colour and lobster-like in appearance. The drones were the same design as those that occupied the rest of the Amarax, keeping everything clean and in full working order. They scurried back and forth around her, busily readying the Jandala for flight. The creatures mindlessly avoided Cessqa as she strode toward the command deck.
The lights flickered to life though her eyes had no real need for their illumination to see, capable as they were to see in pitch black conditions.
For a ship her size, the Jandala would be ready to disembark from the innards of its mother ship within minutes. Once Gelvin and Risa were aboard, Cessqa knew she'd be ready to leave.
Let the humanoids prey to whatever god they happen to worship, she thought, walking onto the command deck. It won't make a difference. I doubt they have ever encountered such a relentless force as me before. You cannot stop thunder once you have seen the flash in the sky above . . .
6.
"Movement!" Banks yelled from the front of the bridge. All eyes turned to the viewscreen where something emerged from the Amarax.
"Is that . . ." Greene said, his voice trailing off.
Jessica's eyes widened. "Yes. Everyone, strap yourselves in. Lieutenant, hold midships."
"Aye."
The horn shape of the Jandala appeared, her grey hull under the shadow of the Amarax's bulk. She drifted away from C2, falling clear of the Amarax fully before showing signs of propulsive power.
"Enemy vessel travelling away from the Amarax," Chang reported.
"Track her," King said. "Do we detect weapon signatures?"
Chang looked up from her readouts. "Yes. Energy weapons of a type I've not seen before."
Jessica stifled the urge to swallow. The new ship, the one shaped like a horn, was almost the same length as the Defiant. Where she tapered off at the back end, there was a blinding white light. She moved with surprising speed and grace, almost unburdened by her considerable mass.
"Shall I lock weapons?" Jackson asked.
"Do so," King said. "But under no circumstances are you to fire until I give the word. This isn't like giving a few warning shots. This one can fire back."
"Understood, Ma'am."
Commander Greene looked across at Rayne. "Ensign, attempt to make contact with the new ship. See if they pick up this time."
"Yes, sir," Rayne said. She set to work, but moments later glanced up and shook her head. "Nothing."
"I didn't think they would," King said.
"Worth a try, boss," Greene said. He turned back to the viewscreen.
The new ship circled around. Looping back on itself from where it had left the Amarax . . . and headed straight for the Defiant.
"I could be wrong, but they look like they're making a play for us," Greene remarked.
"You could be right," Jessica said. "Banks, full reverse, ten degrees to port."
*
The Defiant veered back and, from where Cessqa stood watching, reversed and veered to the right. Risa had arrived and was below decks, monitoring the work of the drones. Gelvin stood before the helm controls, both hands either side of a giant orb. It was a clear ball, suspended above the dull metal of the main console itself. It could be turned, manipulated, and yet not moved out of place. The orb hovered where it was. Gelvin moved the transparent ball minutely and the Jandala responded in kind, making a course adjustment as they bore down on the Defiant.
"Excellent," Cessqa said behind him. She stood, watching everything unfold on a large holodisplay, her hands clasped behind her back.
"Your orders?" Gelvin asked.
"Target their starboard side. Fire on my command."
*
As the Jandala raced toward the Defiant, the Amarax closed back up. The three sections of its cylindrical body slid back toward one another on their axis. Ranesh stepped away from the controls to monitor the progress of the crew. By now they had all woken fully, and were in various stages of adjusting to their situation.
Ranesh watched on the holographic display as the Jandala closed in on the Defiant. Cessqa would preoccupy them now.
Ranesh ensured the Amarax knew where to go next, plotting their course into the computer, then left to aid what consisted of the last of their race.
Gelvin and Risa had woken quickly, ready for action. It really depended on the individual. For some it took far longer.
No doubt why she chose them, Ranesh reflected. It doesn't surprise me that Risa would rise so fast. Would anything less really be expected from one of Namar's finest?
Ranesh left the bridge. Once she was sealed shut again, the Amarax once more turned her attention to the Chimera Cluster. The giant cylinder would pilot them safely away from NA-45 without incident while he focused on getting their people up to speed.
Now is only the beginning, he mused. Our work begins here.
*
"Captain, the Amarax is moving off," Chang warned. "Shall I launch a probe?"
On the viewscreen, the giant cylinder of the Amarax moved off at speed while the cone-shaped vessel fast approached. Face on, it looked like a dagger plunging straight at them, a knife in the literal dark of the void.
"Will the probe survive the ravages of the Cluster? I mean, there can be no doubt that's where they're going," King asked.
"If it attaches to the hull somehow . . ." Chang said.
"It is essential we follow it for as long as we can," Gentry said, now seated back at his terminal behind her. "We must know why they are headed for the Cluster."
"Understood Doctor. Do it," King told Chang. "Whatever you have to. But make it fast, Commander. That thing's getting away from us already."
"Aye," Chang said.
"Yeah and by the looks of things, we won't have a chance to follow either," Greene said. He pointed at the screen as the Namarian vessel sped toward them.
7.
"Did you see that?"
Cessqa did not answer immediately. She watched as the tiny device launched from the Defiant headed for the Amarax, yet did not impact the larger vessel. She examined it in detail, the Jandala's sensors giving her all the information on it she needed within seconds. She saw that it was some kind of probe.
So the humanoids are a lot smarter than I first thought . . .
They clearly intended to have the device follow the Amarax while they dealt with her. Interesting, although they should have known it would not survive its encounter with the Chimera Cluster. Metal balls filled with sensitive equipment never fared well in the unpredictable depths of the Cluster. It was why her people had chosen it as the location of the Third Quarter. If the Amarax was the Namar's ark, then the Third Quarter was their last refuge. The Amarax gave them a chance to survive, to live on as a race, whereas the Third Quarter went a step further. It had been intended to offer them a second chance . . .
"Pay it no mind," she said. "It is trivial. Target the enemy."
Gelvin reached over to another smaller sphere, ran a hand over it. "Locked."
"Fire," Cessqa ordered. Gelvin didn't pause to consider her order. His fingertips found the necessary controls, accessed them, made it happen. Simple as that. The front weapons ports snapped open and let loose a stream of highly charged energy bursts that spiralled away from the blunt end of the Jandala in a flurry of angry green sparks.
*
"Brace for impact!" Commander Greene yelled. The Namar bursts ploughed into the Defiant, impacting against the hull in multiple locations. The cacophony of explosions shook the ship from bow to stern. An alarm whined and died somewhere nearby, but Jessica barely registered it.
"Damage to hull plating," Chang reported.
"Return fire," King ordered, barely missing a beat. "All tubes."
Jackson's hand went to the firing lever. "Ready."
"Fire."
"Aye," Jackson said and unleashed the Defiant's arsenal of deadly warheads. They burst free from the Defiant and headed directly for the Jandala. The bridge crew watched expectantly as the Defiant's warheads struck the Namarian vessel's side in flashes of light. But as the intense brightness of the impacts faded, it was clear they'd barely touched the other ship's defences.
"I'm not registering damage," Chang said.
"Rayne, attempt contact again. We have to try and reason with them," King said.
We can't exchange blows like this . . .
Olivia tried, face tight with concentration, hand to her ear as she tried to hail them on every available channel. She looked up, perplexed. "They're not answering . . . however I have found a channel that seems to receive what we send. So I do believe they hear us, Captain."
King looked at Commander Greene, who silently agreed with her. "Put it on audio, Ensign. Translate."
On the viewscreen, the horn-shaped vessel swung about. The Defiant continued to back off, twisting gradually off to one side. Ordinarily Jessica would have ordered a full offensive manoeuvre to close the gap between them. But there was doubt there. She truly wanted to end it before it even got started, despite what Cessqa had done to her people. Killing them like that, as if they were nothing . . .
Even with that, she still felt compelled to give her a chance to talk it over. Was it all just an unfortunate misunderstanding?
Afterall, we did just break in, Jessica thought. And there's the issue of the hibernation pods that were empty when we got there. Who got to the Amarax before us? Who stole that crew away and vanished without a trace?
Perhaps there was a chance, even a slim one, of pulling it back somehow.
Did Cessqa have justification for being hostile toward them? Why, yes she did. But that did not condone the senseless murder of the Defiant's crew . . .
"This is Captain Jessica King of the starship Defiant. Respond."
A faint crackle of static hummed over the speakers, but no answer to her message.
"I know you receive. I know you can hear me," Jessica said.
*
Gelvin turned to look at Cessqa as the human's voice echoed around the room, translated into Namarian.
"Shall I continue to fire?" he asked her.
The humanoids had shot back and though it had barely made a dent in their energy shields, it demonstrated to Cessqa the humanoid's willingness to exchange blows. When hit, they'd hit right back.
"No," Cessqa said.
"I know you hear me. Please, let us meet and discuss this. I am sure our two people's can find even ground . . ." the humanoid female said on the other end.
Cessqa accessed the Jandala's communication relays.
"I am Cessqa, commander of the Jandala. Do I address Captain King herself?"
"You do."
Cessqa remembered the woman from before, by her bedside. Strong, confident. She would not bend easily.
"I have a proposal," she said. "For Captain King, the invader of the Namarian's territory."
"I am listening," obviously bristling at her mention of being an 'invader.'
"Surrender now, and I may spare your lives. You have committed an act of war against the Namar, one I do not take lightly. However, on this occasion I will be lenient."
"Utterly unacceptable," Captain King said. "We have committed no such act. We were exploring an ancient artefact to determine its purpose."
"So you deny. And you lie to cover your imposition on my people. Your race breached the Amarax before. This was not the first time. This conversation is as dead as your crew will be, Captain," Cessqa said and closed the channel.
She looked across at Gelvin. "Ready the weapons. Indulge yourself. Obliterate them."
8.
The Jandala hit again and again. Banks took them forward, full thrust while Jackson attempted to fire back. There seemed no pause in the Jandala's weapon fire. It came in a steady stream, smashing into the hull plating. The Defiant reeled.
"Evasive!" King yelled. "Get us some room. Jackson, load all tubes."
"Yes Ma'am," he said. "Ready."
"Fire!"
The warheads veered away from the Defiant, pummelled the Jandala's aft section, where her hull came to a point around her engine exhaust.
"Minor damage to their defences," Chang reported.
"Jeez," King said as the Defiant swooped past the Jandala. There was a break in the enemy fire.
"Chang, the status of our probe?" Greene asked her.
The Commander checked on her screen. "As expected. Riding shotgun with the Amarax, gaining distance from us and holding steady."
With that, Greene turned to Jessica. "I think we should get out of the open. We're at a disadvantage here. That thing can run rings around us, all the while hitting with everything they've got. All we can do right now is try and keep up. We need to level the playing field."
It made sense. In order to ensure the safety of the Amarax, Cessqa would follow them wherever they went. Perhaps in the hope of destroying them. Or, for that matter, to merely keep them occupied long enough so that the Amarax could disappear.
And he was right. The whole time they stuck around in open space, they were a sitting target. Whatever Jessica lacked in terms of firepower she made up for in terms of her experience and gifts as a commanding officer – if given the chance to use them. Cessqa, from the looks of things, relied on the advancements of her tech.
Jessica, on the other hand, relied on her people first and foremost. The one advantage Cessqa had was a more powerful gun. They needed to lead her somewhere she'd have difficulty using it.
"What's sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander," Dr. Gentry said. King and Greene turned to look at him. The doctor managed half a grin. "The odds will be even."
Chang stifled a chuckle, her eyes still focused on her data readouts. "Nice."
The Defiant took another round of hits from the Jandala, breaking the momentary reverie of Gentry's humour.
"Where do you suggest, Del?" she asked Commander Greene.
Greene was about to answer when Lieutenant Jackson piped up. "Captain, might I make a suggestion?"
Both King and Greene exchanged looks before she said, "By all means."
"There is the Mobius Formation, not far away. A short Jump. The probe works, we can afford to allow the Amarax to fall out of immediate sensor range and leave it to track their progress," Jackson said.
"What do you think, Doctor?" Jessica asked Dr. Gentry.
"The Formation could be just what you're looking for," he said. "Indeed, both ships will be impaired to a fashion."
"You can't get fairer than that. How far to the Formation?" Greene asked.
"A half hour Jump."
Greene raised an eyebrow. "It'd be the perfect place to conceal the Defiant."
"Agreed. And I see your point of fairness. As much as it'll screw with their sensors, it'll do the same to ours."
"A word of warning," Gentry chimed in. "The sheer amount of radiation in the Formation is immense, from what I remember reading about it . . ."
The Commander nodded. "Yet, I get a gut feeling we'll somehow use that to our advantage. Knowing the Captain."
Jessica smirked. "Del, you read me like a book."
She gave the go-ahead for Banks to plot them a course directly to the Mobius Formation.
"Aye," he said. "Spooling the Drive."
"Good call on that, Jackson. The Formation is just the right mix of stormy weather we need," King said. The Defiant shook violently from another series of hits. "Now get ready to fire those weapons. We've gotta keep them interested, after all."
9.
Cessqa monitored the Amarax's progress away from the conflict with satisfaction. She'd managed to hold Captain King's attention completely. The last of the Namar were headed for the Chimera Cluster. There they'd wait for her return before continuing with their mission . . . with what needed to be done.
The Third Quarter would also be waiting.
"Direct hits," Gelvin said.
"The humans are strong," Cessqa said. "But those who stand strongest, fall with more noise. They can't last forever."
"Bringing us back around," Gelvin said, turning the sphere to the right. The Jandala leaned to starboard in response.
*
"They're coming about for another pass!" Banks yelled.
"Captain this is the Chief," Gunn's brusque voice bellowed out of the overheads. "We can't take a constant barrage like this."
"I'm aware of that Chief."
Banks glanced down at his readouts. "Jump Drive spooled. Ready to go on your command, Captain."
"Chief, just hold onto something down there. We're Jumping. Bridge out."
On the viewscreen, the grey dagger of the Jandala finished its turn and headed straight for them.
"Fire all guns at the Jandala," King ordered. "Hold off on our warheads. Just batteries for now."
"Aye," Jackson said. He manned the controls with vigour, the Defiant rumbling beneath them as their guns vibrated. Streams of artillery flew from the Defiant's exteriour, fizzling against the oncoming Jandala's shield.
"That'll hold their attention. Mister Banks, take us to Jump," King said.
"Yes Ma'am," Banks said with relief. He threw the Jump controls. The bridge seemed to stretch out momentarily before snapping back as they leapt away.
*
"Our shield weakens," Cessqa said with surprise close to disbelief.
It wasn't what the Defiant fired at them, but the sheer volume of it. More a case of bombardment, than the extent to which the human's weaponry packed a punch.
"Firing –" Gelvin said, just as the Defiant disappeared from view.
The last of the Union ship's fire peppered the front of their energy shield, then all was still. Their quarry gone, unexpected silence engulfed them.
Cessqa hurriedly accessed the ship's scanners to determine the Defiant's course. It took a mere handful of seconds.
"Pursuit course," Cessqa said.
It flashed up in front of Gelvin. He re-oriented the Jandala to suit, then activated the Jump.
The stars opened up, expanded to become long streaks of light. And past the wall of darkness into which the Jandala rushed, their prey raced ahead of them.
*
"Might I have a word?" Dr. Gentry asked her. Jessica turned to look up at him.
"Of course, doctor," she said. "Let's go to my quarters."
Gentry went on ahead of her. Jessica turned to Commander Greene and gave him instructions to inform her as soon as they neared the Formation.
"Aye," Greene said. He took the captain's chair.
"I won't be long," King said. She joined Dr. Gentry and left the bridge.
*
She showed him to a seat. "Drink, Doctor?"
He shook his head. "No thank you."
Jessica sat opposite him and unbuttoned the top of her uniform tunic so she could relax for a moment.
"You're not about to strip off, are you Captain?" Gentry asked nervously.
The man's fruity as a nut cake, Jessica thought. What must go through his mind? How can he seem so normal and on the level one minute, but act like a complete freak the next?
"Unfortunately not, Doctor. No possibility of that in here, I'm afraid," she said.
He visibly breathed a sigh of relief. "Ah. That's good."
"So, uh, what's it about?" she asked him.
Dr. Gentry shifted in his seat. "Have you ever heard of a writer from Earth's past called Isaac Asimov?"
She shook her head. "Sorry."
"It's quite all right. He and those of his time have since passed into the realm of myth. Their writings now would seem juvenile, compared with what we know about the galaxy. However, Asimov and his contemporaries were truly great minds. Unique for their time," he said.
"Is there a connection here, Doctor?"
"Yes. I am reminded of something Asimov said once. It's my favourite quote. It goes: 'It is change, continuing change, inevitable change, that is the dominant factor in society today. No sensible decision can be made without taking into account not only the world as it is, but the world as it will be.'"
The point of Gentry's reverie – if indeed there was one – was wasted on her.
Jessica rubbed her eyes. "I'm sorry, Doctor, again . . . I'm just not seeing the point."
"We are at a time of change, Captain. Do you not sense it? The war with the Draxx is ended. The Union is, for the first time in generations, without an ongoing conflict. It is lost," Gentry said.
"That's not true. We're going back to exploration. To charting the unknown," Jessica said. "Peacekeeping."
"No. You're wrong. With all due respect, Captain, the Terran Union finds itself with nothing to do. Twiddling its thumbs. And rightly so, eh? What else are we meant to do?"
"As I said –"
He waved his hands at her, agitated. "Whoever stole aboard the Enigma did so with the intention of furthering their own warmongering urges. Mark my words. There is a change coming, and I fear not for the better."
"You're going into the realms of conspiracy theories now," she said, getting worked up herself. Who was he to lecture her, his opinions based on wild assumptions as to what he viewed as the truth? "Frankly, I don't even see why we're having this conversation."
"Captain, listen to me. There's something much larger going on here. A high ranking official must have ordered the kidnap of those Namarian crew. Why? Where were they taken? For what purpose? What happened to them?"
"For now, that's beyond the scope of this mission," Jessica said.
"No! No! It is at the very heart of it!" Gentry yelled. He stood, fists clenched at his sides. He remained that way for a moment, then realized he had overreacted. His hands loosened, his face became less flushed and he calmed down. "Sorry."
Now it was Jessica's turn to stand up. "Finished?"
"Sorry," he said again. He licked his top lip. "Only, you must see reason. You must see sense. This is the start of something, I feel it. War is in the Union's best interests, Captain. Without one, you are lost. Just one big organisation, united against nothing. As a race, we have to have something to fight for. That means fighting against something."
"So what are you saying? This has been done to start a war?"
"That is precisely what I am saying. Whoever is behind this has, most likely, already decided on who will take the place of the Draxx," Gentry said.
Jessica nodded. "And that would be illegal."
"So the big question will be, Captain, whether you're on one side or the other."
10.
The Mobius Formation is a hurricane of pulsar winds. It is held together, contained – prevented from dispersing by the gravitational pull of the pulsars at its core; highly magnetized, rotating neutron stars that emit wave after wave of electromagnetic radiation.
They beat like multiple hearts, pulsing in turn, making the Formation shimmer. One of the most beautiful, yet deadly, nebulas in known space. From afar, the Mobius Formation looks like a stormy sea, the gases themselves shining like mercury. The pulsar wind, powered by injection of magnetic fields and particles from the central pulsars makes for a thing of beauty on nature's part.
But upon closer inspection, its true self is revealed. This is no ocean of silver. Lightning arcs from one side to the other, causing massive amounts of neutron radiation and eddies within the gases themselves and the pulsars at its centre strobe, making visual navigation of the Formation torture on the eyes of a wayward traveller.
In a way, the stars at its heart killed each other. Formed pulsars. Now they leak their poison into space, into the dense nebula by which they are smothered.
In the earliest days of humanity's star watching, such regions had announced their presence in the form of clicks detected by ground-based astronomers. But now, here it is: an immense obstruction in the pathways of space; a great, hulking cloud of almost fluidic material, powered by fallen suns.
And into this devastating brew of material fly two starships, one in pursuit of the other. The Mobius Formation is no longer confined to being the staging ground of nature's titanic conflicts . . . but humanity's, too.
PART II
The Mobius Formation
11.
"Exiting the Jump in five . . . four . . . three . . . two . . ." Banks decelerated from the Jump, easing them back into normal space. What they emerged into was no mere empty canvas of void and stars. The Mobius Formation dominated the immediate area, filling the viewscreen left to right. It had been described as both a silver ocean and a giant storm. Both could be seen as true.
"Wow," Rayne remarked. Then she scowled at the rush of noise in her earpiece. the screaming of stars among radio waves. She pulled it free from her ear. "That hurt."
"There is unprecedented radiation in there, just as the doctor said," Chang reported. "I've never had the chance to record so much in person before. It's deadly."
"You're telling me," Commander Greene said. "Nobody goes into the Mobius Formation without having to."
"Apart from us," King said.
*
"I see them already," Cessqa said as Gelvin prepared to exit the Jump directly behind the Defiant. "And I know where they're going."
"It's not advisable," Gelvin said. "It's not a rational plan."
Cessqa looked up from the holographic display. "They're not a rational species. Primitive in almost every way. They'll go to their deaths. And we'll push them there."
She did not have to explain to Gelvin, or Risa, that the same radiation that would slowly cook the humans within the Defiant wouldn't affect the Namarians the same way. They could withstand the excessive energies of the Formation far more than the humans with their soft, pink bodies.
"Returning to normal space," Gelvin said.
"Good. Prepare to continue our assault."
*
Commander Greene leaned in close. "Captain, you do know we can't stay in there forever. The radiation levels . . ."
She held up a hand to stop him. "I know, Del. I know. Believe me, I don't plan on hanging around any longer than necessary."
"The Jandala is approaching to aft," Chang reported. "Bringing weapons to bear."
"Banks, how long until we reach the Formation?" Greene asked.
The helmsman checked. "Thirty seconds, Commander. I'm pushing her hard as I can. Shame you can't just Jump in there . . ."
"Not unless you want to demolecularise," Chang remarked.
"Full power to aft hull plating," King ordered. "Ensign, contact the Chief and ask her to give our engines a little boost. Whatever she can do."
"Aye," Rayne said.
"They are firing," Chang said.
"Brace for impact," Greene advised as the Defiant took the hits to its aft section.
The Formation loomed ever closer, a deep mixture of greys and silvers illuminated from within by powerful bursts of electric blue. The afterglow of each one rippled outward, through the surrounding gases. It looked completely alien in there, a cosmic brew of toxic material that any artist would have gave his right arm to study and paint.
Jessica remembered that it had nearly been assigned the name The Medusa Formation for just that reason. Beautiful to look at but, in reality, inherently dangerous.
"The Chief said she'll do what she can," Rayne said.
"It is a shame we couldn't risk a short Jump burst," Greene said echoing Banks's sentiment although he too was fully aware of the fact that what stopped them Jumping inside the Formation also stopped them travelling at such speed in close proximity to it.
"Ten seconds," Banks said. "We'll have to slow down once we're inside."
"Not until you've breached a million kilometres," Jessica said.
Banks looked over his shoulder in surprise. "Cap . . ."
"Not until. You have your order," she warned him. "We need to gain some distance. She can take it."
"Hope you're right," Greene muttered so only she could hear.
So do I, Jessica didn't say aloud as the Defiant ploughed straight into the Mobius Formation head first, the dense clouds of matter smashing into the forward hull.
Hear me old girl? Do me proud and hold together . . .
12.
"Captain, we have an incoming transmission from the Jandala," Rayne said.
"Go ahead," Jessica told her.
The speakers popped and crackled, the sound fading in and out.
"I'm boosting the gain to audio," Rayne said. "But I don't know how long it'll last. It could go any time."
"The farther we get into this soup . . ." Greene said.
"Captain King of the Defiant," a voice said on the other end. "This is your opponent."
"Let's cut the formality of introductions. What do you want?"
"You have a hostile side to you, Captain. That is unexpected."
"Really? I find it hard to believe you honestly expected anything different. You are responsible for the murder of my crew. And I will see to it that you answer for your crimes. Regardless of your reasons. We do not accept the death of our own lightly."
"My crimes, you say?" Cessqa laughed on the other end. It was not a warm, friendly laugh. It seemed to come from nowhere, as if it consisted of little more than air. No humour there in the slightest. "And what of the crimes your people have committed against mine?"
Jessica frowned. "I'm not sure our actions constitute the same thing."
"Captain, we could discuss this issue at length. But I have neither time nor patience to do so. You have made war against the Namar. However, I'll give you one last chance to stop needless bloodshed. Hold position and offer your vessel for surrender, or suffer the consequences."
"This is going nowhere." Jessica made a cut signal gesture at Olivia Rayne, who promptly closed the channel between the two ships.
"Well, that was friendly," Greene quipped.
"You're telling me."
Rayne looked up. "I didn't need to close the channel, Captain. Our comm. system is now down."
"Thank you, Ensign," Jessica said.
"Yeah, that's great. Just great," Greene muttered. "No calls in or out. We're on our own."
Jessica bit her lip.
*
Cessqa scowled at the wall of static around her, then shut the external communication feed off.
Gelvin watched her expectantly. His commander folded her lithe arms in front of her chest.
"So?" he asked.
She watched the Defiant disappear from view, concealed by the dense, silvery fog of the Formation.
"They have made their choice." She drew a deep breath. "They choose death."
13.
"Slow to one-fifth thruster power. Ten degrees to port, then hold our course," Jessica said. She unbuckled herself and stood. It felt good to stretch, to move around a bit. In all, it felt good to get some reprieve from being confined to the chair for so long.
One of the reasons she was so glad Dr. Clayton's treatment for her MS had worked so well. The thought of living her life in a wheelchair . . .
"I'm going to fetch a drink and stretch my legs," she said. "Commander Chang, you have the bridge. The first sign of the Jandala, you call me back up here."
"Sure will Captain," Chang said, assuming the captain's chair.
"Del, why don't you come with me?" Jessica asked. It's wasn't so much a question as an order. "I've a feeling you could do with a walk, too."
Greene looked around at the others on the bridge, then stood. "Yeah."
*
"So tell me why you really wanted me out here with you," he said when they were an entire deck away from the bridge.
"Do I need to?"
The Commander's own thoughts turned to the mercury-eyed menace hunting them down. She was out there, nearby. Hidden as they were, in clouds of toxic gases and ionised liquid plasmas.
"I suppose not," he said.
"It's pretty clear she's trying everything she can to ensure we don't follow the Enigma, or the Amarax . . . or whatever the hell you want to call it," Jessica said. "So she's followed us all the way out here."
"Wants it to look like she's only in it for the fight, when she's really protecting that thing," Greene said.
"Exactly. The question is, how far will she go?"
"Do you mean, whether or not she'll see this through to the end, or give up when the time's right?"
"Yes. Personally, I feel as though she won't leave here not knowing what's become of us. It'll plague her," Jessica said. "She seems the type."
"I think I agree with you," the Commander said.
Jessica sniggered. "Well, I'm glad."
"I didn't mean it like that, and you know it," he said. "From what I read about them, they were a true conquering race. Much like the Draxx in a way. Cold-blooded, ruthless and cunning."
"She's definitely all of those, and more," Jessica said. They arrived at the Officer's mess and grabbed a coffee. "Here, let's sit down for a minute."
The room was entirely empty, all hands at their posts, no doubt waiting for the next bombardment from the Jandala. Although it felt strange for them both to be in there, as if there were nothing going on, since the Jandala was elsewhere . . . Now was as good a time as any to take a quick break.
"Ah, that hits the spot," Greene said as he took a long swallow of hot, sweet coffee. "I didn't realise how dry my mouth was."
"I know what you mean," Jessica said. "After this we'll head down to engineering, see how the Chief's doing."
"Yeah."
"It's getting serious between you two, isn't it? Between you and Meryl?" she asked, changing the subject for a moment.
The Commander's face grew serious. "Yeah. Yeah it is. I'm mad about her, Jess. Smitten as a kitten."
She laughed. "You do go well together, I'll give you that."
"Thanks."
They drank their coffee. The Defiant's steady rhythm felt reassuring as it reverberated through the deck, in the very chairs they sat on, gently vibrating the table their coffee cups sat on. It meant her heart beat as strong as it always had.
Commander Greene looked sideways at the twinkling lights beyond the viewport. He looked almost wistful, longing.
"Da dee da da, da dee dee . . ." he sang softly, barely audible.
Jessica's brows rose in surprise. "Del, I never took you for a singer."
He laughed. "I'm not. It's just something my Mother used to sing to me."
"Really?"
"You don't recognise it?"
She shook her head.
"Da dee da da, da dee dee," he hummed again. "Star of wonder, star of night . . ."
"Oh. What is it? Where's it from?"
"An old hymn or something. I dunno. I've never forgotten it, though. All these years, and I still find myself humming it in the shower," the Commander said. He looked down at the coffee cup in his hands, bashful. "Mother used to sing it all the time, like a comfort. Silly, really."
"No it's not. At least you have that memory of her," Jessica said. She didn't need to continue.
I didn't know my own Mother. I wish I had something like that to remember her by, she thought as she followed his gaze to the cosmic blanket beyond the confines of the Defiant. I wish I could see her face, hear her voice whenever I looked at the stars. All I see is what's been taken away from me. A dark void, filled with lights. Some of those I've known and lost shining among them.
"So anyway, what about you?" the Commander asked her, changing the subject to something less maudlin.
She couldn't stop the shock registering on her face. "Me? What d'you mean?"
"You know. I never hear you talk about your own love life. Do you even have one?"
"Del, if I didn't know you any better I'd be offended by that," she said with a chuckle. Jessica could feel the heat rising to her cheeks. "Well, I don't ever really think about it. There's nobody at the minute, obviously . . ."
"Has there ever been?" he asked her quietly.
She thought back to the last time she'd felt a man's hands on the sides of her face as they kissed. The last time she lay in a bed with a man, her body pressed against his. Skin on skin.
"Yes . . . a long time ago. Or so it seems," she said. "Maybe too long."
She realised she'd never once spoken about her love life with Greene before. It'd been so long, after all. Certainly she'd never discussed Will Ardai before. Not with anyone aboard the Defiant, anyway. She could still see him, the last time they saw each other.
The station hummed with activity. "It doesn't have to be a long break, Jess."
"I know," she said. "But it will be. You know it will."
He stepped forward, took her in his arms, gave her one last kiss before saying good-bye. "I'll miss you. And think about you. All the time."
She watched him go, dissolve into the crowd of moving bodies, everyone going to his or her destination. The body of the hive, all star-bound. When she was sure he'd gone, Jessica went back to the airlock that would take her onto the Defiant and away from him forever.
"I'll miss you. And think about you –"
"All the time . . ." Jessica whispered.
Commander Greene's eyebrows rose to points. "Sorry?"
She snapped to. "Uh, nothing. Nothing. Anyway, you're not considering setting me up with someone are you, Del?"
"In the middle of a battle? Is that really my style?" he asked.
Jessica stood, took both their empty coffee cups with her. "Ha! You have a style now?"
*
"I've had to divert power from several non-essential systems to the hull plating," Chief Meryl Gunn told them both. "This nebula is on constant attack. And what, with the pounding we’ve taken already . . ."
"Should it keep the worst of the radiation out?" Jessica asked.
"By all means, but I can't guarantee how long I can keep it up. Twelve hours may be the limit," Gunn said.
"I don't plan for us to be in here longer than that," Jessica said. "Shut down entire decks if you have to, Chief. Whatever it takes."
Gunn leaned back against a console, hands in the front of her apron. "That's the crux of it, though, isn't it? We need the hull plating to stand up to punishment from outside, and from her. I don't know if it'll do both."
Commander Greene looked at Jessica.
"It has to," she said.
*
On their way back to the bridge, the issue of whether their defences would hold against an assault from Nature and technology made her remember something she'd read during her Academy days.
It was a long shot, but . . .
"Del, you ever ask Captain Hathi'i about the Takara Offensive? I mean, what really happened?" she asked.
Greene looked sideways at her. "I might've mentioned it. I remember learning what happened that day, back in the Academy, prior to serving with him."
"Me too. That's what made me think of it. I've always wondered how he came up with that manoeuvre. How did he know for sure it'd work?"
"Well, if it helps any, I did ask him one day. A bit sheepishly, I wasn't sure he'd even tell me. But he did. Old Hathi'i was good like that."
She looked at him expectantly. "And . . ."
"He said he got it from Captain Driscoll. You know, back in the day. You've gotta remember, Hathi'i was pretty old when I served under him. He'd been Driscoll's second in command at one point. But you know, his people don't age the same as humans."
"Those were the days," Jessica said as they moved out of the way of crewmen carrying a heavy piece of equipment. They continued on their way to the bridge. "Admittedly, it was a bit messed up, you know, with the replicant situation. But apart from that, it was a simpler time. The enemy were the enemy. We were united against them. The Archon class were brand new."
"Very few women skippers around back then," Greene reminded her.
"Yeah, well . . ." Jessica said. "Anyway, so he got it from Driscoll. What next?"
The Commander cleared his throat. "He told me that the suns of Takara are binary. Twin suns. They had a flute of plasma connecting them together."
"I know this part. I remember it from the paper."
"Yeah, and it's not a safe thing to be around. A lot of survey ships have been lost that way, drifting too close to suns and underestimating the way they can just pull you in. Or whip out a load of plasma in your direction. So anyway, he's up against six other ships. His ship, the Sonata, is badly beaten. He's dead meat."
"But he got away," Jessica said.
"Sure did. Flew right at the belt itself. At the connecting stream of matter between the two suns. The enemy followed him, but they didn't take the necessary precaution," Greene said.
"Now this they didn't put in the history books," Jessica said. They stopped outside the bridge.
"In order to survive the encounter, Hathi'i had a negatively charged probe fly opposite the Sonata, connected by a thin cable. When the ship got hit with charge from the ribbon, the probe acted as a kind of ground. Instead of the energy destroying the Sonata, it blew the probe apart. It lasted long enough for them to get past it. Two or three of the Draxx ships flew right into it, destroyed instantly."
"He took a calculated risk," Jessica said. They stepped back on to the bridge. Chang got up, went to her station. "One that paid off."
"You're not thinking about doing the same, are you?" Greene asked.
Captain King buckled herself in. The plan was a crazy one. Yet it had worked for both Captain Hathi'i and Captain Driscoll at some point. Admittedly not all Driscoll's exploits from that time were recorded. The same for Hathi'i. She'd certainly never read about something like that being done.
One lick from a sun could destroy a starship instantly, without warning. She wondered how the Defiant might fare in a similar ruse.
"Commander," she said, turning to Chang. "Tell me about the suns at the Formation's core."
"They're like black holes, Captain," Chang told her. "Immensely strong radiation, pulling everything in as much as their shoving material and energy into the nebula. They're fast rotating pulsars. Highly dangerous."
"What would happen if we got really close?" Jessica asked.
"I seriously advise against it. We wouldn't survive the encounter," Chang said flatly. "The force would either rip the Defiant apart entirely, or pull her in toward them."
Captain King chewed the inside of her mouth as she thought it over. To get too close was suicide. Captain Hathi'i had used a close encounter with a binary to his advantage, but this situation was entirely different. The pulsars powering the maelstrom of the Mobius Formation were, as Chang had said, a lot like black holes. Too close and you went slipping in . . .
"What're you thinking about?" Greene asked her.
"I'm considering time travel."
Banks turned around. "Excuse me Captain, but . . . what?"
Jessica smiled. "I've not lost my mind, if that's what you're thinking. I'm wondering if there will be a time dilation effect when you draw near to the pulsars. A delay."
"Perhaps," Chang said.
"Just humour me for a moment. Say, for instance, Cessqa watches us fly close. Will what she's seeing be moments behind where we actually are?" Jessica asked.
"It's plausible. I'd have to run it through the computer, see exactly what the effect would be on an observer, but in theory, it works."
"Do that now. Let me know," King said.
"So what's the plan?" Greene asked.
Jessica shrugged, as though it were nothing. "A simple matter of going back to the future, Del."
14.
With her sensors seriously degraded by the radiation in the Formation, the Defiant could barely detect what was in front of her, let alone the position of the pulsars themselves. However, with Chang's help, Banks was able to locate one of the more powerful pulsars.
"Change course to suit," King said. "Fast as you dare."
"Aye Captain," Banks said.
The Defiant turned, the mounds of thick grey nebula outside rushing to the left of the viewscreen as Banks changed vector to match their new coordinates.
"Any sign of the Jandala?" Greene asked.
Chang shook her head. "Not certain. But I am detecting a very weak energy signal, in line with what I've monitored before from her. It could be the engine exhaust of the Jandala."
"Give Jackson that bearing," King ordered. She turned to the weapons officer. "Lieutenant, fire two warheads in that direction. Detonate after one hundred thousand kilometres."
She turned to Commander Greene. "See if that gets their attention."
"Locked in, Captain," Jackson said.
"Do it."
He fired the warheads. They disappeared from view in seconds, lost among the dense materials outside. "Detonation in five . . . four . . . three . . . two . . . one!"
There were two bright, simultaneous flashes as the warheads reached the parameters of their command lines.
"Any change in the position of the energy reading?" Jessica asked Chang.
The Commander's brow furrowed as she studied her readouts. "Yes. I believe they're turning to investigate."
"Fire one more, Jackson. Directly astern, one hundred thousand kilometres."
"Aye," Jackson said and fired another warhead. Within seconds he had blown it to smithereens.
Chang looked up. "They're increasing speed."
*
"This could be a trap," Gelvin said.
"More than likely," Cessqa agreed. "I'd be disappointed if it were not."
The Jandala broke through the region of charged plasma, just created by the explosion of the two warheads. A flash of light erupted directly ahead of them.
"Keep going," she ordered.
"This is meant to entice us in, make us come straight for them," Gelvin warned her, concern in his voice.
"And it's working brilliantly," Cessqa said. She shifted on her feet, ready for the first glimpse of the Defiant.
*
"Approaching the pulsar," Banks said.
"Chang, d'you have those numbers yet?" King asked.
The Commander nodded. "I'm putting it through to the helm now. I've allowed for some wiggle room when it comes to the point of no return."
Banks looked down. "Yeah I see it now."
"Thank you Commander. And you think we should be able to use a short Jump Drive burst?" Jessica asked.
"According to the computer, a short burst should be fine," Chang said. "Considering we're not in the thick of things. The nebula thins out close to the pulsars."
"There's a lot of conjecture," Greene said, worried. "We've got no guarantee this will work."
The pulsar loomed into view. The curtain of grey mist rolled back, and there it was: a strobing ball of light, painful to look at because it was so bright.
"Applying the screen," Banks said. Immediately a dull filter overlaid the viewscreen, softening the effect of the pulsar's frantic flickering.
"That's better," King said. "Spool the Jump Drive. Get ready for a short burst, as far as the terminator."
"Aye," Banks said.
"Jandala approaching fast," Chang said.
King looked at Lieutenant Jackson. "Give them a few licks, Lieutenant."
"Yes Ma'am," Jackson said. He turned the Defiant's guns to aim at the Jandala, where it emerged from the dense cloud formations that gave the stellar anomaly its name. Quick bursts of fire flew at their Jandala's energy shield, sparkling in hot yellow explosions where the projectiles struck.
"Jump Drive ready," Banks said.
"Punch it," Jessica ordered.
The Defiant lurched forward and the pulsar seemed to go from being a dangerous light at a comfortable distance to a terrifying nightmare that filled the entire viewscreen. Banks wrestled with the Defiant to get her to turn away from it, to escape its clutches.
"Jump back," she ordered through gritted teeth. New alarms sounded as the Defiant's hull screamed from the exertion of both the pulsar and her own engines. But she did turn.
Banks threw her into Jump again. To the Jandala, she wouldn't have even Jumped away yet.
The Namarian ship just sat there in front of them, as if it didn't detect their presence. They were moments ahead of the game.
"FIRE!!!" Jessica yelled.
15.
Cessqa looked disbelievingly as the Defiant appeared off their starboard bow, then watched as the more distant Defiant sped ahead, toward the pulsar.
"Bring us about!" she ordered Gelvin, but it was too late.
The Defiant let loose everything she had, and at such close proximity, the result was devastating. The Jandala felt every hit as her shields buckled under the barrage of firepower. Gelvin tried in vain to get the Jandala out of range. The pointed ship turned, headed back for the cover of the nebula but the Defiant pursued. The humans' bombardment of them was unrelenting.
"Cessqa our shields are failing!" Gelvin said, disbelief in his voice.
If they were here I would crush their skulls with my bare hands! Cessqa thought. I would stamp their brains into the floor!
She contacted Risa below decks. "Launch the hornets."
"Yes Cessqa. It will be done."
"Are we damaged?"
"Not yet. But our shield weakens. Almost to the point of total failure."
"Understood, Risa."
Cessqa monitored the holodisplay before her and watched as the hornets left the confines of the Jandala. The hornets were spherical creatures, their bodies formed to the exoskeleton of their own, thin hulls. Much like a woodlouse when it rolls into a defensive posture. The hornets had propulsion, weapons, sensor capabilities.
They swarmed from the Jandala and she gave them the necessary directional support, aiming directly for the Defiant.
*
The devices spilled out of openings along the Jandala's hull, like ball bearings, then formed into groups.
"I don't like the look of this . . ." Greene said, standing to watch the viewscreen. As if on cue, the spheres headed straight for the Defiant and started to fire.
"All batteries, fire. Don't let any of them through."
"Aye Captain," Jackson said. The Defiant's artillery criss-crossed before them, cutting their path toward the beleaguered Union vessel. They exploded on impact, not built to withstand much in the way of enemy firepower. But it didn't stop a dozen or so from slipping through. They careened over the hull of the Defiant, strafing her with bursts of energy weapons that weakened the plating in multiple locations. It all happened so fast, Jackson barely had time to react.
"Hull plating is weakening considerably," Chang said, worried. "By taking smaller shots at us, but spread out all over the outside of the ship, the plating is having a hard time adapting."
Defiant shook and shuddered around her. Jessica called over to Ensign Rayne.
"Get me Dollar!" she said as a pipe burst overhead, filling the bridge with steam. "Get him on the line!"
*
"Cessqa we must withdraw! Our defences weaken considerably. Any more, and . . ."
Risa's voice trailed off. The implication of what was about to happen was enough. As if to emphasise her point, the Jandala suffered a pounding from the Defiant's weapons.
I have underestimated them, Cessqa thought. They are warriors.
"Continue the assault," she told Risa. "Do what you can to keep the energy shielding from fracturing."
"But, the radiation . . ."
"You have your orders," Cessqa snapped. She closed the channel and focused her energies on the hornets.
*
Just as the woman tasked with keeping the Jandala together contacted Cessqa, Chief Gunn buzzed the bridge to speak with her own Captain.
"Yes Chief," Jessica said curtly. The hornets battered them from all sides, the guns struggling to keep up.
"They're tearing us apart, Captain," Gunn said.
"I know that. Chief, believe me, I'm working on it."
Bright flashes went off around them as the Defiant's batteries landed their targets, destroying one after the other in one swoop.
"Yes!" Jackson cried.
"Luck, Lieutenant," Greene said. "Concentrate. Don't get cocky."
"Yes sir."
Jessica gripped the sides of her chair. It felt like the Defiant would literally break apart around her. As if the drone's weapons would cut the great ship into little chunks.
Come on Dollar.
*
Eisenhower slapped the back end of the Dragonfly. He saw Dollar raise a gloved hand in response from within the cockpit, then he got to the other side of the blast door. It slid down, sealed. The atmosphere bled from the hangar within seconds, before the great doors opened to reveal the crazy roiling colours of the Mobius Formation beyond.
"Good luck, kid," Eisenhower said under his breath as he watched the Dragonfly lift off of the hangar deck. It's engines glowed white hot. Dollar piloted it with ease through the opening.
*
He rounded the edge of the Defiant, throwing the Dragonfly into full thrust as he came up and over her topside. The hornets swarmed left to right, relentlessly attacking the Defiant.
"Okay baby, let's see what ya got," he said to himself more than anything.
The fighter roared beneath him. He closed in on the nearest group and let loose his cannons. Dollar grinned with satisfaction as they burst on impact.
"We’re monitoring your life signs," a voice from the Defiant said in his ear.
"Yep," he said flippantly. "Gotchya."
"If the radiation levels get too high, you need to return to the Defiant immediately," the voice continued.
Dollar swung the Dragonfly about, firing the cannons in a wide arc that destroyed an impressive number of hornets. "What're ya, my mother? Lemme work here!"
A small group of hornets made straight for him, their attention now on the tiny ship effectively destroying them than the larger one struggling to.
He took the Dragonfly down, full thrust, a deep dive that had the hornets veering off to follow. He grimaced from the effort as he pitched the Dragonfly back up, performing a barrel roll while firing at the same time.
The hornets blew one after the other, Bang! Bang! Bang!and he tore through the resultant fire and debris. It popped and fizzed off the Dragonfly's hull.
"Yeehaaaaa!" he cried, never more so in his element than when he was pulling crazy manoeuvres. "Come on!"
16.
"He's cleaning up out there," Greene said. "And by the looks of it, the Jandala's in a bad state."
There were hardly any hornets left by now. Dollar had made short, clean work of destroying them. Blasting them apart, one after the other. At no point had their enemy stepped in. In fact it looked as though they were now retreating.
Jessica watched the viewscreen. The Jandala limped away, into the nebula. She noticed faint trails of atmosphere and exhaust from breaks in her hull.
So, she got whipped too.
"They're hiding," King said.
Greene made a face. "Not a bad idea. We could do with hiding too."
"Agreed," Jessica said. "Banks, get us out of here. Back into the clouds."
"Aye Captain."
Rayne looked over. "Shall I recall Dolarhyde to the ship?"
"Better," Greene said. "His readings are probably through the roof by now anyway."
"They're not far off," Chang said. "Those little ships just don't have the shielding like we do."
Jessica gave Rayne the nod. "Do it. Get him back on the double."
*
"Dolarhyde, you are ordered to return to the Defiant," the voice on the other end said again. "Captain's orders."
"Dammit!" Dollar shouted. He pitched to the right, released a heavy burst of cannon fire into the last group of hornets. "I was just havin' fun."
"You are ordered to return –"
"Yadda, yadda, yadda, I got it. Nobody likes a Moanin' Myrtle."
He reluctantly turned the Dragonfly around and headed back to the hangar opening. The little ship had performed better than expected. For a Do-It-Yourself job, she was quick, fierce, and gutsy.
Should've called her Selena, he thought with a smirk.
*
The clouds took them again. Cessqa stepped away from the holodisplay and stretched. Even a body filled with cybernetic enhancements and nanobots got the odd ache and pain.
"Gelvin, let us hide from the enemy momentarily. I will head down below and assist Risa with repairs."
"Yes, Cessqa."
She turned on her heel and left.
So, hornets are simply not enough, she thought as she made her way below decks to where Risa was busily putting the Jandala back together again. Luckily for the three of them, the automated systems would handle the worst of it.
It's ship on ship combat they respond to. Leader against leader. A battle of intellects. She tasks me, this one. In my own time she would have been a worthy adversary, with whom I would have relished such conflict . . .
17.
"Please forgive the shambolic nature in which we've organised this meeting," King said. Huddled around the table in the briefing room were Commander Greene, Dr. Clayton, Dr. Gentry, Chief Gunn, Dollar and Master At Arms Eisenhower. "Under better circumstances I'd at least have a coffee pot in here."
That produced a much needed chuckle from all assembled, apart from Gentry who appeared deep in thought.
"Anyway, on with business," she said. "I'm sure you're all aware of the situation, but for the sake of clarity let's have a little recap. Commander?"
She handed the floor to Greene, who stood and took her place.
"We've taken damage from the Jandala's attacks, but I think we got a few licks in there ourselves," he said.
"Damn straight we did!" Dollar remarked.
"So she's in the same boat as us, no pun intended. Damaged, flying blind and at increasing risk from the radiation of this nebula," Greene continued. "We're reduced to making visual contact with her until we can fire. And I'm sure the same is true for Cessqa."
"Is it even safe to be operating in here when we can't even see where we're going?" Dr. Clayton asked.
"No," Jessica said. "It's not. That's why I want to depart as soon as we can. There's also the matter of the radiation the Commander has already mentioned."
"Yeah, where do we stand with that, Doc?" Greene asked.
Clayton's expression was grave. "I'm afraid time is running out. There's simply no way for the Defiant's defences to keep that level of radiation out indefinitely. I'm starting to see levels rise in readings taken on decks closer to the hull. It's leaking through."
"How long?" King asked.
"A matter of hours. We need to leave here, Captain. There's no other option."
"I agree. The trick will be to get her out of here with us. Chasing our tail, preferably," Jessica said. "Anyone have any thoughts on that?"
"Reckon I might," Dollar said. "I could take the Dragonfly out again. Do some recon of the surrounding area. Give you a fix on her position."
"Out of the question," Clayton said firmly. "The jab I gave you for your last soiree outside hasn't even kicked in yet. Another half hour of exposure right now would kill you."
"I understand, Doctor," King said. She turned to Dollar. "He's right, you can't go out there again. I'm not willing to take that risk, or to let you either, for that matter."
Dollar slumped into his chair, deflated.
"A probe?" Greene suggested.
"It'd never find its way back."
"Fishing," Gunn said, her gaze distant, face lost in thought.
Jessica cocked an eyebrow. "Chief?"
She cleared her throat. "Sorry. Didn't mean to blurt it out like that. But why don't we go fishing?"
"I'm still not getting –"
The Chief waved her hands. "No, no, no. It'll work. I just have to rig harnesses for each probe. One off the bow and stern, one starboard, one port."
"Chief?" Jessica asked. She looked at the others, then back to Gunn. "Care to share what you're thinking?"
"We have grappling hooks on all four sides of this tub. Y'know, for hauling cargo. It's pretty old school, but they still fit them to even the latest ships because they're a good fallback. We attach the end of each one to a harness, which I'll mount to the probes, then let them fly either direction, searching for the Jandala yet still attached to the Defiant so we can reel them back in," Gunn explained.
"I see. So that's what you meant by fishing," Jessica said. She couldn't help but be impressed by the simplicity of Gunn's suggestion. The probes would act like the feelers on the head of a moth.
Tasting the air.
"Good idea," Dollar said.
"The limit of the grapplers is approximately two hundred kilometres a side. As you know they're powered by miniature thrusters on the claw end, to allow us to steer them. So there shouldn't be a need for the probes to fly under power," Gunn said.
"All they have to do is observe."
"Yeah."
"Doesn't the cable act as a communications line, too?" Greene asked the Chief.
"Yeah, that's what allows us to steer the claws where we want them. Otherwise you'd be firing blind, hoping it hits the spot. They'd be useless."
"Interesting . . ." Greene said, his voice trailing off.
"Thoughts?" King asked.
"Not yet," he said cryptically.
The Chief looked away. "No change there, then . . ."
Greene shot her a look, but at the sight of the Chief's subdued grin he wasn't able to maintain any expression of hostility. He blushed and looked down.
"Come sit back down, Commander," Jessica said, sparing him the looks of the others. She watched him sit opposite her. "So that's our plan. The Chief will make the necessary adjustments to the probes. How long, d'you think?"
"No more than an hour," Chief Gunn said.
"Good. Then we're ready for action. Who's the best at handling the grapplers?"
Master At Arms Eisenhower sat up straight. He'd obviously been waiting for his moment. "You're lookin' at him."
"I thought so," Jessica said. "You're confident that you can handle all four at once?"
He nodded. "Sure can. You didn't see me at the battle of Koenig Prime. I was like a card dealer, had 'em flyin' left, right, and centre."
"Koenig Prime was a long time ago," Greene said.
Eisenhower fixed him with a cocksure stare. "Don't doubt the man who's done it, sonny Jim."
Commander Greene rolled his eyes. Jessica stood. "Okay everyone. We all know what we're doing. Let's get to work."
"Captain, I'll need support in getting the repairs underway while I deal with this," Gunn said.
Jessica was about to answer when Dollar tapped the Chief on the elbow. "If it's all the same to ya, Chief, I'd like to give you a hand."
"Sure. I've seen your work on the Dragonfly. Follow me," she said.
Dr. Clayton and Eisenhower left. However Dr. Gentry remained behind.
"Doctor? Thoughts?" Greene asked.
Gentry rubbed the corners of his eyes wearily. "I've been doing what research I can," he said. "And I keep finding a reference to a Project Prometheus. And a partial record of something similar to the Enigma being detected in an uninhabited system. Of course, the record has been altered. By whom, I can only guess."
"What're you saying?" Jessica asked him.
"That things are being hidden from us. I don't know why. A Union team made a rendezvous with the Enigma some time in the past, I am sure of it. They went in there and abducted some of her crew. And Cessqa knows it."
"But I can't answer for their actions," Jessica said. "All I can do is respond to hers. We're in the dark here."
"Aren't we just . . ." Gentry said with a shake of his head.
"See what else you can drag up from the records, Doctor," Commander Greene said. "I'm sure we'll get to the bottom of this. Whatever this is."
"Yes," Gentry said regretfully. The concern hung over him like a black cloud.
He departed, leaving Captain King and the Commander on their own.
Jessica contacted the bridge.
"Anything?"
"No Captain," Chang said on the other end. "Still no sighting of the Jandala."
"Okay, keep me informed," she said and closed the channel.
She sat back down. It was quiet in there now.
"Everyone supports the team . . ." Greene said.
"Huh?"
He smiled. "An old saying from Earth. You've probably never heard of it. Doesn't matter."
She didn't press it. There were more pressing things on her mind than references to Earth's distant past – such as the alien menace out there right now, doing the exact same thing they were.
Hunting.
"I'm tired, Del," Jessica said. "Tired of all this."
She meant it. There'd been no chance at respite, it seemed. First the year away, exploring, and all that had happened while they'd been away. Then the quick refit of the Defiant so that she could explore the Enigma. And now this . . .
At what point were they to be cut a break? God, she felt like she needed one. It had taken its toll on her. And not to forget that she'd experienced the loss of her Father, too. It all seemed fuzzy now, a kind of haze that prevented her from seeing everything that had happened with any clarity.
"I know how you feel," Greene said.
She shook her head. "No, I mean really tired. Like I need time off. Or a change."
He looked up. "A leave of absence?"
"Not quite. Maybe. I don’t know. When this is over, I'll be having a chat with Admiral Grimshaw. If we ever beat her . . ."
"We will."
"You sound cocksure."
He smiled. "Cause I am. This is the best ship, and the best crew in the entire fleet. If we can't beat her . . . well, nobody can."
"I may love the Defiant, Del, but she's old. An antique. I wonder if even she'll be able to get us out of this one. Sure we got in a few good hits ourselves, but that woman's unrelenting. I've never known an opponent like her," Jessica confessed. "And she's got me worried. I don't care to admit it, but I fear what she's capable of."
"They lack humanity," the Commander said with distaste.
"No, that's the problem. They're all too human. Too full of everything we despise in ourselves. The way she disposed of those crew, as if they were nothing. Would she think twice about laying waste to a planet, Del? I don't think so."
Greene didn't say anything. Jessica could see the cogs in his head were spinning around as much as hers.
"We've barely made a dent in her defences. At least we hadn't until a short while ago. Not compared with what she's managed to do to us."
"But we do have a big advantage."
She looked at him expectantly.
His eyes burned. "You."
Jessica looked away. "I wish I had your confidence in myself. I think it will come down to a boxing match. Throwing punches at one another until one falls down. It'll be a test of resilience, is all."
"No," he said. "You're wrong. Sorry Captain, but you are. This isn't about brawn. This is about brains. Sure, she's one smart cookie. But she doesn't fight creatively."
She waited for him to elaborate.
"Even a computer can be beaten," he said. "It's just knowing which button to press . . ."
18.
When they returned to the bridge, Commander Greene went straight to Chang and hunkered down next to her console.
"You've heard our plan? What we're going to try?" he asked in a low voice.
"Yes," Chang said.
"Now I was wondering, could we use the arrangement with the four probes, extended out the way they are on the tethers, to boost power to our communications system?"
"Use it all as an antenna?"
Greene nodded. With the Defiant at its centre, and the four probes kilometres out, but connected by the thick grappling tethers, it would improve their chances of making contact with Command . . . or so he hoped.
"I guess. In theory it'd work. I could try it out. See if I get anywhere. With Olivia Rayne's help, of course," Chang said.
"Do it. Let me know if you both get anything. The thought occurred to me earlier. Hey, it won't affect our operation now, will it?"
"Shouldn't do."
He stood, then patted her on the shoulder. "Get to work."
*
"Hey old timer, ya reckon ya'll be able to handle those?" Dollar asked.
Eisenhower shot him a look that was both stern and fiery.
"You'd be surprised what an old man like me is capable of, sonny," he said.
Dollar clapped his hands together. "That's what I'm talkin' about! Listen to him!"
Eisenhower smirked. "Young whipper snapper, knee high to a goddamn grasshopper . . ."
Technically I'm older than you, Dollar thought.
"Okay you two," Gunn said, interposing herself between them. "At this rate nothing will get done. You got the controls?" she asked Eisenhower.
He nodded. "Check. Ready for action."
The Chief leaned over to the nearest comm. channel. "Bridge, this is the Chief. We're ready to go down here."
*
"Okay Chief. Proceed," Jessica said.
"All four grapplers are on their way," Chang said. "Shall I put them on screen?"
"Please," Jessica said and watched as the view cycled between the four. They were soon lost to the dense clouds of material around them.
"Data coming in already. We're getting an image of the surrounding area," Chang said. "I'm switching that over to the computer to compile while I attempt to make contact with command."
Jessica shot Greene a look. "This was your idea?"
"Yep," he said.
"A giant antenna," King said, impressed. "Clever."
"I thought so."
Chang looked up. "Rayne, patch me in will you?"
"Working on it," Ensign Rayne said. Her face lit up with a smile. "Done it. We're on."
"Captain, I have command on the line," Chang said.
Jessica got up. "Commander Greene, you're with me. Chang you have the bridge. Well done, ladies. Well done indeed."
*
The connection was less than ideal, but they could hold a conversation and that was all that mattered. Admiral Grimshaw's face appeared as a fuzzy blur on the holodisplay in the briefing room. A shimmering swirl of glowing pixels that barely resembled a human face.
"Captain. I didn't think I'd hear from you for some time," he said.
"Neither did I. But thanks to the ingenuity of my crew, we've got a rough connection."
"Indeed. You'll be interested to hear I've done some digging. There's a lot I'm not comfortable discussing in this manner, Captain. It will have to wait until we can meet again in person."
"Admiral?"
"I know you must be eager to hear what I've found out, but trust me. This is all much bigger than any of us could have thought."
"Sir . . . we have some suspicions ourselves. Just what are we involved in here?"
There was a long pause as the Admiral considered her question. "Trust me, Captain, it's something I'd rather not have seen. In the meantime, I am assigning a task force to investigate. They will report directly to me. I'm sure you understand. My hope is that they will answer some of the many questions I have."
"Like what?"
She shared a look with Commander Greene, who stood off to the side so that Grimshaw couldn't see him. The Admiral sighed.
"Like why we boarded an alien relic and stole its crew," he said. "Why we have invaded a homeworld."
19.
"I don't follow," Jessica said.
"The Namarians were used in some kind of experiment," Grimshaw told her. "Something called Project Prometheus. I'm still pretty much in the dark about it."
As Dr. Gentry said, she thought. Project Prometheus. What did all mean? How did the dots connect?
"For what reason?" King asked.
"Far as I can tell, given the evidence we have already, it is an attempt to create some kind of super soldier," the Admiral told her. "A hybrid of some sort."
"Who's behind it?"
"That's what I want to find out. I'll be assigning a team of specialists to investigate. Meanwhile, Captain, focus on the task at hand. I will speak with you when you return to base," he said. "I have two Hemingway class cruisers headed your way but they will be a while yet. At least twelve hours."
Good lot of use that'll do us, Jessica thought.
"Thank you Admiral. Any help is appreciated."
"Don't mention it. Stay safe, Captain. Grimshaw out." She watched his image fade.
Commander Greene stood with his arms folded. "What the hell was all that about?"
"You tell me. Sounds like a conspiracy. Doesn't it to you?"
"A bit, yeah," Greene said. "And Grimshaw's up to his neck in it."
"Hmm. I can only hope he finds something we can use. After all, we weren't the first ones there. And we only broke in because we were ordered to . . . by him," Jessica said. "But that's a different issue. Right now we have a mad woman out there trying to kill us, and this giant fishing net . . ."
"Captain to the bridge! Sensor contact, port side!"
Jessica didn't bother to respond. She hit the ground running, the Commander in tow.
*
"Report!" Greene demanded, running onto the bridge ahead of her.
"She's going slow, probably attempting to do the same as us," Chang said.
Captain King was close behind. There would have been a day she'd have beaten Greene in any race. He had more than a few pounds on her and was prone to enjoy more than his share of pancakes in the morning – but nowadays she found herself trailing behind him.
Still, I do well for a woman with MS in remission, she told herself.
"Do we have visual?" Jessica asked as she assumed the captain's chair.
Banks flipped several switches. The Formation was unchanged, a swirling storm of muted, metallic colours. Brief yet startling discharges of energy erupted around them. Jessica waited for something to show, squinting in an attempt to make out the shape of the Jandala somewhere in the cloud banks.
"I'm not seeing anything . . ." she said.
The bridge crew collectively held their breaths as then viewscreen continued to show an unchanged panorama of cosmic mist. There was complete silence, save for the chirping and whirring of the computer systems, the hum of the life support system and the reassuring whomp whomp whomp of the Defiant's reactor.
She heard Commander Greene draw a breath and hold it, his eyes focused on the screen.
"Jackson," Jessica whispered, almost as if by speaking too loud she might scare their spectral Namarian nemesis away. "Switch the batteries to manual and get ready to fire."
"Aye," he said quietly.
The Defiant coasted forward, into the relative unknown ahead of them, toward an invisible enemy. Jessica started to wonder if perhaps it had been a fluke, a glitch of some kind. Perhaps one of the probes had, in fact, registered a ghost image of the Defiant herself . . .
Then she was there. Her outline emerged from the fog, became clear and defined as they drew closer.
"Locking guns," Jackson said. "Ready to fire on your command."
"Banks, get that Jump drive ready. The minute they fire back, I want you to take us out of the Formation and Jump away."
Chang's eyes widened. "They're targeting the Defiant."
"Fire," Jessica ordered coolly. Jackson unleashed the Defiant's guns. They punctured the Jandala's hull, sending streams of debris and gas into the surrounding nebula.
The Jandala turned, fired. Their hits sent the Defiant reeling, everything shaking around Jessica. "Banks, get us out of here!"
"Aye!"
"Not too fast," she reminded him as he swung the old ship about, steered her out of the Mobius Formation and back to open space. "Remember we want them to follow us."
*
"Major damage to several primary systems," Risa said. "I'm prioritizing those and switching to secondaries in the meantime."
"Good. Keep me updated."
Cessqa watched the Defiant sweep away from them. As if to illustrate the point they were leaving, the Union ship gave them a few last licks of its weapons. It sped off, into the fog.
"Pursuit," Cessqa told Gelvin. "Don't let them get away."
*
"Approaching the outer perimeter," Banks announced. "Jump drive at the ready."
Jessica strapped herself in. "Everyone, buckle up. Mister Banks, set your course for the Bos System."
"Aye."
"Rayne, tell the Chief to disengage the grapplers. They’re of no use now."
"Yes Captain," the Ensign said.
"The Jandala is closing in," Chang reported.
"Wait for it . . ."
"They're targeting our engines. Preparing to fire."
"Wait . . ."
Commander Greene shot her an anxious look. "Jess."
"They’re firing weapons," Chang said, her voice strangled.
"JUMP!" Jessica yelled.
Banks threw the lever, the Defiant pounced toward the more familiar, starry sky, as if she were a big cat leaping from the grass.
Mere seconds later, the Jandala did the same.
20.
The Defiant rocked from an explosion close to aft.
"What was that?" Greene asked, startled.
"Direct hit to our stern," Chang said, checking her readouts. "I can't believe it. The Jandala is directly behind us, closing the gap."
"And able to fire when Jumping," Jessica said with a shake of her head. "Incredible."
The bridge rumbled from another hit, a system next to the weapons console blew and Jackson sprang up to deal with the resultant fire. Black smoke piled out of it, tainting the air with plastic fumes. The air filters came to life, sucking the toxins out of the atmosphere with a distinct whine.
"We're losing the Jump drive!" Banks yelled.
"What!?" King cried. Just then everything tumbled around her as the Defiant fell from the Jump, spinning uncontrollably at incredible speeds, end over end. Jessica clamped her eyes shut, gripped the arms of her chair hard, fingernails digging into the leather covering. Despite the best intentions of the Defiant's inertial dampeners, she still felt the spin. The fake gravitational effect of a centrifugal force, pinning her to her chair. She couldn't have gotten up if she wanted to. The blood rushed from her head, made her feel light. Jessica passed out, the thud of her beating heart like a drum, sending her down into the dark waters of unconsciousness.
*
Before their last moments on the station. The night before, in fact. She in his arms, their two bodies clamped together beneath the sheets. He kissed the side of her neck and though they'd just made love, she still felt herself quiver at the very touch of his lips on her skin.
"This is my favourite part," she whispered. "Just after."
"I know what you mean," he said and kissed her again.
The ship throbbed around them, its reactor and heavy engines rumbling through every part of the ship, down to the bolts holding her bunk to the wall.
Their bunk.
"I wish you didn't have to go," she confessed.
"Me too."
"I sometimes think about giving it all up. Going somewhere with you, making a life together."
His mouth pressed against hers, they kissed, long and passionate. When he pulled away, she gazed into his eyes, her free hand at the back of his neck, still damp with sweat.
"I love you."
*
She opened her eyes.
It was slowing, the Defiant was slowing from her decelerating spin.
So, we're still alive . . .
Jessica returned to the real world, her eyes refocusing. She sat upright from where she'd slumped in the chair and cleared her throat.
"Report."
"Attempting to restore control," Banks said, biting his top lip as he wrestled the Defiant's helm functions.
The vessel slowed down, stabilized, and Jessica could now make out what was ahead of them on the viewscreen. A comet, big as a moon at least, on a flyby of whatever planetary system they'd ended up in.
"Where are we?"
"Working on it, Captain," Chang said.
The comet dragged behind it an enormous bluish tail. The ball of ice and rock itself was in a state of degradation, boiling away into the vacuum as it made its way through whatever system they'd emerged into – certainly not the Bos system, that was for sure.
"Zoom in on the comet for me," Jessica said.
Banks did as he was told. What had seemed a spherical ball of ice, a dirty snowball, was in fact a doughnut shape with a hole in the middle. Not a big hole, but perhaps . . .
"The Jandala has exited the Jump," Chang said.
"Banks, take us in close to the comet, while we figure everything out," King ordered. Her eyes sparkled with relish. "Time we fight dirty."
PART III
Tempest of Ice
21.
In other circumstances, she might have called off the hunt. But on this occasion Cessqa did not have the luxury of returning home for repairs. Or to take command of another ship and return to finish what she'd started.
Things are as they are.
"The Defiant has entered the comet's tail," Gelvin said. "I can't track them on sensors, nor can I make visual contact."
"A clever move," Cessqa said. She stepped forward to stand behind him. "How are we holding up?"
"All systems functioning, by the looks of things. Risa is performing admirably, holding the ship together."
"Yes, she is most efficient," Cessqa said, herself impressed by Risa's single-handed coordination of the drones elsewhere in the ship. They could be trusted to fix almost anything, to repair any and all systems . . . and yet they still required a sentient mind to guide them. They needed a living being to order them about, ensure they didn't waste time.
"Do we follow the humans?" Gelvin asked.
Cessqa thought for a moment. She turned back to her holodisplay, to the image of the comet there before her. It had an icy core and ejected a plume of blue-grey ice for millions of kilometres behind it. It's tail consisted of highly charged particles and radioactive matter – perfect for hiding a starship.
It's like trying to see through a hail, she thought. A tempest of ice the likes of which I have not seen since I left our wasted homeworld, so many centuries ago.
"Proceed slowly, with caution," she told Gelvin.
"As you wish."
Cessqa left the command deck and ran through the bowels of the ship to where Risa was busily conducting the intuitiveless drones as to what to fix next. She passed sections of deck that had been blown inward, debris everywhere, cables and wires hanging like spilt intestines. Risa looked up as her commander approached. "Cessqa."
"Risa. How long until we have the energy shield?"
"A while," Risa said.
"Very well. I need you to make it your priority."
"Yes," Risa said.
Cessqa regarded her. Risa, one of Namar's most celebrated warriors. Before the fall of their people. Before they were lost from memory, relegated to the very mists of time.
"You still have your blade?" Cessqa asked her.
"I brought it aboard . . ." Risa answered, her head tilted slightly to the left as she tried to ascertain Cessqa's intentions. "Why?"
"Keep it handy," Cessqa said and stalked off, back to the command deck where Gelvin piloted the Jandala into the tempest, once more in pursuit of the Defiant.
*
"Jeez, it's like flying into a hail storm," Banks said. They were advancing on the comet itself, pushing through the megatonnes of material and matter it left behind.
First extreme radiation, gravity, and time dilation, Commander Greene thought. Now ice. Deadly ice that could destroy us any second.
As it were, the comet's tail proved mostly harmless. But if a sizeable chunk of it were to break away and head straight for them, the Defiant would not be able to move out of the way. For all the cold outside, Banks couldn't help but sweat.
"Take us around the comet, Lieutenant. I want to get ahead of it."
All eyes turned to Jessica.
"Jess . . ." Greene said, forgetting himself in his shock. "You can't be serious."
"Captain I seriously advise against it," Chang told her.
"I can do it," Banks said, face taut with tension as the comet's body appeared out of the din. He pushed the Defiant's engines as hard as he could, pushing on past the giant icy satellite. It spewed material from every inch of its surface, it seemed. Some of that violently, catapulting debris away from its surface, clattering against the vessel's hull.
A jagged piece of ice hurtled toward them. Banks pitched the Defiant to the left. the made a grinding noise that rattled the ship as it scraped the hull.
"Damn that was close," Greene said.
Before, it had been hard to judge just how fast the comet was travelling. But now they struggled to overtake it, the Defiant's engines pushed to their limit.
"I'm getting some detailed telemetry of the comet," Chang announced.
"Overlay on the viewscreen," Jessica ordered.
Chang did so. Her data appeared over the view of the comet sliding past to the right as they appeared to inch forward. The telemetry showed the comet's jagged, sharp edges as an almost donut shape, a hole in the middle like a tunnel straight through its core, hurtling through the cosmos, racing toward its own inevitable destruction.
"Orders?" Banks asked, his voice strained.
Jessica eyed Commander Greene. "A Driscoll special."
He cocked an eyebrow. "Oh," he said. He looked back at the viewscreen, at Chang's scans of the comet. "I see."
The bridge crew shuffled in their seats nervously, unsure of what was about to commence.
Jessica opened a channel to the munition's bay. "This is the Captain. Load one nuke into tube one."
"Yes Captain," came the somewhat stiff reply.
She closed the channel. Now she definitely had everyone's attention. You could have heard a pin drop. "Banks, here's what you're going to do . . ."
22.
The image of the Defiant flickered momentarily, then disappeared on the holodisplay. Yet there could be no mistaking their present location.
"Gelvin, take us closer toward the comet's nucleus," Cessqa ordered.
Risa arrived on the command deck. "I thought I might be of help up here. The drones are doing all they can. We have limited energy shielding, which I've assigned to the front of the ship."
"A good plan," Cessqa said. She eyed the giant blade at Risa's hip. "And you have come prepared."
Risa nodded slowly, her hand falling to the hilt of the weapon. "I thought it prudent, considering we are nearing the end of this matter."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean to say that, given your tactics, you mean to either completely destroy them or cripple them so they have no choice but to surrender," Risa posited.
"Perhaps I mean to take them by force."
"And not offer a chance at surrender?" Risa asked, her face lit with amusement.
"Only the weak surrender, Risa. I do not think this Captain King will ever succumb to my demands. She is surprisingly resilient. No, she will have to die first. Then her crew," Cessqa said. "One by one."
*
Banks took the Defiant ahead of the comet, using every ounce of available energy to pump extra thrust from the engines. He ran a hand over his face, dried his palms on his trousers, then set to pivoting the Defiant about.
Jessica didn't need to tell him he would only have seconds to perform the manoeuvre before the comet caught up with them, smashing them to smithereens.
"Okay . . ." he said, not entirely full of optimism.
Damn him, Jessica thought.
They all watched the viewscreen, collectively holding their breaths as the Defiant lurched to the right. Banks threw the engines into full reverse, to give himself additional seconds to complete the turn. There before them, the comet rushed to meet the Defiant and directly ahead lay the hole that gave the ball of ice its donut appearance.
Lieutenant Banks accelerated again. They closed in on the hole, the sides rushing past at incredible speed.
"Activating external illumination," Chang said.
Search lights along the Defiant's exteriour came to life, showing the sides of the tunnel in stark relief. Lieutenant Banks made minor adjustments to their course as they barrelled through it.
A sharp outcropping appeared ahead of them, but the helmsman reacted quickly, yawing the Defiant to avoid it. There was clearance of less than two metres, but they made it past.
"That was too close," Greene said.
Light showed at the end of the tunnel and the Defiant was soon racing to meet it, leaving the insides of the comet behind.
*
The image of the ship flashed rapidly, seemingly out of nowhere. Cessqa barely registered that it was headed straight for them. Gelvin, luckily for her, did. He attempted to steer away, though it was futile.
How did they get around that thing so fast? Cessqa asked herself. It's impossible.
"We can lock weapons," Risa said next to her. "We should take the opportunity."
"Do it," Cessqa said coolly.
"Locked. Shall I fire on them?"
"Yes."
23.
"Jandala on sensors."
King looked at Chang. "Certain?"
The Commander nodded. "More than certain, Captain."
The Jandala opened fire on them. The Defiant shouldered the hits, and the concussion of the Namarian weapons thundered against the hull.
"Jackson, are you ready?" Jessica asked the weapons officer. He gave her the thumbs up signal. "Then aim and fire. Detonation on impact, not proximity. Enable remote detonation, in case we need it."
"Yes Ma'am," he said, his hands braced above the controls. "Ready to fire."
"Do it," she ordered.
The nuclear warhead pirouetted through the short distance between the Defiant and Jandala, sparkling yellow. It found the Namar ship and exploded on contact with the Jandala's hull. An incredibly bright, white explosion filled the screen, then the aftershock slammed into the Defiant.
Everything seemed to turn upside down right then as the aftermath of the awesome force exerted by the exploding nuke. Banks wrestled with the controls, tried his best to keep her from succumbing to the wave.He managed to fly the Defiant straight. The bow shock chased their tail, Banks steering the Defiant barely ahead of it, then it slammed into their hull, a gigantic crash that sent them reeling but the after effects subsided swiftly.
"Man, that had to have done some damage," Banks said with a wince.
"The Jandala! What is the situation of the enemy?"
Chang looked up. "Crippled. No propulsion to speak of. Minimal weaponry."
Jessica watched the viewscreen. Now that the glow had faded, she could see the outline of the Jandala in further detail . . . and the spots where she burned. Where she lay open to the ravages of the vacuum.
"I can see for myself," King said. "If I know anything of them by now, it's that they'll have that ship repaired within the hour. That's why we must put them out of action entirely."
"They're lucky they weren't destroyed," Greene said. "A direct hit like that from a nuke . . ."
"We took quite a hit from that ourselves. Hull plating is now inoperable and other systems showing signs of failure," Chang advised. "But if it's any consolation, the Jandala's defences are also down for the time being."
"Let's start taking damage reports from all sections, Del. Start with –"
Jessica found herself suddenly suspended in darkness, with only the audible presence of those around her to remind her she was not floating in a void.
"Looks like those systems failed sooner than I'd thought," Chang said glumly.
Commander Greene sighed. "Is this what you had in mind?" his now disembodied voice asked Jessica.
"Not exactly."
24.
Cessqa opened her eyes.
I still live.
The Jandala creaked and groaned around her. She rolled over to her front and with great determination and strength she pushed herself up off the deck. With a drunken stagger, she stood and reached out for the nearest edge to steady herself.
Sparks rained down from somewhere, the stench of burning plastics and alloys thick on the air. The Jandala listed, throwing the artificial gravity off. The imbalance made her want to go skittering off to the side.
"Gelvin . . . Risa . . ." she asked the room, eyes still focusing.
"Here," Risa's strained voice came from behind her. Cessqa turned to see the tall, slender Namarian clutching a duct overhead.
"And Gelvin?" she asked.
Looking back at the front of the command deck, she made out an arm on the floor, pose loose and flaccid. Cessqa got there as fast as she was able, but she knew it was futile. He was already gone.
Gelvin lay sprawled on the floor, his face staring up at nothing with a fixed, empty expression. She looked down his body, to where a section of the ceiling had collapsed on him, crushing his internal organs.
"Gelvin," Cessqa said softly and she reached out to touch the top of his head, as if his thoughts still lingered there.
She closed her eyes for a moment, feeling a stab of what could only perceived as grief. But it passed. It always did.
She stood, turned to Risa, now fully composed. Recovered from her fall.
"Gone?" Risa asked.
She didn't say anything to the contrary. "We have work to do."
*
With a perceptible groan, emergency lighting came on around them, systems started to reboot.
"What happened?" Greene asked, unclipping himself.
Jessica opened a channel to the engineering section. "Chief?"
"That nuclear blast blew half a dozen relays down here, hence the power cut. We're working to fix it, but . . . it's going to take time."
"How much time?"
"At least two hours."
King sighed. "Can you find a workaround? Just for the time being?"
"I'm sorry, Captain, but they have to be replaced. I can get you some engine power, but for the time being both the weapons systems and the hull plating will be out of action. At least until I can get these relays changed over."
"Understood, Chief," Jessica said and closed the channel.
"Damn," Greene said.
"We didn't have full power to the plating when I ordered the nuke," Jessica told him. "I shouldn't have ordered it."
"You did what you had to. There was no knowing it would cause this."
Ensign Olivia Rayne stuck her earpiece in, looked up, eyes wide. Captain King saw her reaction to whatever was coming in on the other end. "Ensign?"
Rayne's eyes were wide. "Captain . . . it's Cessqa."
25.
Captain King stood. There was no viewscreen. Emergency lighting gave just enough illumination to see by. Every console stood dark as they rebooted. "Put her on audio."
The speakers crackled to life around her and were then filled with the boom of Cessqa's cruel voice.
"Captain King. You still live."
"Despite your attempts to the contrary Cessqa, yes, I do."
"You have fought well. But this dance is ended. I am the victor."
How can she know that? Jessica wondered. Sophisticated sensing technology?
Her eyes narrowed. "Where are you headed with all this?"
All the while she thought: Buy us time. Buy us time.
"Give yourself willingly and I will spare the rest. You must surely desire to save your crew, Captain?" Cessqa asked. "Is it not a worthy sacrifice?"
"I do wish to spare them," Jessica said. "Enough that I would happily give my life to save theirs. But I won't. You would never keep to your word. They would suffer, needlessly."
"A valiant resolve, Captain," Cessqa said. "And yet . . . futile. I have given you opportunity to surrender, and you have refused. I have given you the chance to give your life for theirs, and even then you will not see reason. You will not end this folly."
Jessica thought fast on her feet, eager to buy them as long as possible.
"All right. I'll do it. But I need fifteen minutes to inform my crew."
"You may have ten. After which time you will . . . present yourself . . . to me."
The line went dead. Olivia Rayne looked up. "Transmission's been cut their end."
Jessica surveyed the faces in the room. She clapped her hands together. "Right, so we have ten minutes. Let's get a move on, people."
"Our plan?" Chang asked.
Jessica watched Commander Greene unbuckle himself from his seat and head for the exit.
"Hope the Chief manages to get us something we can work with," King said. "And do whatever we can to help her along."
26.
"Seven minutes," Rayne's voice thundered through the ship as Greene arrived at the doors of the engineering section.
God, give a man a chance, he thought as he walked in.
It was a scene of chaos. Lights dying, then flickering back. Men and women running back and forth in all directions, most carrying various tools and devices. And in the midst of the madness, orchestrating such a haphazard rabble stood the Chief.
"You! Get to the secondary cylinders!" Gunn yelled. She caught sight of a young woman hauling a big grey case. "Hey, Juarez, slow down before you brain someone."
"Use an extra pair of hands?" Greene asked.
Gunn acted as though he'd been due there the whole time, and she'd simply been waiting for him to turn up. Not that he'd run the length of the ship of his own accord, to be there for her, to help her get them out of this jam. Still, he followed as she led him away.
"If I can redirect energy from the Jump Drive, by shutting it down, I can get us some engine power. It's your call," she said bluntly.
Greene hit a nearby comm. unit and dialled the bridge.
"King."
"Captain, we can give you engine power, but in order to do so we've got to divert energy away from the Jump Drive, meaning you won't have it available. Not that it's in that good a shape right now . . ."
"I see."
"What do you want to do?"
A pause, then, "Do what you have to."
"Aye," Greene said and closed the channel. He turned to the Chief. "It's a go. Now what?"
"Five minutes," Rayne's voice said around them.
"Let's see those hands of yours," Gunn said.
The Commander held them out, palms up. They were relatively clean, and when he saw the state of those around him, including the Chief herself, Greene almost felt ashamed.
But Meryl simply looked up at him, a smile on her face. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you'd been counting money all your life, Del. Ready to get 'em dirty with me?"
It meant she really did appreciate him being there with her. It meant she had noticed. It meant he was doing good down here, helping her get them moving, give them a fighting chance at survival.
"Sure," he said.
*
Systems returned to normal, registering the many busted parts of the Defiant.
"Ignore them," Jessica told her crew. "Focus on what we have."
"Helm inoperative," Banks said.
She threw him an icy look. "I said to focus on what we had, Mister Banks."
"Yes Captain."
"Can I speak freely?" Rayne asked.
Chang looked up the same time King did.
"Of course," Jessica said.
"What happens if we surrender?"
"We won't," Jessica assured her.
The communications officer sighed. "But if we don't have a choice . . ."
"There's always a choice," King said. Now she addressed them all. "I will never let this ship, or its crew, fall into enemy hands. I'd rather die first. There is always a choice between fighting to survive and simply rolling over."
No one said anything to the contrary.
"Keep your chins up. We'll get through this," Jessica said.
"Two minutes," Rayne said.
A new chord rang out around them as power returned to the engines. The helm console came to life again, lights blinking around Banks.
"We're back in action!" Banks cried.
Jessica flipped a switch. "Captain King to the engineering section. Well done everyone. We've got legs again. Captain out."
27.
She looked at him with pride at her own handiwork, not expecting what he did next. The pulsing light of the reactor surged around them as Commander Greene pulled the Chief in close and kissed her hard, firm on the lips. For a split second she resisted, surprised by his spontaneity – then she sagged in his arms, completely lost in his embrace.
The Chief reached up as they kissed, let her fingers slip through his hair. It was a long moment, heightened by what they'd just achieved, by their deep love and desire for one another. By the beating heart of the Defiant they'd both managed to restore. It throbbed, the air around them vibrating.
And yet they stayed that way for a long time. Eventually she pulled away from him, and he looked at her with big, fierce eyes.
I want you, they said. I love you. I need you.
For the briefest of moments, lost in his embrace, the Chief felt like a girl. A simple girl impossibly drunk on love. Then she was back to the real world, to a career as the head of the engineering section aboard a starship.
She glanced left and right, noticed the crowd and parted. "We're, uh, being watched," she whispered.
The Commander grinned, still holding her and refusing to let her get too far. "I don't care."
"Well I do," she said softly, then glared at them all. Her voice rose, became a terrifying bellow. "Back to work you sorry maggots! You're lucky I don't dump you out the nearest airlock!"
Commander Greene couldn't stop laughing, even when she gave him a short jab to the arm. Chief Gunn walked to the nearest comm. panel and contacted the bridge.
28.
"We have limited power to engines," Banks said.
Jessica clucked her tongue. "Okay. Weapons?"
Lieutenant Jackson shook his head as he consulted his own display. "Nothing, Captain. No power to any of our weapons systems."
"Damn it!" Jessica exclaimed, immediately regretting doing such a thing in front of the crew.
"We're sunk," Rayne said.
"Are we going to surrender?" Chang asked.
Jessica snapped about. "Not on your life, Commander. There's another way out of this."
"We need a miracle," Banks remarked.
"Not at all, Lieutenant," King said. A smirk made its way onto her face – and it just got bigger and bigger. "All we need to know is what buttons to push."
"Captain?" Chang asked, bemused.
"Sometimes you have to do the unexpected thing, Commander. Make that rash decision," she told her. "It can be your only way out of a situation at times. It's a fingers-crossed kind of thing."
"A leap of faith," Chang said, understanding. Jessica nodded.
"Yes. Yes that's it exactly, a leap of faith."
The bridge crew watched as their Captain revealed her plan.
"Banks, can you get one-half thruster power out of the engines?"
"Captain, I don't think –"
She snapped her fingers once. "Stop. Can you do it? Yes or no."
"Yes, at a push," Banks said. "But –"
She dismissed him immediately. "Ensign Rayne, put out a call throughout the ship. Brace for impact. Everyone get to their positions and strap themselves in. Right now."
"Captain, surely you don't mean to . . ." Chang said.
Jessica's jaw set hard, her eyes burned as mean pits of fire in such a beautiful face. "I do."
Rayne's voice boomed around them. "All hands, brace for impact. Assume positions. Evacuate all outer decks. Seal them off. Repeat, all hands brace for impact. Assume positions."
"Banks, set your course for the Jandala. Throw everything into the engines so they don't have time to get away," she said sternly. "Ram them into next week."
"Yes Captain," Banks complied.
The Defiant lurched forth, her engines blazing. The viewscreen showed the Jandala growing larger and larger in front of them. She could imagine Cessqa's panic as she watched the Defiant head straight for her. It was a crazy, imaginative move that a Namarian simply wouldn't have thought of. A human act.
She would not surrender them to her. She'd rather destroy the ship, kill them all, than have them die by Cessqa's hands. Still, there was a chance they'd survive. A slim chance, but Jessica had already decided she'd take what she could get.
The ship shuddered, the Jandala in their sights, the Defiant's engines blazing behind them. Jessica glanced across at Chang. The Commander was faced forward, ready for whatever came.
True Officer material, Jessica thought. She's not questioned my order because she knows it's a viable alternative to giving ourselves up.
"Here we go everyone. Let's see how they deal with a real-life leap of faith!"
29.
"Propulsion!" Cessqa shouted. Back below decks again, Risa was quick to respond to her commander.
"Not yet. I need time."
"We don't have it," Cessqa spat. She looked up. "Yet our enemy does."
Cessqa studied her holodisplay. The Defiant made steady progress, moving under power which was more than could be said for the Jandala.
"So . . ." Cessqa said in near disbelief. "They are coming."
Her eyes were hard silver as she watched the human's ship accelerate toward them, with no indication that it was about to shift course. It almost looked as though . . .
Oh, she is a tricky one. She would risk that. Risk everything, just to stop us. I have underestimated them time and time again. It will not happen in the future. They are not to be trusted, these doughy pink humanoids. Not to be trusted.
Cessqa manned the controls from where she was, piloting the Jandala out of the way.
30.
The Jandala tried to run. Tried to get out of the way in time. But the Namarian vessel was in far worse shape than her commander at first feared. The Defiant accelerated ahead of her, engines roaring with everything she had.
Jessica watched the scene with an almost clinical detachment. She did not feel fear, nor a thrilling stab of endorphins as they rushed to their possible deaths. Only a deep calm, a restive emotion.
The Defiant was about to crash into another ship. More often than not, it resulted in their destruction. How many ships had been lost that way?
Too many. Defiant was about to be another one of their number.
She closed her eyes. A recent memory surfaced and she went with it.
Back to the Officer's Mess.
Commander Greene looked sideways at the twinkling lights beyond the viewport. He looked almost wistful, longing.
"Da dee da da, da dee dee . . ." he sang softly, barely audible.
Jessica's brows rose in surprise. "Del, I never took you for a singer."
He laughed. "I'm not. It's just something my Mother used to sing to me."
"Really?"
"You don't recognise it?"
She shook her head.
"Da dee da da, da dee dee," he hummed again. "Star of wonder, star of night . . ."
"Oh. What is it? Where's it from?"
"An old hymn or something. I dunno. I've never forgotten it though. All these years and I still find myself humming it in the shower," the Commander said. He looked down at the coffee cup in his hands, bashful. "Mother used to sing it all the time, like a comfort. Silly, really."
"No it's not. At least you have that memory of her," Jessica said. She didn't need to continue. What was unsaid remained in the air, present and accounted for.
I didn't know my own Mother. I wish I had something like that to remember her by, she thought as she followed his gaze to the cosmic blanket beyond the confines of the Defiant. I wish I could see her face, hear her voice whenever I looked at the stars. All I see is what's been taken away from me. I see a dark void, filled with lights. Some of those I've known and lost among them . . .
*
The Defiant drove straight into the Jandala, her forward hull crumpling like a tin can in some places. In others she held up well. The Jandala buckled under the impact, her engines dying behind her.
However the Defiant had survived the encounter. Around her, the bridge seemed to be intact. There was no hiss of escaping atmosphere. The old girl hadn't let them down yet.
"Are we dead?" Chang asked groggily to the side of her.
"Not yet," Jessica answered.
PART IV
Fire And Rain
31.
Metal locked onto metal. The Jandala and the Defiant held together, the two ships caught in the same dance.
The Defiant was a ship of the night. Jessica felt for the buckle of her safety harness, unclipped herself and stood. The air was close, warm. Around her the Defiant remained still.
"How's about everyone else. You all okay?" she asked. Her voice sounded too loud in there, too abrupt in the way it shattered the stillness of the dark.
"Yeah," Commander Greene said with a groan. "I guess."
"Well you're answering, so . . ." King said. The tortured sigh of metal came from several decks away, still audible all the way up on the bridge. It was the Defiant's hull itself, torn open in the impact. Ripped away like skin from flesh.
How many times are we going to break today? she asked herself. Well you will insist on ramming the enemy. And maybe this time will be the last . . .
"Emergency lights," Jessica said as she unclipped herself. The deck shifted beneath her, the ship's artificial gravity struggling to compensate.
"I don't think that's going to happen," Greene said, activating a small light from a compartment next to his chair, handing one to Jessica.
She turned it on. "You still with me Chang?"
"I'm still with it, Captain, yes," Chang said. She flicked her own light on, unclipped herself and checked on Banks and Rayne.
Jessica walked over to Jackson. "How 'bout you?"
She turned him around. Her breath caught in her throat. She shone her light up at the ceiling, where a tangle of broken wires and power cables hung from a blown bulkhead. They had fallen on Jackson, electrocuting him. The scattered debris littered his body, polymer fragments and fine white dust. His face was charred, burned, locked in an expression of complete horror. Eyes bulging from their sockets.
Now she noticed his hands. Locked into tight fists as he fought the massive charge that had killed him – fried him from the inside out.
"Jess?" Greene asked. He drew nearer, saw Jackson, then steered her away from him. "Come on. You don't need to see that any longer."
She shrugged him off, stood over at the rear of the bridge, her hand over her mouth. "I just need a moment," she said, choking back the urge to vomit.
It was eerily silent on the bridge right then, as if a funeral shroud blanketed the room.
Greene nodded, went to the others. She heard him get them into a group, get them coordinated.
She'd seen people die. But it was the unexpected nature of it that shocked her.
Jessica turned back around, used the light to survey the whole bridge. A huge crack ran across the ceiling, and it showed real signs of spreading. The Defiant groaned, the sound of metal straining from a great weight. Or two starships, entangled, spinning out of control in the backwash of a gigantic comet.
"It's too dangerous to stay here," she said. All eyes fell on her. She did what she did best. Sucked it up, buried it deep down inside. Until later. Until she could have privacy to let it loose, get rid of it. Cry and scream and moan. Until then . . .
"We need to regroup elsewhere," she said, her voice full of steely resolve. "Follow me."
32.
A chunk of debris had fallen, destroying the holodisplay and in the process pinning her to the floor. Cessqa breathed. In and out, in and out. She tried to move her arms and to her surprise they worked. Next, her legs. They moved but she could not shift them.
Stuck.
She craned her head around, looked at the section of bulkhead that had her held in place, and the rage boiled over. She screamed, something that sounded awful and stretched coming from her. Her hands found the edge of the chunk of heavy material, and she strained to lift it.
Nothing.
Cessqa drew a deep breath, tried again. It shifted a little, then settled back onto her legs. The pain was excruciating.
Feet padded into the devastated command deck, and Cessqa turned her head in time to see Risa run in. She immediately came to her aid, but Cessqa waved her off.
"No."
"But Cessqa–"
"I SAID NO!"
She took another breath, held it and with every ounce of strength in her body Cessqa hefted the piece of debris up off of her legs. She propelled it off to the right, where it clattered against the deck. She got up, her limbs wobbly but still operable. She felt sore all over. But that was nothing to what she felt inside. Deep down, where the fire burned more than ever. Where it threatened to come streaming out of every crevice in bursts of intense flame.
"Get your weapons. We are going over there to end this."
*
The secondary command deck was in darkness, like the rest of the ship. But at least it was in one piece and did not contain any recently killed crew members.
"Okay. Commander Greene, you will go to the engineering section with Banks and Rayne and assist the Chief in getting us some power back. Chang, you will stay here with me. We'll get a team together, ready to defend this ship," Jessica said.
"You really think they'll attempt to come over?" Chang asked.
"I'd bet on it if I were you," Greene said. "If they're still alive, I'd count on them making an attempt to breach the Defiant and take us by force. It's what I'd do in her situation."
"We'll deal with that," Jessica said. "You three get moving. Tell the Chief to do whatever she can. Best of luck."
"Come on, you two, you heard the lady," Greene said and led them out into the dark corridor.
Chang turned to her. "So how do we go about this?"
"Find Hawk. That's our best option," Jessica said.
"Hawk?" Chang asked, utterly confused.
She had to backtrack to realise her mistake. "I mean Dollar. We need to find Dollar."
With that they were off, running. "Captain, what about the secondary command deck? There's nobody there," Chang asked next to her.
"Lisa, without power we don't have anything to command."
"Good point."
33.
The vacuum clutched at them, its penetrating freeze, cold enough to boil their bodily fluids in seconds. A human would not have lasted long in the extremities of open space. Yet the Namar were made of tougher stuff. Cessqa merely grimaced at the lack of oxygen, the immense radiation and deep, dark cold. It was an irritation, an inconvenience, little more.
Unlike a human, both she and Risa could last a short while exposed to the void before their bodies succumbed to its harsh nature. More than enough time to breach a starship.
They stood outside the Jandala, on a ledge intended for maintenance when under power. Now it served as their launch. The Defiant had ploughed into them, embedding itself, and at the same, leaving an open gash. It looked like a fallen skyscraper without a sky to point to.
The comet had more or less left them behind, though in its wake, both vessels were still bombarded with ice crystals and micrometeors. The stars spun around them, both vessels locked in a tango of colossal proportions.
Risa looked at her for direction. Cessqa pointed at an opening in the Defiant's hull, like the claw mark of a huge monster that had left the Union vessel vulnerable. Risa nodded her understanding.
Cessqa went first. She pushed herself off, her momentum giving her enough thrust, however small, to bridge the gap between her ship and Captain King's.
Her, she thought as she fell toward the Defiant. Her. I will find her on there. Kill her with my bare hands. Watch as the life flees her body, then kill the others. All of them. She had her chance to surrender.
The battered hull rushed up to meet her. She braced for impact, ready to grab whatever she could to stabilize herself. It came, her body took the hit, her fingers dragged on the tortured metal until they closed around a small square that jutted out. The housing of a component.
She hung there, hands on the box, getting ready to claw her way back toward the gash. Back to the opening. It would not take long. She gave Risa the signal and watched her follow, leaping from the Jandala's edge.
Captain King I am coming for you.
*
Dollar was already on his way out the door. "The thought occurred to me, too."
Jessica and Chang struggled to keep up with the lively Texan as he bounded ahead of them.
"Where are we going exactly?" Chang asked.
"The cargo hold. I've got somethin' in storage."
"Ah yes. That," King said. "Your kataan. That's pretty much a collectible antique, you know."
Chang tugged at King's elbow. "Are you saying he's got a kataan aboard?"
"Course I got one," Dollar said, as if it were an everyday occurrence, retrieving your sword from storage.
Chang stopped. Jessica stopped a few feet ahead while Dollar continued on. "Commander, what is it?"
"First you tripped up and called him Hawk. Now you're telling me he's got a kataan. It's all too much of a coincidence," Chang said.
Jessica sighed.
I don't have time for this. Nor do I have time for these goddamned secrets, either.
"Look, he's really Hawk. You know, Gerard Nowlan. Captain Nowlan. Whatever you want to call him. It's all true. Commander Greene is the only other person who knows."
"How . . . How does that . . . Huh? . . . I mean . . ." Chang took a deep breath. "Let's get this straight. Dollar, who we've all served with for over a year, is really a long lost hero of the Union? Am I right? How are you even keeping this a secret?"
"You tell me. But it's worked up till now," King said and carried on in the direction Dollar had gone. "With all due respect, right this minute I don't have time to explain all this to you, Lisa. Later, I promise. You have my word."
"Hawk . . ." Chang said, falling into step with her. "Who'd believe it?"
*
Cessqa watched Risa dropped inside the hole. The deck was in darkness, devoid of atmosphere, warmth and light. Ice crystals glittered in all directions, as if the confines of the Defiant were strewn with diamonds.
Sealed from the rest of the ship, Cessqa thought. We need to find whatever means they've used to do so, and breach it.
She led the way, blade out of its sheath. Risa had done the same. Cessqa charged the blade – it would operate as a powerful energy weapon when the time came. Though for close quarter combat, she preferred it as a sword.
They stalked the exposed innards of the Union starship, weapons at the ready. Both of them, Cessqa and Risa, the finest warriors the Namar had ever seen. And both ready to spill as much human blood as possible in the name of what was once a great empire. In the hope – in the promise – that it would be great again.
*
Chief Gunn led the Commander, Ensign Rayne, and Lieutenant Banks out of the engineering section, along with most of her team. She left only those needed for specific tasks. A dozen men and women she trusted to get their respective jobs done without her guidance.
"They'll be all right in here on their own?" Greene asked.
"Sure. Don't sweat it. Right now we need to get these relays sorted. Get the Defiant back up and running best we can," Gunn explained as she led her team away from engineering. She had enough bodies to get the job done quickly. If they hurried.
It's always a rush, she thought with disdain. Always a last minute save-the-world job. Cut the blue wire, cut the red wire.Boom! Boom! B!.
"This way," she said, turning a corner. Had she turned the one opposite, she might have collided with the two Namarian warriors making their way toward engineering with their swords drawn.
They might have stopped what was to come. Or delayed it.
In either case, the continued toward the relays in the hopes of reviving the Defiant.
34.
Eisenhower handed them each a rifle. Dollar had managed to rally together twenty men and women, some of them replicants. Captain King had led them to the hangar deck, where Master At Arms Eisenhower held the key to the best of the Defiant's weapons.
"I see you've got your trusty blade there, Dolarhyde," Eisenhower said as he handed out the last rifle.
"Sure thing," Dollar said.
"Okay. Dollar and I will take the lead. Chang and Eisenhower at the rear. The rest of you will take the centre of our group, and carry the extra weapons. We'll sweep through the ship. Rally together everyone we meet. Lock the ship down section by section," King said.
"If they're here already, we'll find 'em," Dollar said.
"Right. Let's get on it. Quiet as you can everyone. If anyone from the Jandala is already aboard, we don't want to give them any kind of advantage. Now move."
*
Cessqa watched with relative detachment as the last engineer hung off the end of her blade, stuck through his middle, face twisted in agony as she lifted him off the deck. He slid down the length of the sword, blood gushing from his torso.
This is what I have craved, she thought. The killing. The sensation of carving through flesh with steel.
With one swift movement. she flicked her sword to the side, sending him flying at the same time. Another flick of her wrist rid her blade of blood. It spattered up the side of a console in a bright red line.
The engineers' work lights had fallen around them, leaving haphazard pockets of illumination. Risa wasted no time in locating the Defiant's rapidly cooling reactor.
"Here it is," she said.
Cessqa went to her side, regarded the heart of the Defiant with her silvery eyes as if it were something from the stone ages.
"We have slept for a millennia, and this is the best they can do . . ." she said.
Risa knelt on the floor, shrugged off a pack around her shoulder and opened it. Inside were the sort of explosives any terrorist in history would have recognised with ease. Small packages of tightly-packed, moldable material. Bound in shiny polymer.
"Still, it will blow just as well as any other," Risa said, patting one of the explosives. "Like a sun."
An errant memory, of a sunset on their homeworld. It washed over her. She remembered the deep orange light. The warm air on her skin. How it had felt back then, many lifetimes ago.
"Do it," Cessqa ordered, returning to the present. "Blow them to whatever they think of as hell."
35.
Before they reached the engineering section, Jessica and the others found themselves blinded by the lights around them. It took a moment for their eyes to adjust to the sudden illumination.
"The Chief must've got the backups working again," Chang said. "That means lights, life support and intership communications at least."
"All the better for us," Jessica said.
She was the first one in the engineering section. It was a blood bath. Men and women lay sprawled on the floor, over consoles, some of them intact, some not. And farther away, two tall, pale aliens stood by the reactor. One of them turned around.
Cessqa.
"Fall back! Fall back!" Jessica yelled. She ducked behind a console, grimacing at the sticky puddle of blood under her feet. Chang took her position behind a console on the other side.
There were no translators in the engineering section. Cessqa yelled in her direction, but it was senseless bile. However, there was no mistaking it for friendly chatter.
She's in a rage, Jessica thought. As am I. How many has she killed here?
"Captain," Chang said on the other side. "They're doing something to the reactor."
King poked her head up again. They hadn't stopped. Cessqa was evidently not concerned that they would risk firing in the direction of their own reactor. However it didn't stop her taking a few shots at her. The blasts struck the front of the console as Jessica ducked back down behind it.
What was she shooting from? she asked herself. Then she realised, replaying the last few seconds, that the shots had come from her sword. From the blade itself. How?
"Outside," Jessica told Chang. She got back up, aimed her weapon to the right of the two Namarians and opened fire. They ducked instinctively, even though Jessica had no intentions of aiming any closer to them, for risk of hitting the reactor.
Chang dived back out of the door. Jessica let loose a few more shots, backing away to the door herself.
Cessqa lifted her sword, the blade glowed a deep red before bursts of energy came her way, sizzling against the wall to her left. She stepped back into the corridor outside, the doors to the engineering section closed shut behind her.
"What do we do? There's no way of taking them," Chang said.
Dollar strode forward. "I'll do it," he said.
Jessica caught his arm. "Not right now. There'll be a way out of this yet. But going in there like that will be suicide. You'll be fried the minute you walk through the door."
Dollar accepted it. "It's your call. You're the boss."
"Contact the Chief if you can," Jessica told Chang. "Tell her the situation here."
36.
"Chief! Chief this is Chang!"
Gunn looked up at the comm. unit as if it had sprouted a face, arms and legs. She shook her head to clear it, got up off the deck and hit the buttons.
"Go ahead."
"The engineering section has been occupied by Namar. We're in the process of getting them out. But you better get up here. We think they have something strapped to the reactor."
Meryl swallowed. Oh God.
"I'm on my way," she said.
Commander Greene was on his feet, his face grave. "I'm coming with you."
She left with him in tow. Banks looked at the others. "Well I guess that means I'm in charge. Come on people, keep going."
*
They waited in the corridor, a ways from the entrance to the engineering section.
There was cover there, but not much of it.
"So ya thinkin' they'll try and make a quick exit," Dollar said.
"If they're planning on blowing us up, then yes," Jessica said. "At which point we chase them down and the Chief deals with whatever is it they've done."
"You expect an explosive?" Eisenhower asked.
"Could it really be anything else? It's what I'd do," King said. "And if Meryl can't get it deactivated, there's only one other option."
"Evacuation . . ." the Master At Arms said. "Not an agreeable outcome of all this."
"No," Jessica said. "But if I have to, I will. This ship is just a ship."
But that's not true is it? she asked herself as she watched the doors to the engineering section for any sign they were coming out. It's a home. And it will break your heart to lose it.
"Still, it'll be a shame," Eisenhower said.
"Yes," Jessica agreed. "Yes it will."
*
Commander Greene grabbed hold of the Chief's wrist to stop her racing ahead.
"Hey, wait," he urged her.
"Del, we don't have time for this!"
He yanked her toward him, pulled her in close. Kissed her full on the lips.
"There's always time for a kiss," he said.
"Right, now can we go before the ship blows like a firework?"
As if to punctuate her point, several blasts erupted ahead of them. Energy weapons screeching as they were discharged in the confines of the ship.
"Jesus," he said, staring in that direction.
Meryl was already off. "Come on!"
*
Cessqa raised her blade again. It pulsed with red energy, then she fired it at them. Where it hit the floor and the walls, it erupted in thick, acrid smoke. The two Namarians slowly backed away down the corridor.
They aren't sticking around, Jessica thought. A knot of dread tied itself in the pit of her stomach. That means something's going to blow on here. By the looks of things, it'll be the reactor.
Someone threw himself down next to her. She glanced to see who it was.
"Commander, pleased you could join us," she said, handing him a rifle.
"Thanks," Greene said. He checked it had charge, then started moving. "Dollar, you're with me."
"No Del!" Jessica shouted, but it was too late. The moment the words left her mouth, she knew they shouldn't have.
Greene moved, firing at the retreating Namar warriors. Dollar rushed them with him, also firing.
And there was a third person, close behind them. The Chief.
*
She ran into the engineering section, Jessica and all the others behind her. There was only one place Gunn knew she had to look. And sure as anything, there they were.
Explosives.
"Chief," Jessica said, walking toward her. "Do you think you can deactivate them?"
"Not sure. I'll have to look."
The Chief wiped sweat off her brow. Always a last minute save-the-world job. Cut the blue wire, cut the red wire. Boom! Boom! Boom! she thought again. Boom! Boom! Boom!She knelt down next to one of them, and with trembling hands began to uncover it.
37.
They ran after her, racing along the corridors of the semi-dark Defiant, a silent scream in their throats. A battle cry they didn't give airtime to.
At the threshold of another deck, Cessqa spun about, levelling her weapon in their direction. She had it pointed directly at Dollar.
Cessqa fired. Dollar stepped to the side. Her discharged energy bolts struck the wall he'd previously stood by.
She took a step forward, advanced on him, weapon still raised.
Right then, Greene took a shot at her. It narrowly missed. Cessqa roared with rage and contempt. She knocked Dollar to one side. He staggered, hit the bulkhead.
Greene aimed his rifle, got ready to fire. To end her.
But the Namarian female was a shade faster. As Greene diverted his eyes to the rifle, as if it would protect him from everything, Cessqa lunged in with a spear. By the time it was done, Cessqa was already on the move again.
Del had dropped to the floor, on his knees, holding his midsection.
38.
Cessqa once more braved the void. With Risa close behind, she consigned herself to the immensity of open space, to the simplicity of merely existing.
What lay beyond was the Jandala, her now broken ship. She hurtled from the open gash along the length of the Defiant, crossing from one to the other, as if there were a rope bridge.
*
On the secondary command deck, all systems had booted back up.
Jessica slipped into the pilot's station and started to fire the Defiant's engines. To her delight it was all working.
But will we pull apart?
"Well there's only one way to find out," she said aloud.
*
It was unlike anything she'd ever seen. Whirring from some hidden, alien mechanics, the sound was disconcerting. The design made it very hard for to discern which wire did what, but she took an educated guess anyway. After all, none of it was much different to what she'd cut her teeth on back at the Academy.
Cut the blue wire, cut the red wire, Boom! Boom! Boom!
With an assertive snip, she followed her gut instinct in choosing which set of wires to cut. The device stopped dead.
"Good work, Chief," Jessica said. "I'm going to the secondary command deck. Get us out of here. Keep me posted."
"Aye," the Chief said. Then she tackled the second one, hoping beyond hope that she still had time.
*
The Defiant tore free of its entanglement with the enemy. Under Jessica's heavy handed approach to piloting, the Union vessel pulled free from where it had become trapped amongst the broken hull of the Jandala. It left a huge open gash there.
*
Dollar hit the nearest comm. unit and called for the Chief. Then he sat near Commander Greene, holding his hand tight.
"Hold in there, pal," he told him. "Hold in there."
39.
The Jandala had spawned more drones to cope with the enormous job of repairing the ship's primary systems. They'd cleared Gelvin's body away. It would be recycled, possibly into more of the drones – if that had not happened already.
The Namar were not a wasteful, uneconomical species. The intelligence that performed many of the Jandala's functions, allowing only a skeleton crew to command her, had appointed them to the areas needing the most attention.
"We've got power back," Risa told her. "Shall we attack?"
The holodisplay still broken, the two of them peered at a monitor at the back of the command deck. It showed the Defiant moving off.
Cessqa shook her head, took to the controls and set about piloting them away. Risa's face reflected the disbelief she felt at Cessqa's actions. "We do not attack?"
"Not yet. We have more important things to do. The refuge is not far from here. We need to know if it's still in one piece," Cessqa said.
Risa crossed her arms. "I do not understand . . ."
Cessqa raised an eyebrow. "Fortunate since you are not in charge. Assist me by getting the repairs done so we get there as fast as possible, and in one piece. We still do not have shields. They will easily outgun us. We must regroup."
Risa nodded slowly. "Yes. Yes, of course."
"We will have our moment, Risa. We will have our retribution. You must trust my instincts in this matter," Cessqa told her.
Moments later, they initiated the Jump and were gone.
*
"They've jumped," Chang reported. "Shall I attempt to ascertain –"
"No. Let them go. There's been enough fighting for one day," King said, exhausted.
"Yes Captain," Chang said, though King found it hard to determine if the Commander sounded relieved or disappointed.
"Banks, get us out of here. Set course for Station Six and step on it," King ordered.
"Aye."
"Jess . . ."
Captain King looked up.
"Chief?" she called out, loud enough the audio pickup would hear it. Gunn hardly ever called her by her first name, and never over the internal communication system. "Everything all right down there?"
There was a long pause, then, "Jess . . . get down here."
It turned her stomach to jelly. She stood, glanced around her. "Commander, you have the bridge."
She left. At a run.
40.
He was almost dead before she got there.
Jessica's first instinct was to rush forward, get down to his level and speak to him. Get him to acknowledge her presence there. Give her some kind of signal that he knew she was nearby. But it didn't feel right.
Commander Greene lay on his back, outstretched sideways across Chief Meryl Gunn's lap. She had his head propped up on one arm, and with the hand of the other she gently stroked his face.
Jessica stopped short. It was all she could do to stand there, helpless.
"Stay with me, Del," Gunn said. "Stay with me."
Dr. Clayton appeared next to Jessica. She looked down at his hands. They were covered in blood.
"Doctor?"
Clayton shook his head. His eyes were rimmed red and sore. "No."
Gunn turned at Jessica's voice. "Jess, come over. Del, Jessica's here."
Her feet carried her there, and she didn't remember getting down on the floor but now she was there, next to the Chief.
Commander Greene looked up at her, his eyes pleading for something he couldn't vocalise. Something she couldn't give him.
Life.
He reached up, his hand fell to the centre of her chest. As close to her heart as he could manage, she supposed. She held it there, tears spilled out of her eyes, her vision blurred.
"Del . . ." she said, managing a smile.
His eyes were glassy, barely focused. "It's been an honour," he said.
She squeezed his hand.
"You were like a brother," she said in a broken voice. "And I loved you like a brother."
Del squeezed her. "Your Father would have been proud."
It was almost too much for her to take. He looked once more at the Chief, his face growing pale and waxy. Jessica let go of his hand, let it fall down her uniform where it left a red streaked handprint.
She got up, stepped back to give them some space. Only now did she notice the puddle of blood that surrounded where he lay. The Chief was in that blood, covered in it.
Del Greene's face lost its colour and vitality. His eyes clouded over, though still locked onto the Chief's. Jessica realised with shocking clarity that Gunn's would be the last face her friend ever saw.
Meryl cradled him, and from where she stood, Jessica watched as his lips moved, formed soundless words.
I love you.
"I will always love you," Gunn said. "Always."
And with that, he was gone. The Chief closed his eyes and sat rocking him back and forth, sobbing. "Don't leave me . . . don't leave me . . ."
Jessica turned away, unable to watch any more. For a handful of seconds, she found herself unable to catch a breath. It was only when she started to move, with the exit in sight that she drew in deep breaths again. She found the nearest head and threw up in it.
41.
The peach and violet hues of the Chimera Cluster drifted past. Cessqa was eager to return to her people, eager to feel almost realistic gravity of the giant cylinder under her feet.
"There it is," Risa said.
Cessqa studied the readout. Ahead of them, a bank of nebula gas roiled about a huge, looming shape. A black tube.
"We are home," Cessqa said. "This isn't done. There will be other battles. Other conflicts. This is not over. It has only begun."
42.
The secondary command deck was in a state of chaos, though all systems still functioned. Jessica almost expected to see Commander Greene there – which made things all the more raw and painful to bear.
"Captain . . ." Lisa Chang said, rising from her seat. The Commander's eyes fell to the bloody smear down the front of Jessica's uniform.
She looked down, felt a rush of nausea at the sight of it. Numbly, Captain King looked back up though she didn't say anything. By now everyone else had turned to watch her as she walked slowly to the front of the bridge.
Banks eyed her warily, seemingly in disbelief King was actually up there. The viewscreen showed the receding Mobius Formation, almost reduced to a silvery speck against the backdrop of the cosmos.
"Time till we arrive at Station six?" Jessica asked, her voice dry and cracked. She was only now aware of the heat in her cheeks, the dried tears around her eyes.
The hanging weight of grief around her heart.
Banks cleared his throat. "Approximately thirteen hours at our present speed."
She nodded weakly in acknowledgment, then turned and headed for the exit.
Chang's voice did not conceal her worry. "Captain . . ." she said again.
Jessica stopped, turned about. "Not now," she said then left.
*
In her quarters, the Defiant underway, she sat and cried. The tears were hot, full of salt and they ran down her face in rivers. Her chest heaved, and when she tried to drink the vodka she'd poured, Jessica found herself entirely unable. The pain was immense. So much so, her hands trembled.
She forgot her drink, stripped out of her filthy uniform and climbed into bed. There, with the covers up to her chin, she finally felt some modicum of comfort.
Safety.
"Star of wonder . . ." she whispered in the dark. The Defiant hummed around her, a steady harmony of power and strength.
Captain Jessica King closed her eyes. She could still see him, face losing its colour and vitality. Eyes clouding over as he looked up at Meryl, her cradling him to her in his last moments. His lips had moved, formed the words.
I love you.
No voice. It wasn't needed, in any case. Watching that, it had hit her right in the gut. Meryl had closed his eyes after the light behind them was extinguished, and sat there on the deck, rocking him back and forth as she sobbed.
As Jessica was now.
Why do we always lose in the end? Our friends . . . our family . . . we lose everything . . .
The grief made her ache all over. She drew a deep breath and, shaky as her voice was, she found it within herself to sing the rest. Because it was for Del. His memory of his Mother lulling him to sleep with that hymn was now bestowed upon her. By repeating the words, it was like he was still there. Like he no long ceased to exist. Because that awful truth was all too real.
So she lay on her bed and her thoughts remained on Commander Del Greene, her friend of more years than she could remember. She thought of his one-liners, his hot temper, how he'd been prone to accidents. All of it. And though she hurt, inside and out, it made her smile nevertheless. He had held onto his own memory of his Mother. Well, now she had her way of remembering him. Hadn't someone once said that the dead are not dead so long as we remember them?
She hummed the tune, her voice husky and cracked. "Da dee da da, da dee dee . . ."
VENGEANCE
PART I
The Hymns Of Childhood
1.
She could still see his face in her dreams, every night.
. . . Greene looked up at her, his eyes pleading for something he couldn't vocalise. Something she couldn't give him.
Life.
He reached up. His hand fell to the centre of her chest. As close to her heart as he could manage, she supposed. She held it there; tears spilled out of her eyes; her vision blurred . . .
Jessica clenched the bed sheets, writhing back and forth. "No . . . no . . ."
. . . His eyes were glassy, barely focused. "It's been an honour," he said.
She squeezed his hand.
"You were like a brother," she said in a broken voice. "And I loved you like a brother."
Del squeezed her. "Your Father would have been proud . . ."
Now she stood on the bridge, the lone occupant of the entire vessel. Everything still around her. The only sound, the constant hum of the engines, the reactor core. The deck shifted under her feet, the front of the bridge broke away and she went flying out into the vacuum. Jessica tumbled out toward the darkness, an inky black canvas populated by a billion tiny lights as she cart wheeled uncontrollably.
"NO . . . !" she yelled, using every last breath of air in her lungs –
*
– her eyes snapped open. The dim lights of her guest quarters aboard Station 6 allowed Jessica to regain her bearings in seconds. Her heart threatened to jackhammer out of her chest. She sat up, panting.
I'm on the station. Calm down.
Hard to do, especially when you'd been having the same dream over and over again for weeks. A subconscious cocktail of the same rotten memories, regurgitated by her psyche every night – doomed to relive the same memories.
And the more it happened, the more she suffered . . .
Jessica got up, stretched, unsure of the time and similarly lacking the concern to check. She felt clammy. A glance back at her bunk and she could see her sheets soaked through with sweat.
She ran a hand over her face, took a deep breath. Her heart slowly returned to its normal rhythm.
What's wrong with me?
*
The steaming hot water washed the fog of sleep away. She took her time in the shower, less than willing to leave the steamy cocoon of the cubicle. She'd always found that no matter how bad a time you were having, the solitude of a hot shower could work wonders. Cleansing the body and the soul.
Jessica got out, towelled herself off, and dressed in her uniform. Checked the time. Not even four. Too early to catch breakfast on the station. It wouldn't be up and running for another hour at least, she knew.
She left her quarters. It felt liberating to walk the labyrinthine corridors of Station 6 and not end up jostled left and right by the ever-present surge of the crowds. That early in the morning, people were either finishing up on night shifts, or just waking up. It happened to be a golden hour for walking unmolested.
Jessica headed for docking bay eleven. The cooks on Station 6 might not be so willing to rise early and feed insomniacs, but those aboard Defiant could always be called upon for an impromptu plate of pancakes when needed. And that could be just what the doctor called for.
2.
It had been a difficult time. Directly following their battle with Cessqa, Jessica directed the crew from the Emergency Command Centre. She ordered the ship to return to Station 6.
The Defiant limped home, shutting down twice along the way. The Chief, for what it was worth, didn't stop working the whole time. Full of grief, yet still able to perform in her role and hold herself together. From what Jessica had heard, she'd still had Commander Greene's blood on her hands as she repaired vital systems in order to get them home. She didn't have the heart to tell Meryl to stop, knowing it was probably the only thing keeping her together.
And sure enough, when they got back, Gunn still didn't stop. Keeping busy was preferable to sitting around. Sitting around meant you started to think, and clearly that wasn't something Gunn wished to do.
If she stops, who knows? She might find herself reliving it all, over and over, Jessica thought as she stepped aboard the Defiant.
The old ship was still in bad shape. At the climax of her titanic struggle with Cessqa, Jessica had ordered a collision course. The Defiant ploughed into the Jandala. The Union ship's front end had crumpled like a tin can from the collision. That specific damage remained untouched by the repair crews.
The Chief had focused on getting the worst of the internal damage fixed before she turned her attention to the Defiant's bow. For now, those decks were sealed tight. An entire section of the Defiant lay in darkness, open on one side to the extreme temperatures and pressures of the void.
Not that we're going anywhere right now.
Jessica took a slow stroll through the ship, taking her time getting to the Mess Hall. Inside, it looked a lot different to how it had immediately following the battle. Pieces of hull, shrapnel, wires and cables had lain everywhere. Now it was clean and tidy in there, everything in its right place.
A far cry from the chaotic state in which they'd returned.
*
Ordinarily, a return to base would be a triumphant affair. A positive occasion. It meant rest. It meant downtime for all concerned.
Not then. They'd limped home with their tails between their legs . . . and the morgue full of fresh cadavers.
I hate to think of them like that, Jessica thought as she watched the station appear. But that's what they are now. The people they were – the friends they were – are gone now. All that's left is . . . a shell. The spirit's fled.
"Approaching station six," Banks reported groggily. He'd been at the helm for more than a day at that point, defying her every order to leave his station. He got up from his seat only for refreshment and an occasional trip to the head after which he slumped back into his chair, hands carefully controlling the Defiant's flight back to base.
Now the station loomed into view and he shifted, sat up straighter. More alert.
He knows he's at the end. Soon as he's docked, I'm having him escorted to his quarters. There's one thing he needs, and that's sleep.
"Ensign Rayne, please contact station six and tell them we are about to dock at number eleven. We are in desperate need of repairs."
"Yes Ma'am," Rayne said.
"Slow to one fifth, Mister Banks."
"Aye," he said.
Jessica couldn't help it. She looked to her left, as though she expected to see the Commander there. But of course there was only empty space where he might have been. Her heart sighed in her chest.
"Matching orbital rotation," Banks told her.
"Good. Easy does it," Jessica said. "Nice and smooth. This old girl has had enough knocks, I think. We should at least be able to park her straight."
"Amen," the helmsman said. The Defiant slowly rounded on Station 6 and Banks lined her up. He increased the Defiant's speed to match that of the station itself. The broken ship edged closer and closer to the dock. A soft judder echoed throughout the Defiant. "Soft dock," Banks said.
"Equalize pressures, run all environmental control checks you need to," Jessica told Chang. "The sooner we get everyone off, the better."
"Understood Captain," Chang said.
Jessica got up, looked around. "You've all done me proud. You've done us all proud . . . but most importantly, you have done so to yourselves. Despite who we lost on this mission, don't let it detract from your own exemplary performance."
She headed off the command centre, eager to be doing something with herself. On her way, she slapped Banks on the shoulder.
"And you will get yourself to bed. This is a direct order now. Don't try to argue it."
Banks looked up, broke into a weak smile. "I will. I promise. Now she's back safe."
"Good," Jessica said and left for her quarters. "Good."
*
She slumped into one of the chairs in her quarters, her whole body aching. She spotted the glasses on the side, and her thoughts turned to the open bottle of Galactic Core Vodka in her freezer unit. Jessica was soon back on her feet, fixing herself a stiff measure of neat vodka. She'd left it so long in the unit, the Vodka had turned slushy. Ice cold.
The door chimed.
"Come in," she yelled across. The door parted to show the Chief, miserable and exhausted."Chief."
"Captain, if it's a bad time I can always . . ."
"No, don't be absurd," Jessica said. She showed the Chief Engineer to her sofa, told her to sit. "I was just about to have a drink, would you like one?"
"I've not had a better offer all day," Gunn said. She seemed quieter, deflated. As if the guts had been kicked out of her. "Was it a good dock? No problems?"
"No. Did you think we would?" Jessica asked. She poured them both ice cold vodka.
Gunn shook her head. "Not really. I did wonder if some of the damage we took from the collision might impede our docking ops, but obviously I was worried over nothing."
"Drink up," Jessica handed her the glass. They both threw it back. The vodka went down too easily, with barely a sting of heat. That was the difference between slinging vodka and scotch. One made itself apparent from the get go. The other snuck up on you, knocking you on your arse when you least expected it.
"Don't you usually drink scotch?" Gunn asked as Jessica took her glass to pour them both refills.
"I do," Jessica said as she poured the vodka. "However, this time it felt right to drink this. Del gave me the bottle not so long ago. Told me to drink it ice cold."
The Chief bit back tears as they clinked glasses in a silent toast, then drank the spirit in one go.
Gunn put her glass to one side, eyes red.
"Hey, Chief . . . you okay?"
"I will be," Gunn said. "Maybe. After a while."
Jessica looked down at her own empty glass. She turned it in her hands, as if the empty vessel held all the answers. All it had to offer was a reminder of what was gone. Of what had been there. "I guess I know what you mean, Chief," she said quietly.
Gunn didn't say anything. She stared off into space.
"I can't get his face out of my mind. His eyes," Jessica said. She fought back the grief, the hurt. "I miss him already."
"He loved you like a sister," Gunn told her, looking up.
Jessica reached out, took the Chief's hands in her own. "Thanks Meryl. I know he did. And he was like a brother to me. Close as I'll ever get."
Meryl drew in a breath. Tears rolled down her cheeks. "Do you think it gets easier over time?" she asked between sobs.
Jessica shrugged. She was crying herself now. She looked up at the ceiling of her quarters, searching for something. Anything to give a reason to events. To anchor what had happened to something a human could comprehend. Death always had a way of being such an elusive mystery.
"I don't know," she said. "But I sure do hope so . . ."
*
The funeral service was for all those who lost their lives in the confrontation with Cessqa and the Commander's had been left till the end.
The Chief spoke first, talking of her early experiences with Greene, how they became friends. After making the attendees laugh and cry with her earnest reflections on the Commander, she welcomed King up on stage to speak.
Jessica hadn’t prepared much by way of words. Nerves fluttered like errant moths in her stomach. When she took the podium, however, she discarded the few notes she had and just let the words come.
She thanked everyone for attending, then gave a little insight into what he’d been like as a right-hand man, a colleague and friend for all those years. She gave a little flavour of what Del had been like as a man, separate from his rank and responsibilities. "He was a friend to all. My friend. It will take me a long time to get used to the fact that he is never going to come back," she said, her voice cracking. "But of course I will never forget him. He’ll always be here, with all of us."
There wasn’t a dry eye in the house. The lid settled down on Del’s casket and sealed tight, the flag of the Union draped across it.
The assembled officers and crew stood to either side of the casket as it lowered into one of the Station’s firing tubes.
Jessica faced the giant viewports and held a formal salute. Everyone followed suit.
The gentle tinkle of "We Three Kings" lent the scene a sombre air. The firing tube closed around the casket. Seconds later it shot from the side of the Station. Through her tears, King tried to watch it travel away from them as long as she could. But it was just a blur, until it achieved sufficient distance. Its contents committed to the stars for all time.
*
Before the service, Jessica had found herself in the chapel, standing over Del's casket. He looked at peace. They'd dressed him in full ceremonial uniform, as outlined in his own personal will. All senior officers were required to have one. Captain Singh's will had been of little help. Jessica figured he'd not liked to consider his own death. Del, on the other hand, had stipulated certain requests for his service. One of those was to go dressed to the nines in full regalia.
The other was the choice of song as he was committed to space.
"I still don't know the significance of that hymn," Gunn later confessed to Jessica as they stood around at the wake. The drinks were flowing, a band played sombre music. All in attendance chatted freely with one another. Jessica considered telling the Chief what Del had told her. But it seemed special, somehow. That he'd opened up like that.
No, this memory is mine, she thought. Mine for keeps.
"I don't know," Jessica lied. She sipped her wine.
The Commander's third wish had been somewhat unorthodox, yet Jessica had been able to clear it with the Admiral.
"You're serious? That's what it says in there?" Grimshaw had asked, eyebrow cocked.
"Yes. He says he is to be shot out into space, as usual, then blown to smithereens. After all, the caskets are little more than empty torpedo casings anyway," she told him. "I think he was scared some alien race might pick him up, centuries later."
"It's completely out of order," the Admiral remarked. He sighed. "But I'll authorise it. Least we can do. The man was a hero."
"Thank you, sir."
*
They watched his casket shrink into the distance.
"And now, as per his request, we not only consign his body to the stars, but to oblivion," she said. At that his casket detonated in a burst of bright light. Everyone gasped, took a step back. As though it had never been there, the explosion faded and was gone in seconds. So too, was he.
*
Now, weeks later, it was still there. Raw. Open. A wound that had barely healed since what happened. Indeed it might not heal at all.
"Thanks," Jessica said to the cook. She took her tray and sat down. There was a plate of eggs and bacon, a cup of coffee loaded with cream and sugar. There were a few crew men and women there but, for the most part, the mess was empty. The reassuring beat of the Defiant's reactor was a welcome constant in the background as she drank some coffee.
"Captain?"
She looked up. "Oh. Chief."
I was just thinking about you, she didn't add.
"Room for one more?"
"Yeah, pick a pew," Jessica said. She watched Chief Gunn sit opposite. She had a coffee and nothing else. "You're not eating?"
"A bit early for me," Gunn said. "I'm surprised to see you eating breakfast so early yourself."
"Well, my body clock's changed. Can't sleep."
The Chief sipped her coffee.
"I have my meeting with Grimshaw tomorrow," Jessica told her, trying to break the silence that had settled between them. "I should find out what's happening to us."
"Not a lot, I don't think," Gunn said.
"Really? What makes you say that?"
"When we headed out to look at the Enigma, Grimshaw didn't care what it took to get the Defiant refitted and replenished," Gunn said. "Spared no expense. But this time around, I've had to scrape together what I could to fix her up as I have. And she's not great, Jess. Far from it."
"Maybe I can have a word with him when I see him tomorrow."
"Hmm. Maybe. I just think there's a reason we've been left in limbo. Like they don't want us taking the Defiant back out."
Jessica shook her head. "They wouldn't ground her, Chief. She's operational. Despite appearances, of course."
Gunn shrugged. "I'm just saying. I think she's got too many miles on the clock for their liking."
Jessica looked down at her breakfast. Suddenly she didn't feel so hungry.
*
As she walked to her quarters, after bidding the Chief farewell, Jessica wondered if Meryl might have a point.
When they'd returned, Grimshaw had offered her lodgings aboard the station.
"I'll be fine, sir. My quarters were undamaged," she'd told him.
"I insist," Grimshaw had said.
Why? Was it strictly because the Defiant was in such bad shape elsewhere, that he didn't think it fitting to allow her to stay aboard like that?
Or was it that he knew of something else in the pipeline? A development concerning her and her crew that he'd held back for some reason?
Jessica entered her quarters to gather some more of her belongings. She pulled several uniform tunics off the rail, dropped them on the edge of the bed. She didn't need all of them, just a few spare.
Her eyes fell to the tunic she'd worn that day. The one she'd stuffed in the closet and forgotten about.
It still had Commander Greene's bloody handprint down the front.
"Your Father would have been proud."
It was almost too much for her to take. He looked once more at the Chief, his face growing pale and waxy. Jessica let go of his hand, let it fall down her uniform where it left a streaked, red handprint . . .
Jessica picked it up, looked at it more closely. The blood had dried to a brownish stain now. She made to stuff it into the trash chute, but instead found herself hanging it back up. Her mind flashed to him on the floor, his hand in hers. The way it fell down the front of her tunic.
Their conversation earlier. The hymn from his childhood.
Commander Greene looked sideways at the twinkling lights beyond the viewport. He looked almost wistful, longing.
"Da dee da da, da dee dee . . ." he sang softly, barely audible.
Jessica's brows rose in surprise. "Del, I never took you for a singer."
He laughed. "I'm not. It's just something my Mother used to sing to me."
"Really?"
"You don't recognise it?"
She shook her head.
"Da dee da da, da dee dee," he hummed again. "Star of wonder, star of night . . ."
"Oh. What is it? Where's it from?"
"An old hymn or something. I dunno. I've never forgotten it though. All these years and I still find myself humming it in the shower," the Commander said. He looked down at the coffee cup in his hands, bashful. "Mother used to sing it all the time, like a comfort. Silly, really."
"No it's not," she said.
She sorted through some more of her clothes, stuffed them into a holdall. Still, she left plenty there, her intention being to return to those quarters in the near future. Jessica sang to herself, softly, barely loud enough to hear as she headed for the door. "Star of wonder, star of night . . ."
3.
I could get used to this, Commander Lisa Chang thought as she gazed at the view beyond the large sheet of glass separating her quarters from outside space.
Since they'd returned, she'd grown accustomed to the rotating panorama of cosmos afforded her as the station turned on its axle. The fact that she had the lights off and stood naked in front of it as she did so made the experience even more spectacular.
"Here," Olivia Rayne whispered. She covered Chang's shoulders with a thin blanket. "You've been there half hour. Maybe it's time to cover up with something."
Chang grinned. "It bugs you that I like being like this, doesn't it?"
Rayne shook her head. "No. But I do wonder how you don't get cold. I mean, you do have it like an ice block in here. The air conditioning is way too high."
She shrugged. "You get used to it."
Olivia had often walked around naked in the quarters they shared together aboard Station 6, mostly at the same time as her. And yes, they had enjoyed some fine evenings watching the view outside, a glass of wine each. Soft music over the speakers. Their two bodies touching . . .
But she didn't care to be that way all the time.
"Well, I don't know about you, but I like clothes. They're warm. Comfortable. You should try them. Besides, it only takes someone with a pair of good binoculars to go looking out their window as they pass the station . . ."
Chang laughed. Even in the semi-dark she could see Rayne wore pyjama bottoms and a vest. "Funny," Lisa said. She sat down on the sofa.
Olivia settled in next to her. "You know it's the middle of the night," she said.
"Yeah."
"And I'm not making something bigger out of this, but you have been doing this every couple of days. Getting up, coming out here and watching the stars. Should I be contacting Doctor Clayton any time soon? Tell him to prepare for some kind of psychosis?"
"No," Chang said. "I just like the quiet. The peace. It's been nice."
"It has," Rayne admitted.
"You mean living together here, on the station," Chang said.
"Why? What did you mean?"
Chang laughed again. "Don't over exert yourself, Olivia."
"Cheeky."
Lisa hugged her tight. Kissed the top of her head. They both watched as a small ship crossed from right to left, lights twinkling.
"All of it's been great," Chang said. "That's what I meant. Really. Being together the way we have. I've loved it."
"But it doesn't change what happened, does it?"
She shook her head. "No. No, it doesn't. That's why I can't sleep, Olivia. It's why I come out here, nothing on, and stare into space. Because it makes the thoughts go away. Makes the memories fade."
Olivia didn't say anything. She had no need to.
What needed to be voiced existed in the realm of the unsaid, in the heavy silence. Olivia cleared her throat. "Just promise me you'll start wearing some clothes, okay?"
"Sure," Chang said and pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders. Olivia could have been sure her lover shivered next to her. As if she'd been feeling the cold all along.
*
Chief Gunn worked till she dropped, till she physically couldn't continue. Then she showered; she ate, then drank something strong enough to get her to sleep.
And after, she dreamed.
. . . The pulsing light of the reactor surged around them as Commander Greene pulled the Chief in close and kissed her hard, firm on the lips. For a split second she resisted, surprised by his spontaneity – then she sagged in his arms, lost in his embrace.
The Chief reached up as they kissed, let her fingers slip through his hair. It was a long moment, heightened by what they'd just achieved, by their deep love and desire for one another. By the beating heart of the Defiant they'd both managed to restore. It throbbed, the air around them vibrating.
And yet they stayed that way for a long time. Eventually she pulled away from him, and he looked at her with big, fierce eyes.
I want you, they said. I love you. I need you . . .
Always that. Little could she have known that Captain King also revisited the same moments, the same memories. They washed up.
Like the ancient green water that churned up from the sea bed in a storm. Sailors in Earth's past had known that it was a bad omen, that it meant the storm was turning into a wild one once it kicked that old green water up from the bottom.
Del's death was more than a bad one, Gunn thought. It was catastrophic for me.
Now she found herself bedding down for the night, knocking back one glass of tequila after another. Not stopping until the warm hands of sleep found a way of closing her eyes. Making her feel heavy and relaxed. Until that washed over her, she would keep on going. Drink drink drink.
. . . she cradled him as his lips moved, formed soundless words.
I love you.
"I will always love you," Gunn said. "Always."
And with that, he was gone. Meryl closed his eyes and sat rocking him back and forth, sobbing. "Don't leave me . . . don't leave me . . ."
The Chief swallowed another shot of tequila, sat back and closed her eyes. In the morning, she would hear good or bad news. Either way, none of it would ever be the same. None of it would ever bring Del back to her. There was no reset button. Life for them all had changed forever.
Del had been the only man who'd ever actively shown an interest in her. Not just as a friend, either, but romantically. And the only one who'd truly got her as a person. Who understood why she had to be the way she was. It was how she worked – not only in her role, but as a person. Without her persona, what was she?
A lonely woman.
The Chief tried to dream of something else. Anything at all that wouldn't return her to that place. To his death.
But it always went the same way. Turned in the same direction, regardless.
That corridor . . . the Commander in her arms.
"Don't leave me . . . don't leave me . . ."
And on and on. When would it stop? When would it ever stop?
*
"Are you going to carry on working on that thing?" Selena asked him.
Dollar wheeled himself out from beneath the Dragonfly, a grin on his face.
"Sorry, darlin'. Got myself carried away."
Dragonfly had seen some action in their battle with Cessqa, but there was always room for improvement. So many aspects of her configuration he could tweak.
"How much longer are you going to be? I want to go to bed at some point," Selena asked, a note of impatience creeping into her voice. "I know you like being down here in the hangar, playing with yourself. But sometimes it'd be nice to see my boyfriend."
Dollar got up, wiped his hands down the front of his overalls. "Hey sweetheart, you know I love ya."
"I'm starting to question it, to be honest," she said in as serious a tone as she could muster.
It didn't last long before she was smirking. Dollar pulled her in close for a kiss. They parted and he stroked her cheek. "I was just coming."
"I bet you were," she chided.
"I was. Scout's honour."
Now it was her turn to kiss him. "So you're a boy scout now, huh?"
"Betchya," Dollar said.
Selena reached around, grabbed his back end and gave it a healthy squeeze. "Let's see if we can't get you a new merit badge for effort. What d'you think?"
She led him off the hangar deck by the hand. He didn't take much convincing.
4.
Jessica made her way to Admiral Grimshaw's office, the station alive around her. Crowds of people – human, alien, replicant and robotic in nature – moved this way and that. Going from one end of the station to the other. Tides of bodies leaving ships or going to them.
Jessica navigated the masses and found a seat on a shuttle. She sat down with a sigh of relief and let it carry her through the superstructure toward her meeting with the Admiral. She felt nervous. Perhaps it was what the Chief had told her.
The uncertainty of knowing what was going to happen to her crew, her ship . . . her stomach had tied itself in knots.
She stepped off the shuttle and headed down a long corridor, the Admiral's office at the end. She could see the door. Now she saw someone exit into the hallway.
Jessica stopped walking. She felt her breath catch in her chest. The man smiled as he recognised her. He headed straight toward her, and still she could not move.
"Will?" she asked; even saying the name felt strange.
He stepped in close, opened his arms and embraced her. "Jess!"
He gave her a firm, warm squeeze. She could smell his aftershave. The same as it had been, all that time ago. They parted.
Jessica straightened her uniform. She noticed that Will Ardai did not wear his. Instead he wore nondescript black clothing. Functional trousers, a T-Shirt and a black cap. Beneath all that, his tanned skin, finished off with bright blonde hair and a flashy smile.
That smile.
She'd never forgotten it.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, more than a little thrown to bump into him after so many years.
"I'm on assignment," he said cryptically before changing tact. "Hey, anyway, look at you. Haven't aged a day since I last saw you."
"I could say the same about you. But what's with the getup?"
He looked down at himself. "Yeah, not exactly standard issue is it?"
"No. You could say that," she said with a giggle that came out far more girlish than she'd intended.
"I'm with Captain Shaw. He's in the office with Grimshaw, waiting for you."
"Oh? Shaw. Never heard of him."
"He's a great guy, Jess. You'll like him, we've worked together for years. A really strong Captain."
"Well, look, I better get in there. But we'll have to . . . uh . . ." she said awkwardly.
"Meet up?"
"Yes," she said, laughed nervously. "That's what I was going to say. Sorry."
Will grinned at her. His hand fell to her shoulder. She wished it had been her face. She would have turned into it. For the first time in so long, she felt like a girl again. Butterflies in the stomach.
Her worries were dispelled. Forgotten. Pushed away as if they no longer mattered.
"I should be here on the station another day or so. Docking bay seven, though you won't find us on any inventory or manifest," he told her.
She frowned. "What d'you mean?"
He just laughed. "You'll see. Pop by later today and I'll show you around our ship. It's a bit unique. I think you'll like it."
"I will," she said, then: "Come by, I mean. You've sort of thrown me off. I wasn't expecting to see you . . . uh . . . here . . ."
"See you later." He smiled, patted her shoulder, then walked off. Jessica watched him go.
If he turns back to look, to see if I'm watching him, then it's still there. That spark is still there, she thought.
He carried on walking.
Go on. Turn around.
Will reached the end of the corridor and turned back to look at her before passing out of sight. Their eyes locked on each other. She felt herself blush. Melted right there. Broke into a soppy grin that, she was sure, made her look like a feeble teenager gazing at her childhood crush.
He flashed his trademark smile once more, then was gone. She was left once again with the prospect of what lay in store for her beyond the threshold of Grimshaw's office door. She drew a deep breath and pressed on. Back to business. Crushes, old flames . . . all of that could wait.
*
"Jessica, I'd like you to meet Captain Shaw. He's on special assignment for me," Admiral Grimshaw explained.
"Pleasure," she said as she shook the man's hand.
Shaw was nearing fifty, a shock of grey at both temples. Well built, lithe but stocky with scars up his forearms. He had a patch over his left eye, and his right was a dazzling blue.
I bet when he had both of them, he never struggled with the ladies, Jessica thought. Where has my sudden interest in the opposite sex come from?
She knew all too well.
"Good to meet you, Captain King," Shaw said. "I've heard a lot about the Defiant and her intrepid commanding officer."
"My reputation precedes me," Jessica said with a grin.
"Well deserved, far as I hear. Word is you have all seen a lot of action," Shaw said.
Jessica shrugged. "We've been in a few scrapes, I guess . . ."
"I'd like to hear about some of them. Maybe we can share a few war stories someday," Shaw said. "If you weren't a woman I'd ask you if you wanted to compare scars!" He let rip a loud, deep bellow of a laugh and gave her a friendly slap on the back, as if she were one of the boys.
She liked him instantly. Grimshaw indicated the two seats on the other side of his desk. "Shall we? I'm sure you can both make arrangements for comparing your war wounds later."
The two captains sat down. Grimshaw settled his bulk behind his desk, hands on the top as he readied himself for what he had to say.
"We know that the Namar crew were taken from the Enigma prior to our own rendezvous. I had no knowledge of this previous operation before sending you out, Jessica. I thought I'd reiterate that for clarity," Grimshaw said. "We also know that those crew were used as part of an experiment called Project Prometheus. Captain Shaw has been tasked with investigating that project, and what has come of its subjects."
"Sir?" Jessica asked, frowning.
Grimshaw's eyes looked heavy, tired. She realised that what had happened to them had taken its toll on him, too. He must feel responsible for the deaths, for what's been woken. For the evil let loose from Pandora's box . . .
"It would seem that the Project resulted in some experimentation with splicing technology."
"Splicing? As in gene splicing?"
Grimshaw nodded. "The same. Ever since the Marquis unrest, we have ceased production of replicants. Made it illegal. As you well know, as a result of the Marquis operations, replicants procreate among themselves. In some cases, interbreeding with humans. The division between human and replicant has been made all the more narrow over the years, and well may it continue. But, whoever ordered Project Prometheus into existence did so with the intention of blending replicants and Namarians, resulting in some kind of . . . hybrid being. Not only does this break several laws, it also poses some very worrying possibilities."
"My God," Jessica said, stunned. "Why do that?"
"Superior fighting force," Captain Shaw suggested. "Think back to the heyday of the war. We relied on the replicants as the backbone of our armies. After all, they're just like us. Only better. Stronger, faster. Longer life spans."
Jessica remembered the literature of the time. "Yes I recall a slogan that said just that. I can't remember right now what it was, exactly. But I've seen it in several texts."
"'Better In War,'" Grimshaw added.
Shaw snapped his fingers. "Yeah that's it. 'Better in war.' Well, they certainly got above that this time."
"So, what leads do we have?" Jessica asked. She was aware the Admiral had pursued the mysteries surrounding the Enigma relentlessly since their time locking horns with Cessqa and her people.
The Admiral sat back in his chair, folded his arms in front of his chest. "Very little. It's restricted way above even my level. And of course, I don't want to ask anyone for favours. I don't know who to trust."
"Aside from us," Captain Shaw said.
Grimshaw smiled. "I can always trust you two, Rick. Hence this meeting."
"So we have the name of the experiment, and we know something came of it . . ." Jessica said, trying to get back on topic.
"Yes. On a backwater planet, a dustbowl called Outland, there was a facility. Top secret, out in the middle of nowhere. Well, to cut a long story short, any mention I found of Project Prometheus in the files went hand in hand with the planet Outland. Going a bit deeper, I found details of the kind of facility they had out there."
"Go on," she said.
"It was a training base, Jessica. The same configuration as many of our own military training bases located on numerous planets throughout the galaxy. A place to make men out of boys. Or . . . fighters out of test tube hybrids."
She shook her head. It was hard to believe, but there it was. "Do we know who took the Namar from the Enigma in the first place?"
"I'm looking into that. It's been heavily classified. If there's a file at all," Shaw said. "As I was explaining to the Admiral before you joined us, there's not an awful lot to go on."
"So how will you proceed?" she asked him.
"Head to Outland as soon as possible, see the site for myself. Talk to the people in the area. See if it turns up a lead," Shaw said.
"A good plan."
"I think you'll understand my reasons for calling on Captain Shaw to help us, Jess. He's not standard military like you or I. Mister Shaw here is, shall we say, off the books. Do you get me?"
"You mean Shadow Force, don't you?"
Shaw shifted in his seat. The Admiral's face held a grim expression. "You've heard of it. Black ops. Completely off the grid. I can't trust any of my colleagues, Jess. You know that. I must first gather together the evidence, make a proper case of corruption before making grand claims. It's pretty simple, this whole thing. Someone ordered those Namar to be taken from the Enigma. And someone – possibly the same person – ordered they be used to create a new fighting force. An army of hybrids. For what purpose I couldn't begin to postulate."
"Another war," Captain Shaw said.
"But against whom?" Jessica asked them both.
Grimshaw sighed. "Against whoever they choose, I guess. The next candidate. For some, that is how it is. How it's always been."
"That's sickening," she said.
"No," Shaw said next to her. His one blue eye seemed incredibly bright. "That's war."
*
Once Captain Shaw had left, Grimshaw got to the subject of her own orders.
"I can't authorise a mission to investigate, Jess," he told her. Evidently he'd not wanted to say what he needed to in front of Shaw. "They want me to mothball the Defiant. Stick her in a museum. Famous ship and all that."
It was like an invisible fist had slugged the air out of her. Jessica leaned forward, took a deep breath, filled her empty lungs with air. She swallowed.
I feel sick.
"Sir . . . I'm not done yet. I need to find Cessqa. But above all else, I need to know who is responsible for all of this. Not having my ship, Admiral, it's the same as cutting my legs away."
Her mind flashed to the MS that had once threatened to do just that, before Dr. Clayton found a remedy.
"I appreciate your position, Captain. But I regret I am unable to step in. If I do, whoever is behind all of this will know I am one step closer to discovering the truth. I must be seen as a team player."
"So what should I do? Sit around here, twiddling my thumbs?" she snapped.
"Calm down," he told her evenly. She watched as he got up and fetched them each a glass of water. Jessica drank some. The cold glass perspired in her hand. She drank some more then put the tumbler in front of her on the desk.
"Sorry," she said.
The Admiral looked at the viewport on the other side of his office. A small hole in the wall, and beyond it, the stars. The sea of lights they all called home.
"Your Father's ship," he said. "I get it. I understand what it must feel like to give it up. I really do. But you must let it go, Jess. Or let your attachment to it destroy you."
"I know, only . . ."
The Admiral smiled warmly. "For all the light out there, it is incredible just how cold and dark space really is. When it's like that, all we really have is each other, and the bonds we make. Wouldn't you agree?"
She didn't say anything.
"I can't authorise another mission," Grimshaw said. "Are you getting what I'm saying? In an official capacity, it's over."
She looked up at him. "Sir?"
"I cannot authorise a mission . . . but since when has that stopped you, eh?" he said with a wink. "Anyway, that is not the issue here. We must unearth as much as possible about the project itself. Only then will we discover who gave the word. After all, they knew we went there. They knew what we would find. Who we might have woken."
"Yes."
"Whoever it is, they are the enemy. The real enemy. It strikes me as no surprise that one of my own would desire to see one war roll into another. I myself, for what it's worth, prefer the peace."
"I agree with you," Jessica said.
"We must discover the traitor. Weed him out. It must be someone with power, to have classified it the way he or she has. Whoever is responsible, they have a lot to answer for. I don't care who they are. I'll go after them either way . . . but I need evidence."
"Understood, Admiral."
"I have given everything I have to Doctor Gentry. I should think that by now he is busily poring over it all, looking for the clues."
"I'll check in with him," Jessica said.
"Oh and there is something else to tell you," Grimshaw said. "I am leaving. Within forty-eight hours I will be on a starship out of here. Another assignment apparently. I know it's really to get me out of the way, stop me meddling. Get me away from the rest of you."
"Sir, I'm shocked. I really don't know what to say."
He waved her off. "Bah. There's not really anything to say. Just promise me you will follow all leads. Stay the course, Captain. We will find out who is behind all this. And what it all means. I promise."
She stood. Saluted him. Grimshaw saluted back, then walked her to the door.
"They're shipping the replacement in. He'll be here tomorrow so I can show him the ropes. He not only inherits this station, but all areas of my responsibility, including fleet ops. It seems they want my energies elsewhere in the galaxy. Another region, another fleet. I'll be sure to introduce you before I go. This tells me higher powers are involved."
"Who is it? Your replacement, I mean."
"Admiral Kerrick. You heard the name?"
She shook her head. "No. I'm afraid not."
Grimshaw licked his lips. "Well, let's just say he's a little . . . unpleasant."
5.
It's all too convenient, she thought as she strolled along the station promenade watching people come and go. All of this happens, and now Grimshaw is to be replaced by someone else. Sent off somewhere he can't continue his investigation.
She turned a corner, saw the signposting for docking bays six and seven. She followed it. So why did he want me in there? Not just to tell me he was going. It was to make me aware of the task he's assigned Captain Shaw.
Shadow Force.
All commanding officers knew about them, though few had ever seen one of the Shadow Force operatives, nor for that matter been able to confirm their existence as a black ops unit employed by the Terran Defence Force. On the QT. Hush hush.
The Admiral wanted me to see the kind of game that's being played here. Sending us to investigate the Enigma . . . it was all a mistake. We weren't meant to go there. But before whoever is pulling the strings could act, the Defiant had been readied for launch. By then, events were already in motion. So now, this is all damage control. Tighten the operation here, put the Defiant out of action, get Grimshaw out of the picture.
Jessica went right, headed up a long corridor toward docking bay seven.
So where does that leave my crew? All assigned different ships, perhaps? Out of trouble, sent to different corners of the galaxy. What needs to remain buried kept from those with idle hands. Hands that can dig, can unearth, can excavate to find the truth and drag it up from the dirt, dust it off, show it to all.
Now she saw it. A class of ship she'd never seen before. Long but narrow. Almost submarine-like in appearance. A mass of communications arrays poking out at the top, some of them at the front end like whiskers. It was a dull grey colour, no markings whatsoever.
The data panel on the bulkhead outside the airlock didn't list a name. Only a classification that resembled little more than a random scramble of numbers, none of which held a passing resemblance to anything she'd seen before. As if generated at random by a computer, she thought.
The airlock was sealed tight. She pressed the comm. button to call through to the inside.
"Captain Jessica King to see . . . Will Ardai, please," she said into the audio pickup. Jessica had hesitated momentarily as she tried to determine Ardai's rank.
Did he even have one?
The airlock clicked open, with no confirmation from the inside to say they'd acknowledged her credentials, or her reasons for being there. She stepped through and heard it lock shut again behind her.
*
It was quiet in there. A compact, claustrophobic corridor ran to the left and right. One way the bow, the other the stern.
"Hello?" Jessica called. It was bright and airy. Systems whirred; the ship's reactor hummed; and there was the general sound of a starship at a standstill. Nothing out of the ordinary.
"Hello?"
Footsteps approached from the right. She waited and saw, with relief, that Will approached. "Sorry, I got caught up. I just had time to hit the access button to let you in," he said apologetically.
Ah, she thought. Mystery solved.
"Quiet in here," she said. "The ship's not what I expected."
"She's not much to look at. But trust me, she's just about the best ship out there. Loaded with everything you could think of."
They started to walk in the direction Will had come from.
"It's so small in here," she said, noting the fact they had to walk one behind the other, not side by side as she'd grown accustomed to on the Defiant. Not that she was about to complain. It allowed her to see that Ardai had not let himself go in the years since they'd been together. His derriere seemed just as perfectly formed as she'd remembered it. Of course, there was only one way of finding out for sure . . .
"Most of her square footage is assigned to cargo and systems. If you consider her size, she should be able to carry a complement of thirty or forty. But she only holds a crew of eight. And even that's a squeeze. As it is, there's only ever five of us on here at one time," Will explained. He opened a door to the right. It revealed a small, but serviceable, officer's mess. The lights flickered to life as they walked in. "Coffee?" he asked her.
"Oh, yes please," Jessica said. She sat down in one of the available chairs. "This tub reminds me of an old submersible from Earth's history."
"Yeah I've often thought that," Will said. "She's fast, too. Maximum velocity rated at nine Jumpquarts."
Jessica couldn't hide the surprise from her face. "Nine?!"
Ardai laughed as he handed her a steaming cup of coffee. He remained standing, though he leaned back against the counter. His own coffee sat on the side next to him. He looked at her, his smile still there.
"So do I get the grand tour?"
"Sure. Once we've had our coffee. The skipper's still off ship. Probably lost on the promenade somewhere."
Yeah, and I, no doubt, walked straight past him earlier without realising it, she thought.
"It's like that, is it? Commanding Officer stretching his legs, getting up to mischief?"
Will sipped his coffee. "A tradition I think. Hasn't it always been?"
"I guess," she said. "Anyway, what's this boat called? I noticed a pretty suspicious registry out there."
"Thought you might see that. Regular Joes don't, to be honest. On the most part. When they do, we have to pull out our security clearance to get them to back off."
"How high is your clearance?"
Jessica thought of her own, which allowed her to view anything level six and under.
"Fifteen," Will said.
"Jesus."
He grinned. "It's good to see you, Jess. It's been so long."
"Too long," she corrected him.
"Yeah . . ."
"I never thought I'd be sat on a black ops ship, drinking a coffee with Will Ardai," she said, shaking her head.
"That makes two of us," Will said. "I never thought I'd be having a coffee with myself one day, either. But here we are."
Jessica laughed. "Still the same Will. Bad jokes and all."
"You're not the same as I remember you," he said, now serious.
"I'm not?" she asked. She got up, stepped closer to him, put her own cup on the side. "What's changed?"
"You're more serious. Like you've seen stuff. Experienced things. I can spot it a mile off. The years have been eventful for you, haven't they?"
If only you knew, Will. The years have been hard.
"What else?" she asked, moving closer. Will put his cup next to hers. Out of the way. Reading the signs.
"You look different in another way."
"How d'you mean?"
Now it was his turn to move close to her. Their faces were mere inches apart. "You're not a girl anymore. I see a woman. A strong, confident, beautiful woman. More beautiful than ever I remembered her."
His hands went to her hips. He held her there, his mouth so close to her ear his breath tickled as he whispered: "The girl she was pales in comparison . . ."
She responded with a kiss. Deep, passionate. As if the years weren't an empty gulf between them. As if the time that had passed had not done so at all.
They held each other in a tight embrace, and she sighed in his arms. Somehow, it felt like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. The simple comfort of being in his arms, after so long, had worked its unique and inexplicable magic on her. "Will . . ."
He kissed the top of her head. "By the way, the ship? We call her the Spectre."
"Spectre as in shadow," she said with a giggle. "Imaginative."
"I originally suggested Rosalita, but the skipper wasn't having any of it. Can't imagine why. I love that song . . ."
*
He led her through the ship by the hand. It should have felt awkward. Unreal, perhaps, to have an old flame holding her hand as if they were lovers.
But there it was. It didn't feel strange. His hand, bigger than hers – the skin rough to the touch – didn't feel out of place in hers. It was like a warm glove.
As much as it seemed so natural, it also hadn't left the back of her mind how surprising it was that their passion for one another had returned so quickly.
"Here's the crew's quarters. As you can see, there's barely room for a bunk and some shelves. There's a communal shower and head. It's not ideal, but there it is."
They continued on. She didn't need him to tell her they were headed for the Spectre's bridge.
"Go on, have a nose," Will invited her. He stood to one side at the door as she walked in.
A viewscreen extended from one side to the other, a curved sheet of glass. A helm console down the front, a station for weapons and tactical to the left. Sciences and communications on the right. In the centre, the captain's chair.
"Small, but perfectly functional. I take it you have three crew up here, plus the Captain. Two crew in the back, with the engines and reactor."
"Correct. It's pretty simple. She's not a complicated ship, to be honest. The viewscreen is the latest display. A prototype. She's packing weaponry you've never heard of, Jess. I can't even tell you what some of them are, they're so far above your security clearance," he said.
"Wow," she said, impressed. "So even the tech on a classified ship is classified."
"I man the weapons and tactical. We've got a great guy, he's called Kalar. You know, a Xantian. He flies. The advantage to him is that he never sleeps because, you know, the Xantian's . . . well, they just don't. And he has six arms, so controlling the helm is a piece of cake. I don't think the Union has a better pilot," Will said.
"A Xantian pilot. Makes sense," Jessica said.
"Come on, let's get to the engineering room. I want you to see something."
*
It was as small and cramped as the bridge, but she hardly noticed. Jessica's attention was drawn to the furious light emitted by the Spectre's reactor core. It sparkled and shimmered, emitting a deep yellow light from the observation windows to either side of it. To the casual observer, the core might have looked like a simple column in the middle of the room but for the pipes leading away from it at the top. It's the tree that feeds the whole ship, she thought.
"And this," Will said. He took her to the far end of the room. A unit stood dark against the wall, showed no sign of life at all. But she'd have been surprised if it had. "Know what it is?"
"Is that your Jump drive?"
He nodded.
"Obviously I recognise the tech, but I've never seen one like that. You say she gives you nine Jumpquarts?" Jessica said with a shake of her head.
"Yep. What does the Defiant do?"
"I think between four and five, depending."
"So whatever journey you make, we'd do the same in half the time. In fact we could theoretically fly to your destination and back again in the time it took you to get there," he said.
"All right, don't rub it in," she said with a smirk. "I already feel outdated."
"Trust me, every ship in the Union is, compared with some of the stuff we've got on here," he said. "This new tech, some of it you won't start seeing in Union ships for another couple of years."
They left the engineering room. "Where's the other crew? Are you on here by yourself?"
"I'm afraid so," he said. "They like to get out and about when we moor up anywhere. A regular bunch of sightseers, that lot. Roughneck tourists," Will said.
Jessica stopped. "So we're alone?"
"Yeah . . ."
She moved in close. "Then there won't be anyone to see us do this, will there?"
Jessica didn't wait for him to respond. Her mouth once again found his. Her tongue caressed Will's, her hand going to the side of his face. She felt his well-defined jaw, the scratchy day's worth of stubble there. The back of his neck.
He broke it off. Looked deep into her eyes. "Jess, where's this going?"
She didn't have an answer. Instead she searched his face for one, but found no solace there. Just a strangely familiar comfort. "I don't know. Why don't we see what happens?" she suggested.
"Yeah. Sounds good to me," he said.
*
He walked her to the airlock and kissed her one last time.
"I really must go," she said. "I need to break some news to my crew."
"What sort of news?"
"The kind they won't want to hear," she said. "Will I see you again?"
"I'd like it if you did," he said.
She felt something pang inside her chest like an emotional rubber band. "I really wish we'd stayed in touch. I don't know why we didn't."
"It's just the way it was," Will said. He reached up, pushed a lock of hair away from her face. "But that doesn't mean it has to be that way now, Jess."
He gave her a soft kiss on the lips, so tender it turned her legs to jelly. She turned and left before she found herself unable to do so. As she walked away, she heard the airlock seal behind her and though she knew he couldn't possibly be standing there, watching her depart, she still turned her head to look.
Of course he wasn't.
I'm a fool, she thought. A complete fool. We've not even spoken for years and now we're kissing like a couple of teens again. What's up with that?
But as ridiculous as the situation may have felt, she knew it was right. It all seemed so natural to be in his arms again, to feel his lips against hers. Exactly the way it had been before.
Del tried telling me I'd neglected my love life for far too long, she thought as she walked away. Perhaps he was right.
6.
"So you want me to pass this on to the crew," Chang said. She looked down at the data tablet in her hand and sighed. "I just can't believe they're going to mothball us."
Jessica glanced around the room. Mickey's bar was busy as ever. It always had been a highlight for visits to the station, even when she'd been a cadet. They sat at the bar. Jessica picked up her glass, swirled the liquor in the bottom about, the ice cube clinking with each movement. "We have to accept it, Lisa. After all, we're here to serve."
"Doesn't mean I have to like it," Chang said.
"No. It doesn't. And for the record, I'm just as angry as you. But there's very little I can do about it. The real concern is what's to come of us. I don't know if I'm ready for this family to be broken up, posted to different ships," Jessica said. "It feels wrong, somehow."
"Have you met this Admiral Kerrick yet?"
She shook her head. "Not yet. I'm due to see him later tomorrow. Hopefully I'll have some answers."
Chang shrugged. She lifted her glass, offered a toast. "To the Defiant. And her valiant crew," she said. "Whatever becomes of them."
"I'll drink to that," Jessica said. They touched glasses then downed their drinks.
Chang stood, the data tablet under her arm. "I'll get on this straight away. Make sure everyone from the Defiant is in the know."
"Okay Commander," Jessica said with a weak smile. She waited until her second in command had left before ordering another drink.
"Is that a medicinal remedy prescribed by your personal physician?" a voice asked her from behind. She cocked her head to one side. Dr. Clayton settled onto the stool Chang had previously occupied. "May I?"
"Of course. Drink?"
He shook his head. "It's usually a bit rowdy in here for me. But I thought I'd pop my head in, see if I spotted a familiar face. Imagine my surprise when I saw you in here."
"By familiar face you mean me, correct?"
"I guess so."
She sipped her drink. "Is there a problem, doctor?"
"Several in fact, but I'll keep it simple. I've been leaving you messages that have gone unacknowledged. Why?"
"I didn't feel the need to answer them."
"Meaning, you didn't want to talk, am I right?"
"Maybe."
"Why? It doesn't make sense, Jess."
Jessica drained her drink, slammed the glass down on the counter. It went unnoticed amid the clamour of the bar, but it made the correct impression on Clayton.
"Perhaps I don't want to talk to you about my feelings, Doctor. Perhaps I don't want to have to explain the way I've been hurting since the Commander died."
"It helps to talk about it," Clayton told her, his voice lowered. "You shouldn't bottle it all up inside."
"No, you're right. Damn right. I shouldn't. But you know what? As the captain of that ship out there, I don't have a choice. What do you want me to do about that, eh?"
The barman put another shot in front of her. Jessica reached for it but Clayton got there first. He moved it away, his hand over the glass. "It's not the answer," he said firmly.
"No? And what is?"
"How about putting yourself to use and try finding that woman? She's responsible for this, not you," he said.
"You're talking about vengeance, doctor. Wrath. One of the big guns when it comes to sins I believe. I'm not sure that's part of basic instruction at the academy these days," she said sarcastically. "Turn every opponent into your own personal Moby Dick."
"No, well, I don't expect it is. But sometimes the old ways still work. I don't think your Father would have sat around, knocking back cheap booze. He'd have been out there, doing what he could."
"That's not fair to bring him into it," she said. "And anyway, it's out of my hands. They're taking the Defiant away from me."
"That's unfortunate. I didn't know that." Clayton eyed the drink warily. "What is this garbage anyway?"
Jessica looked up. "Tarcalian Tequila."
Clayton shrugged and downed it one go. His face contorted in revulsion as the aftertaste hit. It was enough to make her giggle. "Woah . . ." he gasped.
She couldn't help but laugh, her anger dissipating, as it always did. "You're meant to ease yourself in. That would have been my fifth."
"Gut rot," he gasped.
"Maybe," she said, the laughter subsiding. "Listen, Doctor. I didn't mean to be rude. Or aggressive. Or whatever. But this is a confusing time for me right now. Del's gone and by the looks of things, my ship and my crew are going to follow suit. On top of that I just bumped into an old flame of mine."
"Really? What, and there's still something there?"
"I think so, yeah. Definitely. And I should be riding high after that, but I'll tell you what, the reality of what I have to tell my crew just hit me. I needed a drink. I needed to feel sorry for myself again."
"Then I'll tell you what I think your Father would've told you, if he were still around. Don't let things go. Hang on. Take it from an old man who's spent his whole life in space. I never settled down with anyone, I never went after the things I wanted," Clayton said. "If they're taking away the means to hunt Cessqa down, then find another way. If this guy is someone special, Jess, then don't let him out of your sights. Time's ticking on. All the time you sit in dives like this, it passes all the quicker."
"Yes. Yes, you're right," she said, sitting straighter.
"Don't just sit on your ass waiting for others to make the decisions for you. There's gotta be something you can do to influence things . . ."
He got up, patted her once on the shoulder and started walking away. Jessica reached out, caught his wrist. The Doctor turned back.
"Doctor, there might be something," she said. "Do you remember telling me what your friend saw on Outland?"
"Yeah. Why?"
She smiled. "Can you spare an hour?"
*
"Thanks this will come in handy," Captain Shaw said. "That gives us a name and a face to track down when we get there."
"Well, whatever I can do," Clayton said. He dismissed himself and Jessica watched him go.
"That could be the lead that breaks it for us," Shaw said. "You've saved us a lot of work hunting down the witnesses."
"Yes I thought it might come in handy," she said. They stood outside the airlock. On the other side, the Spectre stood prepped for departure. "Is Commander Ardai not about?"
"I'm afraid not. We're about to go. Did you, uh, want me to pass something onto him?" Shaw asked awkwardly.
"Oh no. Just tell him . . . tell him I'll be in touch," Jessica said.
"Uh huh," Shaw said. He gave his thanks once more, then bid her farewell. "I'll keep you posted, Captain."
"Thanks," she said.
Captain Shaw went back to the Spectre and she stood there a while longer, wondering if she should wait until it left. But she decided against it, decided to just go. Decided to get the ball rolling. The doctor had been right. There were still things to do. With or without a ship.
Whatever happened.
Vengeance.
At first it seemed a dark word. Something untoward. But on reflection, it meant so much to her. After all, Cessqa was not the only one responsible for Del's death. There was, for example, whoever had ordered the Enigmabreached in the first place – ordered a team to go in there and steal some of Cessqa's crew. And there were the engineers behind the hybrids Grimshaw and Captain Shaw told her about.
Weren't they all similarly to blame for what happened?
She walked to the nearest comm. panel and found the designation for Dr. Gentry. He didn't answer straight away. "Hello? Who's there? What time is it?"
"Doctor Gentry. It's Captain King."
"Oh, hello," he said. His voice was groggy, as if he'd been in a deep sleep. "Uh . . . what can I do for you?"
"I'm on my way."
"Well, that is to say, I, uh, I've just woke up . . ."
"Then grab a shower, cause I'm coming," she said and cut the connection.
Time to work, she thought.
7.
Commander Chang looked from one face to the other and realised with dawning dread that she hadn't the foggiest idea how to begin.
Why was I chosen for this? she asked herself. Because with Greene gone, I'm now the second in command . . .
It hadn't occurred to her that she would be filling the void Del had left behind. A terrible thought, to think rank was an endlessly rotating wheel of opportunity. One person moved on, or died and you got your chance to do your best in their place.
It was enough to make her shudder.
The head of every section on the Defiant was present in the conference room. They chatted amongst themselves as she prepared her notes. Carefully written out, revised twice before leaving her quarters on the station – and yet now she found herself unable to even look at them.
The words she'd scribbled on the data tablet didn't even make sense. They were as good as garbled hieroglyphics.
Nerves. Calm down, she told herself.
"Excuse me, everyone," Chang said.
They continued to talk, oblivious to what she'd said.
"Excuse me!" Chang snapped. All chatter died away. "That's more like it. Please be seated."
She waited for the room to be completely still before breaking out the bad news.
"The Captain has asked me to hold this meeting as she is currently indisposed aboard the station. I'm afraid I have some bad news. Please be sure to pass this on to the rest of the crew after the meeting."
Captain, why can't you be here doing this?
She cleared her throat. "We have been informed that the Defiant is due to be decommissioned. Details are forthcoming, but far as we can tell, there will be no further expeditions in this vessel," Chang said. There were several gasps from those in attendance, but nobody dared to interrupt. They were eager for details. To pre-empt questions, Chang eagerly continued. "That's all we know. A combination of her age, and the amount of resources it will take to refit her yet again make such an effort an unviable option in the eyes of top brass. Rest assured, the Captain is as shocked by this news as I imagine you all are."
She looked at the Chief. Meryl sat with her head down, looking at her hands. Not a good sign. She'd never been one to stay quiet, to withdraw into herself.
Not good.
"It is our belief that the crew will be sent to other vessels, but that is pure speculation on our part. Please wait until you hear official word," Chang explained. "I really don't know what to say to you all."
A hand rose. She tried to pick the face out of the crowd and found herself unable to put a name to the man standing at the back. "Yes?"
He dropped his hand. "Thank you commander. I just wanted to ask what was the real reason King didn't tell us this herself."
"What do you mean, Mister?"
"The fact that it's bad news. And she probably didn't want to break it to us herself," the man said. "So she sent her right hand in here to give us the bad news."
"I'm not sure I like your tone," Chang growled. "The Captain has her reasons for it. Believe me."
"Well . . ." the man started to say.
"Enough!" Chang snapped. He stopped talking. Lisa looked from one officer to the next, sure to make eye contact. "If any of you have a problem with what's about to happen, or take issue with the Captain's decision making in this instance, please speak up. I will take you to see the Admiral himself, to voice your concerns."
The room was deathly silent.
"Right," she said. "Pass it on. The Defiant is no more. Our people are to continue as they are until they receive official word. Dismissed."
They slowly shuffled out of the room. The Chief remained where she was. When they were alone, Lisa took a seat a few spaces down. "Meryl? You okay?" she asked.
Chief Gunn nodded, slowly, without enthusiasm.
"Sure?"
"Yeah. I will be."
"I'm as shocked as you," Chang said. "But I'm sure it will all work out in the end."
The Chief laughed. It wasn't a humorous one. "Really? You sound confident about that."
"Well, I guess I have to be."
"They're taking her away from us. Grounding us. Stitching us up."
"Not really, Chief. I mean, look at the state of her. The Defiant is in need of a lot of work. And I don't think they want to invest that much time and energy on an old ship."
Gunn scowled. "Old ship? This is our home, Commander. My home. This ship is all I have to remember him by!"
Chang's throat felt too tight, too dry. She felt her eyes watering. "Oh Chief . . ."
Gunn started to sob, face in her hands.
It was all she could do to put an arm around Gunn's shoulders.
8.
Dr. Gentry opened the door nervously. "Captain?"
She walked into his quarters without waiting for him to invite her in. "Doctor," she said, looking about and settling on a chair in the corner.
The doors shut. Gentry perched himself on the edge of his sofa, hands clasped. "So, uh, I take it you're here to discuss my research."
"Yes."
"It's not been easy, that's for sure. Nearly everything about it is classified beyond my reach or, as in some cases, partially deleted. Removed after the fact, leaving gaps in the database. However I have a few clues that may prove worthwhile."
"I'm all ears, doctor. In fact, more than that. I really need something to go on."
"Pardon my asking, Captain, but what necessitates the sudden urge to find a break in this investigation?" Gentry asked. "It's been weeks, and I've been left to my own devices up till now."
"Well, a few things have changed. There's been some . . . developments," Jessica said.
"Oh?"
"They've assigned Admiral Kerrick to take over from Grimshaw. Essentially moving him off the case. I, for one, don't like it. I don't like it one bit. It seems highly suspect to me that they'd reassign him at a time like this," she said. "I feel there's motivation behind Kerrick's posting."
"Admiral Kerrick is not one to be messed with," Gentry said.
"You know him?" she asked, stunned.
"Unfortunately, yes. I had the misfortune of working with Kerrick some years ago in relation to an excavation of Namarian relics," Gentry explained. "We were on Daban, in the Xaha sector. Kerrick was put in charge, though I had authority over the dig. It didn't work out very well."
"Why?"
"We found the skeleton of a Namar starship in a jungle there. A long gouge in the ground led to a river. Scanning the bottom of the riverbed for further remains, we found a long capsule. It could only be described as an energy source. Kerrick wanted it stowed aboard the ship, to be taken to the Union for testing. I said he could not. It was not only essential in determining the details of the crash, but I could not guarantee it would be safe to transport."
"What happened?"
"I won. Kerrick didn't like it. It's probably not a coincidence I found myself posted to Spucksten V shortly after. The hind end of space. My punishment for disagreeing with the wise Captain Kerrick. The biggest ass in space," Gentry said bitterly.
"Well, that'd be Admiral Kerrick now."
The doctor shook his head, a deep frown etched into his face. "Damn."
"Anyway, I've been told on good authority that the Defiant will fly no longer. She is to be scrapped. So, time is short. I need to get moving on this before I get reassigned somewhere else."
"Has Grimshaw been making his own investigations?" Gentry asked.
"Yes, but I suppose those will be brought to a standstill now he is to be moved."
"Still . . . at least you know he is an ally. I take it none of his superiors are aware of his curiosity regarding the Enigma," Gentry said.
"Correct. It's been a behind the scenes job," Jessica told him. "He said it would be a disaster if one of them found out. After all, the order to first go in there and steal Cessqa's crew came from somewhere . . ."
"Yes. So, back to the issue of my research, I can give you some very small jumping off points," he said. "For instance, I cannot tell you much about the ship sent to rendezvous with the Enigma initially apart from the fact it carried, amongst its regular crew, a scientist by the name of Kingston."
"Kingston?"
He nodded. "Yes. I know of her work. She's a gifted scientist. An interest in races like the Namar, who have been wiped out over time. I've read several of her papers."
"And she was one of the team members?"
Gentry folded his arms. "It would seem so. There is an official report bearing her name. Every line of it is redacted. I can't see any of it. But it relates to the 'investigation of an unidentified artefact.' I can think of a pretty big one out there that might be of interest."
"So is that all?"
"No. During the course of scouring the data banks for anything that might assist our investigation, I found mention of a research facility on Zac'u IX. Apparently Doctor Kingston is in charge of things there."
"Any idea what kind of research it is they're conducting there?"
"No. Only that it, too, is restricted. Sealed off. Luckily for us, though, the facility is in the middle of nowhere. When people leave there they don't go back."
"If memory serves, all of Zac'u IX is like that. A barren, frozen wasteland."
"Makes it the perfect location for some secret experiments, eh?" Gentry asked.
"Are they available for comms?"
Gentry shook his head. "Unfortunately no. In order to talk to Doctor Kingston, we'd have to go there in person."
Jessica looked away, deep in thought. "If she was on that initial team, she must know who ordered the op in the first place . . . and who is responsible for covering it up. I'll take this to Grimshaw straight away."
"Will he allow you to go, do you think?"
Jessica made for the door. "Not sure."
"Oh, Captain. Before you go, there is one more thing I should tell you. Remember what I was telling you? About the Namar energy source we found on Daban?"
Jessica turned back around. "Yes?"
Gentry took a deep breath. "It would seem that Kingston and the Admiral are connected in more ways than one."
"I don't follow."
"A year or so after it was confiscated, I happened to find myself advising on a top secret project termed 'Sun Hammer,'" Gentry said.
It felt like a hand had closed around her heart. "Sorry?" Jessica gasped.
"I said it was called 'Sun Hammer,' and I was roped into advising on it. You see, it just so happened that the very same energy source we dug up on Daban was used as the basis of the Sun Hammers' own power core. I was there for maybe three weeks. That's when I bumped into Kingston again . . ."
"I don't believe it," Jessica said.
He frowned at her. "Are you all right?"
She remembered the scene as vividly as if it had happened the day before.
Sonjiin, the terrorist who stole the Sun Hammer from the Defiant as they ferried it across the galaxy, had fired it in a populated area of space. . .
The beam of energy stretched from the front of the craft to the fierce sun at the centre of the Xilin system. At first it seemed as though nothing happened.
But within the heart of the sun, where the Sun Hammer's blow had struck true, nuclear reactions of unfathomable magnitude were accelerated to millions of times their normal speed. The sun swelled white hot in a blinding flash as it erupted, doing in moments what would have normally taken billions of years.
The expanding energies of the resultant shockwave consumed all that stood before it. It tore through the orbiting planets, vaporising their atmospheres in seconds. The billions of sentient beings on their surfaces didn't have a chance to know what had taken place. The shockwave shattered each planet as it blasted through. Entire cultures and civilisations were wiped from existence in a matter of seconds . . .
"I know of it . . ." she said, her throat suddenly dry.
"Really? How?"
She shook her head. "It doesn't matter. It's a long story, and one I can't go into right now. But I know all too well what it was capable of, believe me. I saw it firsthand."
"So you appreciate the dangerous nature of Namar technology, Captain. And that Kingston's involvement runs far deeper than the development of one weapon. I believe they have been using what Namar tech they can find to further the military abilities of our fleet and armies. It cannot be a simple coincidence that Kingston's name crops up in both cases."
She let this sink in for a second. Then: "Who ran the Sun Hammer project? Do you know?"
"You won't find his name on any official document, but I know the man ultimately responsible for that awful creation," Dr. Gentry said. His eyes were filled with sadness. "Our mutual friend. Admiral Kerrick."
9.
The Admiral checked his watch yet again. "He'll be here in a moment."
She'd not seen Grimshaw so worked up in a long time and it was enough to put her on edge.
"Well do I have a yes or a no? I don't mean any disrespect, sir, but I need to know before Kerrick arrives," Jessica said.
The Admiral paced back and forth for a moment, then stopped. He turned to face her. "Jess, you must understand the position I am in . . ."
"You're saying no aren't you?" she asked, amazed. "I can't believe it. I thought you wanted this investigated? Catch the rat in the organisation. Surely you must see this is the best lead we have!"
"Jess. It's not as simple as that. You know what I'm referring to. I can't have anything that will lead back to me. Not yet. Not with Kerrick on his way," Grimshaw said. "We don't know who to trust, apart from each other."
Kerrick, she thought. The worm behind the Sun Hammer, which destroyed entire worlds. The trusty Admiral Kerrick.
"Admiral, this is what we've been looking for. Kingston was on the original expedition to the Enigma, completely top secret. She must know names. If I can just talk to her –"
"Not on my order, no."
"But sir –"
He rounded on her. "Enough! You're not listening to me. Any power I had is gone. Do you get me? Things have changed."
She didn't say anything. The Admiral straightened up, took a deep breath. He seemed to calm in an instant, like a deflated balloon.
"Just give the word, sir, and I'll go out there. I will get you some answers, I promise," Jessica said.
Grimshaw took her softly by the shoulders. "Captain . . . just because I do not give you permission does not mean you cannot simply leave. If you were that way inclined, of course. There's nothing I could do to stop you."
It sank in. Her mind raced. "Sir . . . you realize you're talking about stealing a Union starship?"
He smiled. "Am I? I don't know what you're talking about."
The door chimed. Admiral Grimshaw walked to the door, his hand hovering over the access panel. He looked back at her. "I'm afraid I don't recollect saying anything of the sort, Captain King," he said and opened the door.
Jessica wasn't afforded the time to fully comprehend what Grimshaw was telling her. Kerrick first shook Grimshaw's hand, then bounded over to her. She gave him a salute, and he insisted on shaking her hand also. "Admiral."
"I've heard so much about you," he said. "It's going to be a pleasure working together, I'm sure of it."
An older man, thin with a hooked nose and bald head. What hair he had on the sides had turned white. But he wasn't old. Just aged quickly. Still, despite his stringy appearance there was strength in his hand shake. It was firm, confident. And his eyes.
They were cold hard flints.
"Likewise," she said, trying to work him out.
Grimshaw cleared his throat. "Take a seat, Bob. Captain, if there's nothing else."
"Yes sir, of course," Jessica said. She saluted them both and made for the door.
"Oh and Captain?"
She turned back. "Sir?"
Grimshaw's eyes looked tinged with regrets, not that Kerrick could see them from where he sat. "Keep me appraised please. I'd like to know how you progress."
She got his meaning in one. "Understood."
With that she left. Her first port of call was the Defiant. There were people to see, things to do, and as was usually the case, no time in which to do any of it.
PART II
Sabotage
10.
The same day Admiral Grimshaw disembarked from Station 6, Kerrick arrived at the airlock of the Defiant for his inspection. Captain King was there to greet him.
"Captain. I trust you're ready for me?" he asked, stepping through the decontamination jets to shipside. Jessica followed him.
"Of course, this way," she said. They walked at a casual pace, all the while Kerrick looking here, looking there, making a visual inspection of whatever he could.
Is it all for show? Or does he really intend on examining every inch of the ship?
"I understand the damage was extensive," he said.
"Indeed, sir. There's been a lot of work put into getting her back to an acceptable standard."
He chuckled. "Well, one person's idea of acceptable is another's idea of lacklustre. Wouldn't you agree, Captain?"
No. Actually I'd like to punch you in the face right about now.
"Yes sir. Of course."
They arrived at the munitions section, and Kerrick made a deal out of talking to all and sundry, running his fingertips over the warheads.
"These older ships packed quite a wallop," he remarked. "I forgot."
"They were once the backbone of the fleet," Jessica said.
Kerrick rose an eyebrow. "I'm more than aware of our military history."
I didn't say you weren't, you arrogant piece of slime.
"I once served on one myself," he added.
"Very interesting sir," Jessica said. She made little attempt to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. About as interesting as listening to Doctor Gentry lecture on the varied qualities of rocks.
They walked to the engineering section. On the way there, he made her tell him all about the battle. What had happened in space, how Cessqa and her subordinate had boarded the ship. The effort to get them out of the engineering section, where they had attached an explosive device to the reactor. All of it. Kerrick had obviously read her report on what happened, but in the most irritating way possible he seemed intent on making her go over it, from start to finish, just for the sake of it. Thankfully for her, they arrived at engineering in the nick of time.
"Ah, Captain," the Chief said in greeting as they both walked in. She stood to rigid attention, and Kerrick dismissed her with a sloppy salute of his own. "Admiral."
"At ease. Chief Gunn, isn't it?" he asked, looking around. The engineering section appeared in pristine condition, everything as it should be, the heart of the ship beating strong and steady, as always. The Admiral looked suitably impressed.
"The same," the Chief said.
"I've heard a lot about you, Chief. Word is you're quite the miracle worker."
Gunn, for her part, gave a terrific performance. Her smile looked genuine, and it may have been.
But it was a mask. A veneer. "I try my best sir," she said.
He patted her on the arm.
Oh isn't this all warm and cosy, Jessica thought. Better steer him out of here before he sees through the act.
"Uh, Admiral. Shall we press on?" Jessica said, leading him to the door.
"This is a good engine room, Chief Gunn. I'm impressed."
She nodded, that fake smile still plastered to her face.
Well done, Chief. I know that was hard.
Kerrick left first, Jessica close behind. At the last moment she turned back. She had to see. Jessica knew she'd be right. The Chief's smile had vanished the second Kerrick turned his back. Good on you, Meryl.
"Which way, Captain?" Kerrick asked her outside.
"Oh follow me, sir," she told him, feeling no small amount of grim satisfaction. "We can make a brief inspection of the aft atomisers if you'd like."
"Splendid."
*
The moment Kerrick and Captain King left, the Chief sprang into action.
"Okay everyone. I'll be debugging the buffers. It means the internal security system, the network transmitters, all of that, will be disconnected for the time being," she said, loud enough for all to hear.
Lieutenant Gary Belcher frowned. "Chief, I didn't know we were doing that . . ."
"Roll with the punches, Gary. This job's ad hoc all the way. That's how I work; you know that. Anyway, are you gonna come help me or stay there looking pretty?"
"Coming," Belcher said. He followed her into one of the maintenance access shafts. "Hey Chief, do we need to tell anyone we're doing this?"
"Bah," she said dismissively. "They're not going to fuss over an hour or so of downtime on the cameras. I mean, we're docked. What could possibly happen right now?"
Belcher sighed. "Sorry to question your orders, Chief."
"That's all right Gary. I'd worry if you didn't."
*
"Thank you," Jessica said. She watched the Ensign place the tray of coffee and refreshments on the table then leave. Her quarters were half lit to make them more cosy, more comfortable. An inviting space in which to have a friendly cup of coffee with her new boss.
Kerrick helped himself to sugar, ladling it in as he spoke. "From what I've seen, you've all done an admirable job, Captain. You're to be commended."
"I'd take credit, but most of it is down to the Chief, sir. She really does hold this ship together sometimes."
"Indeed. I'll be sure to put her in for a commendation," Kerrick said.
Sure you will, you son of a bitch.
He dunked a biscuit into his coffee, bit it clean in half and spoke as he chewed, no regard for etiquette or manners whatsoever. She could see the soggy biscuit swirling around his mouth, coating his teeth. "So tell me, Captain. What are your plans concerning your career?"
"Sir?"
Kerrick swallowed. "Admiral Grimshaw must have told you that we intend on scrapping the Defiant. She's more than past her prime," he said.
"Scrapping her?" Jessica asked, shocked.
"Why, yes. Of course. What did you think we'd do with her? Put her in a museum?"
Well actually I did, she thought. "I hadn't considered it, sir, to be honest."
He shrugged, lifted his cup and took a sip. "High time you did. Sooner rather than later, I will be assessing the needs of the fleet in posting you to another vessel. One in need of your quality, Captain."
"But Admiral –"
He gave her a sharp look. "It's not up for discussion," he snapped. "It's an inevitability."
"Understood," she said through gritted teeth.
"You don't want to leave this ship, do you Captain?" he asked, a weird smile on his face. It made him look ghoulish. The glint in his eyes, coupled with the thin smile on his lips . . . it was enough to make her shiver.
"No."
"I suppose you see it as your inheritance," he mused. "I read your file. I know that Andrew Singh was your father. Unfortunately, assets of the Terran Defence Force are not simply handed down, from one family member to another."
"I never said they were," Jessica said. "I've come to like this ship and her crew. To me, they are my family sir. When you take the Defiant away, you're breaking that family apart."
Kerrick shrugged. "That's how it must be. And they're not your real family, Captain. I find it a cause for concern that you think so."
She watched him drain his drink. The anger threatened to boil over, but she kept it pegged. You don't care about any of us, she thought. It's your agenda and nothing else. This ship will be broken down. My crew will be split up, sent to different ships all over the galaxy. And me? Probably put in command of some tub and forgotten about.
The Admiral rose. "Shall we continue with the inspection? I have a lot to do, and so little time in which to do it."
As do I, she thought.
"Of course. I'll lead the way," she said, politely enough. But what she actually thought was: The sooner I walk you around this ship, the sooner I get to kick your wrinkly butt out the nearest exit. And the sooner I can get on.
A starship should never set sail carrying unnecessary trash.
11.
"Here he comes," Dollar said. "Doctor Strange."
King cleared her throat. "Captain . . ."
"Sorry. But lookit him," he whispered as they watched Dr. Gentry step through the airlock, looking every bit the mad professor Dollar considered him to be. "The kid's like a cross between a hairbrush and a cattle prod. Nah, scratch that. He's more like the offspring of Albert Einstein and Jack the Ripper."
She frowned at him, and was about to ask just what he'd meant when the doctor came bounding over. There was no way Gentry could pass for a 'kid.' "Ah! There you are!"
"We were just about to ask ya the same thing," Dollar muttered.
"Eh?" Gentry asked.
Jessica steered him away. "Don't mind him, Doctor. Please make your way to your guest quarters and settle in. We'll be going shortly."
"Oh really? How splendid. I hoped we wouldn't wait around."
Jessica glanced back at Nowlan. "There's not likely to be much of that . . ."
"Hey Doc, don't forget, when you hear the alarms, just ignore 'em," Dollar said. "Don't go jumpin' outta an airlock or nothin'."
Gentry tapped his nose. "Mum's the word."
He wandered off. Jessica shook her head. "A complete mystery, that man. Sometimes he seems completely lucid and others . . . like the escapee from an asylum."
Dollar chuckled. "Yer right on that score."
King went to the nearest comm. unit and opened a line to the engineering section.
"Gunn here."
"Chief, Gentry is aboard. He's the last. Everyone else is here and at the ready," she said. "We just need some noise."
"Right. Do I take it you give the order to ring the bells?" Gunn asked.
Jessica smiled. "I give the order. Ring them. Loud and clear."
"Understood."
Dollar grinned from ear to ear.
"What're you smiling about? You're about to be made a criminal."
He shrugged. "Ah, what the hell. We'll all be criminals together."
At that moment, alarms went off all over the Defiant, so loud as to be almost unbearable. She winced at the sound. Like clockwork, the Chief's voice boomed across the speakers in every part of the ship.
"This is the Chief. Evacuate. All hands evacuate. We have a coolant leak that has reached the ventilation system. All decks compromised. Repeat, evacuate immediately."
"Whaddaya want me to do?" Hawk yelled as people started to run through the airlock to the station side.
"Stay here. Make sure nobody lingers," she shouted back.
"Where will you be?"
"Breaking the law," she said. Then she was off, red lights flashing all around her, the air filled with the screaming alarms . . . and feeling a strange sense of exhilaration.
12.
As chaos rang out all over the ship, Jessica went to her quarters and accessed her comm. unit. She found the registry of Grimshaw's transport and connected to the ship ferrying him across space.
"Jessica?" he asked.
"Admiral. I didn't want you to leave without saying goodbye."
"The whole reason I didn't permit anyone to see me off," Grimshaw groaned. "I didn't want goodbyes. They're not my style, I'm afraid."
She sighed. "Admiral, this may be my last chance to talk to you. I'm about to leave the station, sir. And I'm taking the Defiant with me."
There was silence on the other end. It seemed to stretch out for an excruciatingly long time before Grimshaw spoke again. "I'm sorry to hear that, Captain. You understand I'm required to report your actions to Admiral Kerrick . . ."
She'd expected him to say such a thing. Their conversation would be played back after the fact and scrutinized. "Understood sir. I just couldn't rest. I must know what all of this is about. This is the only way."
"I don't know what to say, Captain," Grimshaw said.
"Just wish me luck, Admiral. I'll need it. It's been a pleasure, sir."
"For what it's worth, Jessica, I think your Father would have been proud of how you've turned out. Despite everything . . . you're a straight arrow."
"Thank you."
"Now I must go and report your actions. Sorry Captain."
"Understood sir. You have to do what you have to do. As do I."
"Best of luck. Grimshaw out," he said and cut the channel.
Now the clock is ticking, she thought. There was no telling just how much time he would give her. She got up and left her quarters at a near run.
*
Crew members fled past her, racing to the airlock. Trying to get off the Defiant as fast as they could. When Jessica got to the Secondary Command Deck, all stations were still active around her, albeit in standby mode. Servers still chattered to the Defiant's central computer, the ship's systems making minute adjustments to the Defiant, despite her being docked to Station 6. A vessel her size needed only to shift a few millimetres in either direction and she'd take the docking collar with her. So the automated monitors kept her in check, ensuring she stayed just where she needed to be.
Jessica walked around the room, turning the different consoles on one by one. They came alive, rows of green lights, screens glowing. The viewscreen at the front of the Command Deck flickered into life to show a view of the station in front of the Defiant. There were several other ships docked, one directly before them.
Jessica was careful not to access any of the engine controls. Not yet. That would alert station control far too early, showing their hand.
She accessed the internal sensors and took note of the number of personnel still present in the Defiant.
Nearly there. We nearly have an empty ship. She continued to prime the Defiant for departure as around her, throughout the ship, her crew fled from inevitable disaster.
*
Chief Gunn urged them all out. Only Lieutenant Belcher gave her significant trouble.
"But Chief, it doesn't make sense. It has to be a sensor malfunction –"
She gently pushed him out of the engineering section. "We can determine that later, Gary. Right now, we have to follow protocol."
He frowned. She got him as far as the doors to engineering before he stopped, resisting her. "Chief . . ."
She shook her head. "I don't want to hear it. Right now this ship is filling with toxins that will kill you within seconds if you get a good whiff of 'em. Are you ready to bet your life on there not being any?"
"I guess not," Belcher said. Crewmen filed past him on either side.
The Chief stood with her hands on her hips. "It's my duty to clear this deck, Lieutenant. That includes getting your sorry butt out of here. Now get a move on."
Reluctantly, he did as he was told and left. "Chief, I'll wait for you station side."
"You don't have to do that," she said, feeling a pang of guilt.
I won't be there.
"But I will wait anyway," Belcher said, a soppy smile on his face.
She put a hand on his shoulder. The alarms and klaxons faded away. "I really appreciate your friendship, Gary. You've been my rock after . . . well, you know. I won't forget it. Ever."
He smiled again, visibly miffed at her sudden show of emotion. "Don't mention it Chief."
"Go on. Shift it. I'll see you soon," Gunn said. She watched him go, then let loose a big sigh. The alarms returned, along with the gravity of what was about to happen.
See you soon? If only that were true, kid. If only that were true . . .
*
Commander Chang arrived on the Command Deck with Olivia Rayne in tow.
"Ah, you both came. You know, I have to admit I had my doubts," Jessica said.
The doors closed behind them, blocking out the noise from the hall. King had had the foresight to disable the alarms inside the Command Deck itself. It was blissfully silent in there, save for the hum of the many systems around them.
"You actually doubted us, Captain?" Rayne asked.
She shrugged. "It's a big ask. That's all I'm saying. I wouldn't have thought less of anyone if they'd decided against it."
"I never would've considered it," Chang said. "It was a straightforward yes."
"I'm glad to have you both with me. Did either of you see Banks on your way up here? We have Doctor Gentry, the Chief, you two . . ."
As if to answer her question both Kyle Banks and Doctor Clayton arrived.
"Captain," Banks said curtly. "Am I late?"
She laughed. "No. Not at all," she looked to Dr. Clayton. "Doctor, I didn't expect you to come along."
"Someone's gotta be the responsible adult of this field trip," Clayton quipped.
"Chang, Rayne, and Banks. If you wouldn't mind taking your usual stations. I will go with the Doctor and check on the evac. We should be nearly there. I think we're waiting on a few stragglers."
"She'll be along," Chang assured her. "Selena wouldn't let him go without her. No matter what the price."
Jessica looked from one to the other. "I promise you all, it will be worth it. I would not risk this if it were not."
Rayne smiled. "We know Captain. We know."
"Doctor, shall we?" Jessica asked. Clayton nodded.
She turned on her heels and left them to settle in.
*
While Admiral Grimshaw had busied himself with handing over to Admiral Kerrick, Jessica had been similarly busy herself.
When she walked into the conference room aboard the Defiant that evening, they'd all been there waiting for her. Just as she'd asked.
All sitting around the table – Commander Chang, Ensign Rayne, Lieutenant Banks, the two Doctors, Dollar, Selena Walker, the Chief, even Eisenhower. Any other time she might not have been sure about trusting Eisenhower. The man had served in the Terran Defence Force for a long time. But he'd also served under her for over a year, and that meant a lot. She'd got a feel for the old timer, and the impression that he could be trusted to at least keep his mouth shut, even if he disapproved with what she was about to propose to them.
"Thanks for coming, all of you," she said. They waited patiently for her to continue, no doubt eager to learn what it was, exactly, that had been so pressing as to call for a secret meeting. "I've asked my most trusted members of staff here tonight, because I have the unspeakable to ask of you."
She pressed upon them the need to keep everything she said top secret, then proceeded to tell them all she'd learned.
Jessica pointed to Dr. Gentry. "Doctor Gentry can explain the next part. If you wouldn't mind?"
"Not at all," he said. He didn't get out of his seat. There was no point – they could see and hear him perfectly well from where they were. "From what I have read, from what data we have at hand, it appears there was a mission to rendezvous with the Enigma, prior to our own. And that mission was top secret. So much so, that not even Admiral Grimshaw was aware of it. That's why we went in there blind, only to find the Enigma had already been accessed."
"And crew stolen," Walker cut in.
"Exactly, my dear, exactly," Gentry said. "Whoever it was, gave the order to go in there and, upon discovery of the crew, remove several living specimens. What happened after, we can only guess."
"So where's the connection?" the Chief asked. "I'm not seeing it."
"Well, it just so happens that a member of that team, one Doctor Kingston, was also a significant component of the team responsible for a project you may all be familiar with. The 'Sun Hammer.'"
There were several stunned looks, some sharp intakes of breath at the mention of the device. "You don't mean . . ." Clayton said.
Jessica nodded slowly. "Indeed, the very same. It would seem that Doctor Gentry here excavated an old Namarian power source, only to have it confiscated by Admiral Kerrick."
"Thought he was Captain Kerrick back then," Gentry said.
"Yes. Captain Kerrick. That same power source was used to develop the Sun Hammer itself."
"And later on, Doctor Kingston's name appears on the itinerary for something called Project Prometheus," Gentry explained. "It's all too much of a coincidence."
"Very," Chief Gunn said. "I smell something rotten."
Dollar looked around, made a show of sniffing his armpit. "It ain't me, sweetheart."
The Chief laughed.
"Are we to investigate this Doctor Kingston?" Chang asked.
Jessica looked them all in the eye one by one. "The Doctor currently resides on Zac'u IX, at a remote facility. I have asked permission to take the Defiant there. My request has been denied. So I will be taking her anyway . . . and any of you who care to come with me, are welcome to do so."
Silence fell over the room like a curtain.
"I will be completely honest here," Jessica continued, not sure if she was winning or losing the room. "I can't do it without you. And I am certain the answers to the Enigma, the deaths of Commander Greene, Lieutenant Jackson, the others . . . all of it awaits us on Zac'u IX."
Chang stood. "All those in favour," she said, then raised her hand.
Everyone in the room raised theirs to join her. Jessica felt so much relief wash over her that she could have wept.
"Thank you. Each and every one of you. Of course, if you should change your minds, do not fret over it. I will think nothing less of you. I don't expect anyone to risk their lives, or their careers, to do this," Jessica said.
"I think I can safely speak for all in attendance when I say this," Chang said. "We stand together. We're family."
Jessica grinned from ear to ear.
Lisa Chang sat back down. Dollar cleared his throat.
"I got one thing to say, Cap," he said. "Somethin' that should be cleared up before we do this."
"Are you sure you want to?" Jessica asked him. "Last chance to get out of it."
"Do what?" Selena Walker asked, looking from the Captain and back to Dollar again.
He took her hand in his. "Darlin' I ain't called Dolarhyde. Or Dollar. Or any other name. Commander, you know."
Chang turned to Walker. "I found out by accident, I swear. His name is Gerard Nowlan. Otherwise called Hawk."
"What?" Walker asked. "I don't understand."
"I'm a lot older than ya think, babe," Hawk said. "It's a long story I can tell ya later on, but the short version is –"
"– a secret," Jessica cut in. "But since we're all on the same page here, Hawk here comes from an alternate timeline. I'm sure he'll fill you all in on the details at some point, but suffice it to say we had to hide his real identity as he is a temporal anomaly. For the sake of keeping the status quo, it was easier to integrate him into the Defiant's crew under a new identity."
"A different timeline?" Walker couldn't keep up.
"The Defiant of my time got sucked into a black hole, darlin'. I got sucked into the same rift years before, but due to the differential – which I really don't understand – when the Defiant arrived in another galaxy, I'd been there a few days already. Though in reality we were more than fifty years apart. So anyway, I helped her crew return to this timeline, in order to stop an attack on Station six."
Banks's eyes grew wide. "Before our year long mission! The battle with Sepix."
"The same, kiddo," Hawk said. "That ship that was stolen, that ploughed into the Draxx ship? My Captain King was on board and died in the crash. All so that yours could live."
Jessica felt uncomfortable, hearing it all explained that way. It sounded like a lot had happened to keep her alive and that was just the case. "That's the short version. There are files and files on it."
"So anyway, I was given my choice of stuff to do. I decided I wanted to serve on this ship, with the crew I'd grown to know. Obviously you were all different, but not so much. It didn't take me too long to settle back in. Only problem was, I couldn't talk about any of it."
"Until now," Jessica said. "So everyone, meet Hawk. He was a celebrity back in the day."
"Had your poster on my wall as a kid . . ." Eisenhower said, visibly star struck.
"If we're doing this, why continue the charade," Jessica said. "If everyone agrees, when Grimshaw goes, so do we."
"Aye," they all said, one after the other.
*
She thought back to that meeting as she and Dr. Clayton walked the ship, ensuring there were no stragglers left behind. They couldn't afford to have a single one.
They did me proud, all of them, she thought. And they're doing me proud now. We stand together. Family.
"What're you smiling about?" Clayton asked her. "Captain Criminal."
Her smile turned to laughter. "Nothing. Everything."
Clayton shook his head. "Makes a whole damn lotta sense, Jess."
13.
The Defiant was empty, which meant they were at last able to shut off the alarms. Restore the quiet.
"Let's run that sweep one more time. Make sure it's just us on here," King ordered.
"On the case," Chang said. She studied her readout as every sensor inside the Defiant scanned for life forms. Specifically, human organic signatures. She looked back up. "No, nothing. Just us up here on the Command Deck. The Chief and Eisenhower down in the engineering section. Gentry in his quarters. That's it."
Hawk occupied the tactical station. "And we got fellas banging on the door station side."
"They won't be a concern in a moment," Jessica said. "Everyone, this is your last chance to turn back. Get back to the airlock."
There were no takers, much to her relief.
"We have an incoming communication from Admiral Kerrick," Rayne said. "What shall I do?"
"Hold on a second, Ensign," Jessica said. "Banks, fire up the engines. Release the docking clamps. You know the drill. Full departure, just . . . a little quicker than normal."
Banks nodded and set to work.
"Go ahead," she told Rayne.
The Admiral's voice boomed over the speakers. "Captain, what's going on over there?"
"What do you mean, Admiral?"
Banks released the docking clamps. The Defiant vibrated as it disengaged from the station.
"The emergency over there. You've had to evacuate the Defiant," he said. "Have you found the cause?"
"You could say that," she said cryptically. She watched as Banks' hands flew across the controls. The Defiant accelerated at his touch.
"And what is the status of –" the Admiral's voice trailed off to be joined by another, far too muffled to make out. Kerrick came back on the line. Meanwhile, Banks steered them clear of the station, taking them to starboard. "I've just been informed you have undocked. Why?"
"You're an intelligent man, Admiral," Jessica said. "Work it out. We must vent the Defiant's compromised atmospheres into space."
"Nonsense! Captain, you bring that ship back right now!"
She smiled. It shouldn't have given her pleasure, but it did. Now she knew. When she'd told Del that she felt tired. When she confided in him, told him she wanted something else. To do something more.
This was the sensation she'd been missing. Exhilaration.
"Go to hell, Admiral," she said.
"You will regret this, Captain," Kerrick snapped. He cut the line.
Chang looked up from her station. "Captain, the Charlise has undocked."
"She has been told to pursue and disable," Rayne reported, holding her earpiece with one hand. "Kerrick's orders."
"Not a concern."
Banks glanced back at her. "Ma'am, shouldn't we at least charge the hull plating?"
She shook her head. "Nope."
Hawk chuckled. "That's what I like about ya, Cap. Ya got balls!"
"Charlise closing. Hicks class. She's bigger, faster, and more heavily armed," Chang said.
"Good for her," King said. "Banks, how long until we can Jump?"
He checked. "Another thirty seconds."
"The Charlise is hailing. Asking us to stop or they will fire," Rayne said.
"Ignore them," Jessica said. She contacted the engineering section. "Chief, you there?"
"Here."
"Did you get those spare parts from the Charlise we needed? As discussed?"
"As discussed Captain. Got 'em down here in a bucket right in front of me," Gunn said.
"Good work," Jessica said and closed the channel.
"They are locking weapons," Chang said.
Jessica sat calm and quiet in the captain's chair as those around her awaited the inevitable beating from the Charlise. But nothing came. Not a single shot.
"What're they waiting for?" Banks asked. "Just kill us already. Get it over with. Christ."
"Nothing," Chang said. She kept looking down at the readouts, as if they showed her false data. "It doesn't make sense."
"Admiral Kerrick is on the line again," Rayne said.
"Put him on," she said.
"Captain, I will see to it that you are hunted down and apprehended. Add sabotage to the list of crimes you're currently guilty of."
"I'm sorry, but I simply do not know what you mean."
"The Charlise has had her weapons and Jump Drive disabled. They are reporting the parts were stolen. I want them back, Captain! They do not belong to you!"
"Cut him off, Olivia," Jessica said.
"With pleasure," Rayne said and ended the transmission.
*
Eisenhower laughed at the top of his lungs as the Chief explained what had happened. Hours before she'd gone aboard the Charlise under the guise of borrowing a few parts. Instead she'd removed crucial parts of both their firing boards and Jump Drive.
"I can't believe it!"
"Well, in all fairness, I never said which parts I was borrowing," Gunn said. "And in my defence, they never asked."
"Jesus . . ."
"While I was there, I reversed their intermix polarity," the Chief said, a grin on her face. "They'll be lucky if they get a fart out the back end. Let alone enough to get them to Jump speed."
The old man shook his head, laughing all the while. "What'll you do with the parts anyway?"
Now it was the Chief's turn to smirk. "Keep 'em for spares."
*
"Jump Drive ready," Banks said. "Awaiting your command."
"You have it, Mister Banks. Get us the hell out of here," Jessica ordered.
Behind them, the Charlise hung uselessly in space as the Defiant Jumped away. The old ship vanished within an instant.
14.
The security officer turned to face him. "Admiral, they have successfully Jumped away."
"Their success comes at our expense," Kerrick fumed. "Track them. I want every ship to pursue."
The man stuttered. "Y-y-yes sir!"
"Get to it!" Kerrick dismissed the officer with a wave of his hand.
He turned back to the holodisplay of the space surrounding Station 6 and watched the Charlise limp back to dock.
Pathetic, he thought. She has made fools of us all.
Several other officers stood by, waiting for orders. "Her crew – those who are here on the station – are to be rounded up and questioned immediately. Get to it. Do not return without answers."
*
"Jump achieved," Banks said, audibly relieved. He slumped back in the chair. "I thought we were going to be shot down there, for sure."
"You underestimate the Chief's many talents, Lieutenant," King said.
"Sabotage . . ." Chang said in almost disbelief.
Jessica laughed. "And there you were, thinking Meryl didn't have it in her."
"I don't think you could ever say that, Captain," Chang said.
"No, indeed," she said. "Miss Rayne, observe complete silence from now on. We receive but we do not transmit. Mister Banks, best possible speed to Zac'u IX."
"Aye Ma'am. We’re on our way."
And soon, so too will the rest of the fleet, hot on our tail . . . Jessica thought.
15.
Admiral Robert Kerrick ran a hand over his bald pate as he waited for the comm. system to make the connection.
Earth was a long way away, and his voice would bounce from one communication relay to the next till it reached its target. Despite humanity's technological advancement in other areas, there would still be a time delay of several seconds during the conversation he was about to have.
A hindrance inherited from mankind's first forays into space.
Though, back then there was a time delay talking to capsules orbiting the moon, Kerrick mused. As if the gulf of space separating Earth and its sole natural satellite were impassable. The delay they experienced now, centuries later, was caused by the distance of entire star systems.
SECURE CONNECTION flashed up on the screen. Kerrick shifted in his seat. The screen went blank, then changed to show a face familiar to billions.
"Bob," the man said in greeting. "You just pulled me away from a very delicate conference. I hope this is worth it."
"Apologies Mr. Vice President, but we have a situation I felt you should be made aware of."
"Oh?" Vice President Herbert asked.
"Yes. Without warning one of the captain's under my purview has just . . . stolen a starship."
"Excuse me?"
Kerrick swallowed. He couldn't help it.
I hope he didn't see.
"Thirty minutes ago. When one of the other vessels attempted to pursue, it found itself unable to do so. Sabotage, apparently."
"Is that so? Well, that is most unfortunate."
"Yes. But I wouldn't ordinarily contact you for something such as this, Mr. Vice President. The reason I call has to do with the identity of the person responsible."
VP Herbert waited.
"It's Captain King, sir," Kerrick said.
The VP's face grew stern. "Listen to me, Admiral. You will put a stop to that woman's meddling. Do what you have to. Whatever it takes to stop her. I want her under arrest and in your custody within twelve hours."
"Yes sir."
"We can't afford to have a loose cannon like that running around, let alone with a starship at her disposal."
"I agree."
"I'm so glad you do, Admiral. It's a real weight off my mind," VP Herbert snapped. "Do your job. Alert me the minute you have her in custody."
The screen died in front of him. Kerrick sat there a moment longer, deciding his next course of action.
Of course, the VP was right. Dammit, was the man ever wrong about anything?
We have to stop her. That one woman can undo everything. This is an eventuality none of us foresaw . . .
Kerrick got up and left the office. There was a starship to catch, and the trail grew colder every second.
PART III
"We orbit the past . . ."
16.
"We have not discussed this as yet, but should we be apprehended before finding definite proof . . ." King started to say. She looked from one to the other. "I will be the one to take the blame."
"No!" Chang exclaimed. "No, Captain. We stand together."
Jessica shook her head. "I'm sorry Commander, but I can't expect you all to take the rap for this. I expect everyone to have long careers, much longer than my own will be when this is done. But I must be the one to do it."
"Why?" Clayton asked. He sat perched on an empty seat at the back of the room, arms folded. "What is it, exactly, that compels you to do this?"
"Doctor, not only do I owe it to Del, to Jackson, to Munoz . . . I owe it to myself. To the duty I undertook in the beginning as Captain of this vessel. To my Father. All of that, and more. It's my responsibility to take the heat for this when it comes around the corner. My duty," Jessica said. "Besides, I have made preparations."
"What kind of preparations?" Chang asked.
Jessica licked her top lip. "Well, this will be the story here on in. I told you it was a top secret mission, told you I operated under Admiral Kerrick's direct orders. Orders which you will find manufactured by myself, sealed in my quarters when the time comes for my arrest. None of you had any part in this."
"What about the Chief?" Banks asked. He studiously monitored the helm console as they Jumped, watching for anything not on the charts that might throw a roadblock in their way. "She sabotaged the Charlise, right?"
"The Chief and I knew the Charlise was the only ship available to station security. The only tub they could send after us. Meryl did what she had to do, at our mutual agreement," Jessica admitted. "I don't like it, but it was the Chief's decision."
It sank in. When they were eventually arrested, taken in for questioning, the Chief would be joining Jessica in the cells.
"Neither of you should face that fate," Walker said.
Jessica shrugged. "We have our reasons. Meryl's aren't much different to my own, believe me."
Banks turned. "Ready to decelerate and begin cross vector manoeuvring."
"Okay, lieutenant. Drop out of Jump as discussed."
"What's cross vector manoeuvring?" Rayne asked.
Chang smiled. "It's used to give a false trail to anyone following us. We drop from the Jump, head off in a new direction. Stop, come back here, Jump somewhere else . . . and so on. Eventually we get back to where we were headed in the first place, leaving behind us a confusing criss-cross of expended exhaust."
"Ah, right," Rayne said. "And how long does that take?"
"Several hours. Hawk, if you could assist Kyle with whatever he needs?"
"Sure thing, Cap," the Texan said.
Jessica got up. "I suggest everyone take the opportunity to get something to eat, grab a shower, have a nap . . . whatever. We have a few hours to kill and luckily for us, the ship will more or less fly itself. She only needs Banks' guidance."
She hit a comm. button.
"Chief here. What's up?"
"Nothing Meryl. We're going to wind down for a bit. I suggest you and Eisenhower do the same. When we're back on course, we'll cover for Hawk and Banks."
"Understood. Meryl out."
Jessica headed for the door. "If anyone needs me, I'll be in Doctor Gentry's quarters. At least, I'm assuming he's still in there."
As she left, she heard Banks say: "If not he'll be hanging upside down from a rafter some place . . ."
17.
Chief Gunn looked over the unmanned stations in the engineering section. It seemed bare with only herself and the Master At Arms working in there. No life to the place. Just the sounds of machinery working, computers chattering away, the thrum of the ship's reactor core.
Luckily for all of them, the Defiant could operate for a time with only a handful of crew. She had every function routed through the automated control. Not ideal, but there was no other choice. For the time being, they'd be able to run the Defiant in such a way, with minimal fuss. However, it wouldn't last forever. They would encounter issues that the computer simply couldn't resolve on its own, lacking, as it was, the capability of counteracting or intuiting issues. Eventually the Defiant would require human Tender Loving Care.
But, much to the Chief's satisfaction, everything had proceeded as planned. There was still plenty to do down there, but at least it was only work for two people.
Lucky that, cause that's all I've got, the Chief thought as she slapped Eisenhower on the shoulder. "Come on, let's go see if there's any coffee on offer. Eh?"
The Master At Arms looked relieved. "Ah. Yes."
She steered him out of the engineering section. "Tell me, did you not even have an inkling Dollar was really Hawk? Nothing at all?"
The old man shook his head. "Nope. Sorry, but no. I see it now, though. It's not such a great jump, to be fair. I accepted it the moment the Captain said it."
"Me too," Gunn said.
The corridor outside engineering was deathly silent, eerily deserted. "I don't like the ship like this," Eisenhower whispered.
"I know what you mean," Gunn said. "It reminds you what an empty environment space really is."
They walked on. Eisenhower looked across at her. "You know, Chief, that's a truism of life in general."
"What's that?" she asked.
The old man cocked an eyebrow as he glanced sideways at her. "The dark is always a lonely place to be . . ."
18.
"So you are alive then, Doctor," Jessica said as she stepped into his quarters. Gentry looked as though he'd been pulled through a bush backwards.
"I have taken a mild sedative," he said. "You know, for the nerves."
She had to laugh. "Are you always this nervous when bending the rules?"
"I would say it's a little bit more than that!" Gentry yelped, his face ashen, eyes bulging.
He's a wreck, Jessica thought. "Doctor . . ."
Gentry walked to the viewport and looked out. Whether he truly saw anything was, in Jessica's opinion, open to debate. "I, uh, I don't think I will fare well in prison. Or, heaven forbid . . . a penal colony."
"That won't happen," Jessica said. "I take full responsibility. You're all acting under orders."
"You do?" Gentry asked, turning back around to face her. "We are?"
She nodded. "Yes. I would never let you all take the fall for this. But it had to be done. I must know what's going on."
Gentry visibly calmed before her eyes. He relaxed. The man's shoulders slumped, his eyes looked less strained. A little colour returned. "I don't feel any shame in telling you I am relieved."
"Well, I'm glad. I wondered why you were hiding in here. I started to think you might not be aboard at all," Jessica said. "And I wouldn't have blamed you for jumping ship at the last second. Everyone's here through their own choice."
Gentry retrieved a data tablet. He handed it to her. "I choose to be here, Captain King. I do."
She thanked him for the tablet. "What's on it?"
"The file on Doctor Kingston. I found a connection in there with a member of this crew, too," Gentry said. He settled in a chair and looked about ready to drop.
"Who?"
"Our own Doctor Clayton. By the looks of things, they both know each other," Gentry said.
They know each other? Why hasn't Clayton said anything?
"I'm afraid that's all I can get for now," Gentry told her, his voice sluggish. His eyelids looked heavy, as if he struggled to keep his eyes open. "I've reached the end of all available data. The rest is, as you know, quite classified."
"Thank you," Jessica said. "Doctor, exactly how many sedatives did you take?"
But Dr. Gentry was already asleep, and he did indeed appear exhausted.
I suppose he's been going through every file he could find. Remarkable we have what data we have, considering the majority is classified information. They obviously didn't count on someone like Gentry coming along and picking out every detail . . .
She left without another word. The Doctor reminded her of someone who could piece together a puzzle after all the pieces had been scattered. To a normal person, without a visual guide to put the puzzle back together, the task would be near impossible. But for Gentry, such a challenge was the whole point in attempting the puzzle in the first place.
Jessica walked along the corridor, tablet in her hand. Must be why he likes hunting for Namarian artefacts. It's like a puzzle, only it happens to be thousands of years old. To Gentry, putting that one back together must be a dream come true.
*
She found Clayton in the sickbay, shutting the equipment down. If need be, the bay could used for a medical emergency, but for now it sat in darkness.
"Ah, Jess," he said. "I was just closing shop."
She tapped the tablet in her hand. "I have something to ask you, before you do."
He cocked an eyebrow. "Oh?"
She led him into his small office and sat down. He sat opposite. "Doctor, what do you know about Doctor Kingston?"
He shrugged. "Only what I've been told already. Why? What's this all about, Jess?"
Jessica sat forward. "There's a definite connection in the files Gentry has compiled. So I will ask again, Doctor . . . how do you know Kingston? And why have you kept it from me?"
Clayton sighed. He ran a hand over his face. The whole ship seemed impossibly quiet around them. The sickbay was shrouded in darkness beyond the glass of the office. "I swore not to say."
"Doctor, I am ordering you to tell me."
"I can't," he said. "I don't want to be the one to tell you."
Jessica jabbed a finger in his direction. She felt red hot anger bubble up inside her. "Tell me right now!"
Clayton held his hands up defensively. "All right, all right. Don't say I didn't warn you."
Jessica relaxed. She sat back. "Doc, what's the big secret? What are you hiding?"
"I'll tell you. You may not believe me, but what the hell. You wanna know so bad, here it is," he said.
Then he told her.
19.
Stop. Start. Stop. Start.
Kyle Banks initiated the Jump again, sending them hurtling in a new direction. They'd maintain that course and speed for the next half hour, then exit the Jump and turn back.
And that should be it, he thought. Enough of this back and forth nonsense. On with what we've gotta do.
"Ain't we done this already?" Hawk asked. The Texan let loose a mighty yawn that reminded Banks of a lion showing his jaws.
"You can say that again," Banks said. "Thankfully, this is the last time. We can circle back, then continue on our way."
Hawk shook his head. "I guess we gotta cover our tracks more than normal."
"Yeah. The only trouble is, all the time we're out here doubling back on ourselves, Union ships are looking for us. Pinpointing our probable location."
Hawk slapped him on the shoulder. "Have a little faith, kid. We'll do all right."
If we get back on course before they get here. And if this works. In theory the criss-crossed patterns should prove indecipherable to them. We'll have given them an endless choice of directions to choose from, meanwhile the Defiant will be on her way. If only I shared his optimism.
"You don't get nervous, do you?" Banks asked him.
Hawk kicked back, one foot up on the edge of the helm console, hands behind his head. "Nah."
"I guess you're too old for that, aren't you?"
The Texan grinned. "Good one, kiddo," he said with a chuckle.
Banks checked his readouts. Looked ahead. Checked them again.
Start. Stop. Start. Stop.
20.
Jessica stormed into the Officers' Mess, only to find the best she could rustle up from the canteen area was a cup of tea and a premade sandwich.
"Poor pickings, isn't it?" a voice said behind her.
Jessica jumped. "Who –?"
Her eyes fell on Selena Walker at the other end of the mess, an empty cup in front of her. The room was dark and from where Selena sat she had an awe-inspiring view of the cosmos as it flashed past.
"I, uh, I didn't think anyone was in here," Jessica said. She sat at a table nearby.
"Sorry, I should've said when you walked in," Walker said. "By the way, hope you don't mind me prying, but . . . are you okay?"
"Yeah why?"
"Only, the way you came in," Selena said. "I could be wrong, but it looked like you were upset about something."
Jessica sighed. "It's nothing. Don't worry."
It felt a great deal more than nothing, but there was no way she was ready to tell Walker about it. Nor anyone else for that matter. If she'd had the opportunity, Jessica would have happily forgotten all about it entirely.
But there it was. Clayton's words, rattling around. Bouncing off the walls of her skull, showing no signs of fading away. Of melting into the background where they belonged.
No, we're here to stay.
"How about you? Been sitting in here long?"
Selena shook her head. "No, I just thought I'd grab five minutes peace. I like looking out, watching the stars swim by. It's relaxing."
Jessica looked to the side. Out there, the galaxy flew past. Stars and planets, strewn through the mysterious darkness like grains of salt over a black tablecloth.
"I know what you mean," she said.
Selena looked at her timepiece. "I'd better go. Check on Hawk."
Jessica sipped her tea. "Once I'm done here, I'll be up to relieve the two of them."
Selena got up. She stopped by Jessica's table. "I'll leave you in peace. Do you want the lights off?"
Jessica shook her head. "It's fine how it is. Thanks anyway."
Walker left the mess hall. Jessica attempted to eat her sandwich, but found it stale and tasteless. She left it to one side, drank her tea, and continued to watch everything fly past outside. It had a relaxing effect. As if all of your worries, fears, concerns, and problems rendered trivial in the face of such enormity. It made you feel small, insignificant next to the sheer scale of the universe.
Somehow, that realisation allowed her to put Clayton's news into perspective. It still hurt, and it had still rocker her to her core . . . but the edge had diminished.
I guess what seems like the noises of our lives are just whispers in the temple, Jessica thought. Whispers in the temple.
21.
Chang slipped on a fresh vest, then pulled a clean uniform tunic from the hanger in the closet.
"Do we still have to wear uniform? Really?" Rayne asked. She stood in the doorway to the head, wrapped only in a towel, hair dripping wet.
"The Captain didn't say otherwise," Chang said. "I have to assume it's business as usual."
"I suppose," Rayne said. She sat on the edge of the bed. "So you're going up there now?"
"Yeah," Chang said. "Yourself?"
Rayne shrugged. "I guess I'll get a nap in. Will she be all right with that?"
"Of course. She wants everyone to relax while they can," Chang said. She gave Olivia a kiss on the cheek. Soft and tender. "The ship's mostly automated at the moment. Besides, I think she really appreciates that we all came along."
"So she should," Rayne said. "Doesn't matter what she says, we're still putting our necks on the line."
Chang stood with her hands on her hips. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Look, I'd never argue with the Captain. I'll follow her wherever, down a black hole if need be . . . but at the end of the day, whatever she says about taking the blame, questions will still be asked. That's if they don't shoot us from the sky first."
"If they can catch up with us," Chang said.
"No, when they catch up. Don't be naive."
Chang walked to the door. "I'd better go."
"Lisa?"
She turned back. "Yeah?"
"Love you."
Chang smiled. "I love you too. Get some rest. We'll probably be needing it."
22.
When she got to the Command Deck, Chang found Captain King had already dismissed both Banks and Hawk. She sat at the helm console, observing the ship functions. "Ah, Lisa," she said, looking up as Chang walked in.
"They've gone already?"
"I thought I'd be okay up here on my own for fifteen minutes," Jessica said. "Anyway, they've done the hard part already. All we've got to do is make sure she flies straight."
"Oh, well," Chang said. She took up a seat next to her at the helm. "We should be in for an easy couple of hours."
Jessica crossed her fingers, held them up. "All digits crossed, please."
"Yes Ma'am," Chang said with a grin.
The Defiant purred underfoot. "You know, I don't often think back to old operations, old missions. But I have to admit I've been thinking about the Sun Hammer a lot since Gentry pointed out the connection."
"Really?"
"Well in all fairness, it's never been the easiest of the lot for me to forget," Jessica said. "You were there. It must be the same for you, right?"
"Oh yeah, sure. It's pretty hard to put something like that to the back of your mind," Chang said.
"I used to wonder how we ever conceived of such a device," Jessica said. "And now we know. It all circles back."
Chang regarded her for a moment. "Captain . . . are you okay?"
"Yes, of course," Jessica said. "I'm just a little tired, to tell the truth."
"Feeling the strain."
"Something like that, yes."
Captain King checked several of the readouts, eyes scanning over the displays to see there were no sudden surprises. Nothing out of place. All systems checked out.
"We orbit the past . . ." she said, looking up at the viewscreen, her gaze distant. "It comes back around, over and over again. Sometimes it feels like you can never escape it. And you’re right. You can't."
"I remember when that happened," Chang said. She looked down at the helm console. At all the flashing lights. "I used to think I'd never sleep again after seeing that. But you know, eventually you do. And it's a sounder sleep than any you've ever known."
Jessica smiled weakly. "That's poetic."
"I mean to say I think you find a way of putting it out of your mind," Chang said. "That's what I did. Forgot about it."
"Until now," Jessica said.
"Yeah. Till now," Chang said.
Jessica looked across. "How long till we cross the Kaseem Ring?"
The Kaseem Ring was a systemwide barrier of dust and ice particles they would have to cross before reaching Zac'u IX. It meant slightly slower speeds and minute course corrections.
"Six hours," Chang said.
A long time to think about things, Jessica thought.
*
Dr. Clayton sat in the gloom of his office, feet up on his desk. He sipped scotch from a tumbler and relished the burn. He closed his eyes.
I never expected it to go like that, he thought, revisiting his conversation with the Captain earlier. But she had to know. I had to tell her.
She had asked him how he could keep such a thing from her. How he could keep it a secret all those years, and Clayton had found himself unable to answer her. Not right then, not with anything she would understand.
She's angry. Everything will sort itself out, he assured himself. Once we get there, she can ask her questions for herself.
He opened his eyes. Drank some more scotch. It caught in his throat and he coughed, bent forward on his chair till it passed. "Damn," he croaked.
The ship felt so empty, so devoid of life. The steady rhythm of the vessel around him was the only indicator they were going anywhere.
With every minute, we get closer. What must she be thinking? What must she be feeling?
He looked down at the glass in his hand. Empty. Time for another.
23.
"I couldn't stop thinking about what the Sun Hammer was capable of," Jessica admitted. "And to have that kind of power at our disposal. It was a terrifying idea, especially after seeing it firsthand."
"Amen," Chang said. "I remember it all clear as day. We were coming back to base. The Captain gave the order. 'Slow to full stop,' he said. Just as he always did."
"The same way every time," Jessica said. "Everyone has their way of doing things, a routine they stick to, regardless of the rules. My Father was no different . . ."
Several Years Earlier . . .
24.
"Slow to full stop," Captain Singh ordered. "Banks, standard docking procedure."
"Aye," First Lieutenant Banks said.
The Captain turned to Commander Jessica King. "Are we good to go?"
She nodded. "Ready when you are, sir."
"Good," Singh said.
Jessica finished up what she’d been doing with Lieutenant Chang, then headed for the exit.
Captain Singh left the command chair and stepped down to the helm. He rested a hand on Lieutenant Banks' shoulder. "You know the protocol. I’ll leave her in your hands."
"Aye Captain," Banks said.
Commander King waited for the Captain at the threshold of the exit. They walked along the adjoining corridor. "Greene has the men ready?"
"Just as you asked," King said. "I’ve gotta say, I still don’t get the skulduggery."
"Neither do I, Jess. But those were the orders. Proceed here at maximum speed, maintain communication silence, and be ready to accept new cargo," Singh recited their directives from command.
"It’s odd," King said.
The Captain shrugged. "Always go on the assumption that you’re the last to know anything."
*
Lieutenant Commander Greene stood waiting by the airlock with four other men.
"Ready to go, Del?" Singh asked him.
"Aye sir," Greene said. "Any idea what it is we’re bringing on board?"
Captain Singh shook his head. "For all I know it could be the Commander in Chief’s birthday cake, a monolith of Victoria sponge with jet black frosting."
Jessica chuckled. Singh turned to her, his face deadpan. "You laugh, Commander, but I’ve known stuff like that to happen."
Lieutenant Commander Greene accessed the airlock controls, and they watched the lights turn from red to green. The airlock hissed open, and they walked through the decontamination jets. On the other side, the awaiting station remained silent. Singh had expected to find a welcome party but the reception area was empty.
"Huh?" King asked. "They know we're here."
Captain Singh put his hands on his hips and frowned. "You’d think –"
The door at the other end opened and a whole team of people filed into the reception area, led by an Admiral bearing more decorations than a Christmas tree.
"Attention!" Singh snapped. King, Greene, and the four other officers from the Defiant stood at attention as their Captain strode forward to shake the hand of the approaching Admiral.
"Arthur!" Singh said with a grin as he clasped the older man’s hand.
"Good to see you, Andrew. I wish it were under different circumstances," Admiral Clarke said.
Singh turned to introduce his people. "This is Commander Jessica King, my right hand. Then Lieutenant Commander Del Greene, and Ensigns Garcia, Fox, Holloway, and O’Quinn," he said.
Admiral Clarke shot them a salute. "At ease."
They relaxed a little.
"So, uh, what’s all this about, Arthur?" Captain Singh asked.
"Walk with me. Bring the Commander along, too," Admiral Clarke said. He led them past the entourage that had followed him into the reception area. The Admiral stopped to talk to one of the men, then continued.
"That was Rafferty, the commander of the station. I told him to work with your crew in getting the cargo stowed properly in the Defiant's hold," Clarke explained.
"What sort of cargo?" Singh asked.
Clarke looked around, tapped the side of his nose. "Not here."
The station was an older model, all ladders and gangways. Small and compact, it functioned as little more than a whistle stop in deep space. The Admiral moved fast for someone of his age. Andrew Singh and Jessica had to keep up.
Eventually they came to an office. The doors sensed Clarke’s bio-signature and opened for him.
"Come in; take a seat," he told them.
The Admiral settled in on the other side of a long desk. Captain Singh and Commander King sat. They watched as Clarke removed his thick glasses and rubbed his tired eyes. He slid the glasses back on before continuing.
"I’ve had hardly any sleep in the past thirty-six hours," he explained. "So forgive me if I appear to be a little tired."
Singh sat forward. "What’s going on here?"
"Top secret shipment, Andrew. I’ve only just found out what it is myself. Orders came straight from the President," Admiral Clarke said. He let what he'd just said sink in for a second. "It seems the fleet's research division has opened Pandora’s Box."
"What do you mean?" Singh asked.
Clarke looked from Singh to Jessica. "Commander King, what you are about to hear is highly classified. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that if you breathe a word of this to anyone, you’ll spend the rest of your life rotting in a penal colony somewhere out on the frontier."
Jessica swallowed. "No, Admiral."
Singh raised his hands. "Arthur, with all due respect . . . what’s good to say in front of me is good to say in front of Jess."
"Then I’ll defer to your judgement, Captain," Clarke said. He drew a deep breath. "Two days ago I received an encrypted communiqué from the President. Apparently they’ve been tinkering with something . . . and they didn’t expect it to work."
"What are we talking about here?" Singh asked.
"A weapon," Clarke said. "A weapon of such destructive force that it can destroy an entire system with only one shot. One shot. Can you imagine?"
Captain Singh slumped into his chair. "My God . . ."
"Admiral, is that what’s being put in our hold right now?" King asked.
Clarke nodded. "Yes."
Jessica looked from one to the other. "Well, is it safe?"
"We believe so, yes," Clarke said. "I’m afraid you don’t have the luxury of deciding whether to take it or not, Commander. It’s a done deal. Normally a starship would have a right to refuse a shipment it deemed potentially volatile. But not in this instance. The order comes from the top. It couldn’t possibly come from any higher."
"How did it get here?" Singh asked.
"The William Tell dropped it off about twelve hours ago," the Admiral said. "But as you know, she's just a light cruiser. We need a ship with some real defensive capabilities. And a Captain we can trust."
"So, you said it’s a weapon. What kind?" King asked him.
Clarke crossed his arms. "They call it a Sun Hammer. It’s a kind of canon that fires a specific type of catalytic energy. When that energy strikes the kind of material at play in the heart of a sun, the reaction is . . . explosive, to say the least."
"Go on . . ." Singh said.
"The weapon is fired. The star explodes, goes supernova," Clarke moved his hands as he explained. "It expands. The reaction destroys everything in its path, then the sun shrinks back rapidly. As quickly as it’s begun, the reaction is over. It shrinks to nothing. Collapses into itself. Gone, as if it never existed."
"That’s . . . unbelievable . . ." Jessica said.
"It’s unthinkable," Singh said, just as awestruck by the implications of such a device.
"Both of those and more. It’s more than a weapon of mass destruction. It’s more than anything we’ve had before in our arsenal. Not even the act of obliterating the surface of a planet is in the same league as destroying an entire star system. The President himself explained the Sun Hammer as an 'abominable weapon of total destruction.' And you can quote me on that one," Clarke said.
"So let’s get this right," Captain Singh said. "They messed about with this technology, then when they realised what it was they’d created, they decided to hide it away somewhere."
"Correct."
"Why not just destroy it?"
"To be honest, they don’t know what will happen to the type of energy source inside if it’s detonated in any way," Clarke said gravely. "Which is why we’ve taken the utmost care in how it’s been transported. As a wise scientist once said, 'Any significantly advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.'"
"Why not assign it first to a battleship. Why start with the William Tell at all? Surely it would've kept things simple. Why the complicated plan?" Singh asked.
Clarke shrugged. "Captain, you know I have my orders too. This is the way they wanted it. I just go with the flow, as we all do. I’d assume the change is for security reasons. Possibly there are concerns the weapon could be the target of forces in opposition to the Union."
"Admiral, if I may," Jessica said. "Where are we taking this thing?"
"Good question," Clarke said. He got up and walked to a holographic display at the centre of the room. He activated it and called up a star chart. It moved past a dozen systems Jessica recognised from memory and even more that she didn’t. The Admiral brought the display to rest on a distant star system, several days travel from any civilised systems. "Here, in the Takei System. We have a secret underground facility on the third planet, guarded by several battle cruisers in orbit. There are only a dozen people within the Union aware of its purpose, including the two of you."
"So what are our official orders?" Singh asked.
"Captain, you are to proceed with haste to the Takei System. You are to observe a complete communication blackout during the journey. Your course has been carefully plotted to avoid any possible encounters with Draxx forces, however, it will take you through several heavily inhabited systems. You are not to stop while in transit. Just keep going until you reach your destination."
"Understood."
"I’ve assigned two of my people to the Defiant to assist in the transport of the device. One of them, Doctor Grissom, knows more about its inner workings than anyone. He travelled here on the William Tell. Doctor Grissom will be responsible for making regular checks of the Sun Hammer to ensure it is stable."
"And the other?" Jessica asked.
"The other is Doctor Russell. He’s one of my own. He’s to assist Doctor Grissom with whatever he needs. Show them both full co-operation," Clarke told them.
"Aye," Captain Singh and Commander King said in unison.
The Admiral showed them to the door. "Good luck, the pair of you. Captain, you’ll find a copy of the orders in your quarters upon your return."
"Thank you," Singh said and shook Clarke’s hand.
"It was a pleasure meeting you, Commander," Admiral Clarke said to Jessica as he saw her out.
"If I could ask one last question, Admiral?" she asked.
"Go on," Clarke said.
"Was the weapon tested?" she asked. "Are the consequences of firing the Sun Hammer purely theoretical? Surely it hasn’t been fired on a sun for real . . ."
Clarke looked down at his shoes. When he looked back up, she could have sworn she saw regret in his lined face. And knowledge.
"Until we meet again, Commander," he said, and shut the door.
25.
The conference room was half empty with only the Captain, Commander King, and Lieutenant Commander Greene present. They waited for the two doctors from the station.
"I don’t like it," King said. "It’s like carrying nitro. We don’t know how stable it is. Certainly we know how volatile it is when fired. I mean, what if it blows?"
Captain Singh sighed. "I know Jess, but we don’t have a choice. Besides, look at the great service we’ll be doing to the entire galaxy by hiding this thing."
"I have become death, destroyer of worlds," Greene said. They both looked at him. "Sorry, it’s something a famous scientist said centuries ago on Earth. It’s always stuck in my head."
"An apt quote, Del," King said. "The Admiral referred to it as being like they’d opened Pandora’s Box. That’s pretty apt too."
Captain Singh sipped his glass of water. "We’re human. We have to push things as far as we can. We don’t know the limit's there until we can reach out and touch it. The evidence of that is sitting in our hangar bay under armed guard."
The doors to the conference room opened. Dr. Grissom and Dr. Russell walked in.
"Welcome gentlemen," Singh said. He got up and shook their hands. "Please have a seat. Can I get you anything? Some water?"
They both shook their heads as they sat.
"Thank you Captain, but no," Dr. Grissom said. "We just had the nicest coffee I’ve had in a long time. Your mess hall is excellent."
"I don’t usually get decent coffee at the station," Dr. Russell explained. "Not this far out."
"Well, I like my crew awake at their posts. Reprocessed coffee grains don’t quite hit it," Singh said. "I trust you’ve been shown your quarters, and that they’re satisfactory?"
"Certainly," Dr. Russell said.
"Good. Now, doctor Grissom, this weapon has been secured correctly in the hangar?" Singh asked.
Dr. Grissom shifted in his seat. Jessica looked him over. He was middle aged, clean shaven, slicked-back dark grey hair. Piercing sapphire eyes. Dr. Grissom was handsome, but Jessica sensed there was something else to him, in the rigidity of his movements, in the air of formality about him. He wasn’t comfortable in this type of setting, not entirely, but he knew he had to make a show of being so.
"Strapped to an anti-grav platform aboard one of your shuttles and locked in with magneto clamps, with two armed guards watching over it. This vessel could lose all gravity tractions, do a somersault, and it would still remain in place inside that shuttle craft. Rest assured, Captain, that weapon is going nowhere," Grissom said.
"You’ve worked with this technology?" King asked him.
"I was on the original team that conceived of it, though I wish I weren’t. The Sun Hammer is not a weapon, on that we’re all wrong in defining it as such. It is a mistake. An awful, regretful mistake I wish we’d never been a part of. However, I was," Grissom said. "Now we must take it to the farthest reaches of our known galaxy and hide it twenty-two miles under the ground."
"I think you’ll find we all share your sentiments, doctor," King said. "We just want to make sure it won’t blow up during transit. We pass through some heavily populated systems along the way . . ."
Dr. Russell cleared his throat. "Uh, both the doctor and myself will be checking the device every six hours and will monitor any change in temperature or radiation. If it were connected to your reactor, the Sun Hammer would be housed in a specially lined chamber."
"This thing’s radioactive?" Greene asked, appalled.
"It does emit very slight degrees of radiation when inactive, however they’re no more harmful than what you'd be exposed to on a sunny day. We will carefully monitor it to ensure the emissions do not change," Russell explained.
Greene sipped his own water now.
"Well, I believe that’s about everything. I don’t see any reason to wait around. We disembark within the half hour," Captain Singh told them all.
"Thank you Captain," Grissom said. He got up from the table. "We’ll both get out of your hair."
"Very well. Doctor Grissom, Doctor Russell, I’ll catch up with you both once we’re under way," Singh told them.
Grissom thanked them all and left.
"Friendly enough," Greene said.
Jessica nodded. She was contemplating how a man of Grissom's age could have such bright blue eyes.
*
Ten minutes later the Defiant cruised away from the station, carrying within its belly the Sun Hammer, the most destructive man-made force ever created.
26.
Captain Singh studied the astronomical charts over Ensign Rayne’s shoulder.
"We’re just leaving the Dunbar System behind, sir," Rayne said, showing him where they were on the chart.
"What’s this disturbance here?" Singh asked, pointing to an area ahead of their present course.
"Our charts update with the latest information regarding galactic weather systems gathered from probes in every system. That is an ion storm," she explained. "It’s not the worst I’ve ever seen, but it’ll still be a bumpy ride."
"And we can’t use the Jump Drive through that," Singh said knowingly. "Any way of getting around it?"
Rayne shook her head. "Not unless you want to cost us a couple of days travel. Although command have plotted this route for us, they couldn’t have known things like this would develop."
Singh straightened up. "I’d just as soon have this whole trip over and done with. Very well, Ensign. Keep an eye out. How long until we reach it?"
"A little under eighteen hours," Rayne said.
Captain Singh returned to the command chair. "Everyone listen up. In eighteen hours we will be dropping from Jump to cross an ion storm. I want full system checks from now until then. Anything we won’t need, shut it down. We don't need things blowing if the Defiant is hit by a discharge of ions."
He turned to Jessica and smirked.
"Time to batten down the hatches, Commander. Looks like the sea’s getting choppy."
*
"What about the hull plating?" Commander Greene asked the Chief.
Meryl Gunn cocked an eye at him. "What about it?"
"The Captain wants the extra power there. We can’t take any chances," Greene explained.
The Chief wiped her hands on a greasy rag. "Look, don’t you worry yourself over it, Del. Leave me to get things down here ship shape. You lot worry about your end of things."
"I’m just asking, Chief . . ." Greene said defensively.
"I know the routine. My team’s already on it. I bet you’ve not sorted out what I asked you to do, though, eh? Requisitioning those parts for the next time we’re in dock?" she asked him.
Greene took a step back. "No, not yet, but I’m on it . . ."
"There we go. Like I said, leave me to mine, and you deal with yours. Then everyone’s happy," she said and sarcastically pinched his cheek.
The Chief walked away. Green rubbed his cheek with one hand but as he left the engineering section he couldn’t help but smirk at the woman’s brass balls.
On his way back to the bridge, he passed Dr. Russell. "Hey doc."
"Good evening, uh . . ." Russell struggled to recall his name.
"Del. Just Del, doc. How’s it going?"
"Fine, fine. I’m about to get my head down for the night. Doctor Grissom will take over checking the device. Everything appears normal so far," Russell explained.
"Good. That’s a bit of a relief. I swear I have night sweats with that thing only a couple of decks under my bunk," Greene said. "Well anyway, good night doc."
"And you, uh, Del," Russell said.
*
Dr. Grissom looked in the mirror. His quarters were only half lit. He studied his face. Everything looked as it should. Beneath what was there, his natural features almost entirely came from his Mother. Apart from the eyes. They were his Father staring right back at him.
He ran a hand over his chin.
Not long now, he thought. Soon we’ll be hitting that storm. Just as planned.
He snapped out of it. There was someone at the door. He opened it.
It was Dr. Russell.
"Evening, Doctor Grissom. Just thought I’d let you know I’m off to bed now."
"Oh. Very well," Grissom said in a flat tone, unable to fully disguise his disinterest. "Good night."
"And you," Dr. Russell said, oblivious, and walked off. The door closed again.
Grissom went back to the mirror.
Not long now, he told himself again.
27.
The Defiant barely crawled through the volatile ion storm.
Commander King unstrapped herself from the command chair as Captain Singh arrived on the bridge.
He took his seat. "Thank you, Commander. Status?"
The ship trembled around them, every inch of its outer hull subject to the cosmic turbulence of the storm.
"We’ve had to reduce speed to one fifth," King reported. "And the Chief has increased power to the hull plating."
"Understood. I’ll take it from here. Go and get yourself something to eat," Singh told her.
"Are you sure, sir?"
He nodded. On her way out he said, "Tell the cook to save me some of that pie, will you? I’ll throw him in the brig if he gives it all away like last time."
Jessica chuckled. "Aye."
*
"Dr. Grissom" was due to inspect the device, even though he was not aboard. Sonjiin of Nyular checked his timepiece. Everything had gone as expected. Once again he found himself in the mirror.
He had to restrain himself from touching the hidden activator on his neck that would change his face back to that of his own. Sonjiin was eager to leave the identity of Dr. Grissom behind. After today, he’d have no further use for it. And he'd look a good twenty years younger, too.
The Union idiots had no idea just how easy it was to infiltrate their inner circles. To convince them, with some minor tampering of their databases, that he’d been there when the thing was created. It was all a lie. However, the real Dr. Grissom had worked on the Sun Hammer during the early stages of its construction before being reassigned to another station. That foundation was more than enough for Sonjiin's people to build on.
And he’d not seen it tested. But he’d heard about it. They all had.
That was why his people – the Outland Raiders – had to have it. With the power of the Sun Hammer at their disposal, the Union would fall to its knees . . .
Sonjiin studied his face again. Beneath it was a smooth, youthful face for one who had done so much. The other members of the Raiders simply called him "Blue Eyes," and he didn’t mind the name. The media reported his various acts of terror, calling him a faceless menace. Soon, they would have a face to put to their reports of anarchy across the galaxy.
Sonjiin closed his eyes, thought back to his childhood back on Nyular. Green fields, blue skies. The migrating avian species the locals called "Cloud Chasers" that occupied the peaks of the Kreskus mountains. His Mother’s cooking in the evenings. Listening to his Father’s stories when they would fish, on those hot days when it would be a crime to do anything else . . .
All of that lost to the Draxx. Because of the Union. Because when they had called for help, the Union didn’t come. Because the peaceful settlers of Nyular, at the very frontier of the galaxy, had refused to accept Union rule, instead opting for independence.
Sonjiin glared at himself in the mirror, blue eyes sparkling with cold fire.
He hated the Union and everything it stood for. As did the Outland Raiders.
They’d done a lot to cause disruption and mayhem, but this would be their crowning achievement. It would be more than terrorism. It would be more than idealism with an edge.
Outright war . . . and a war the Terran Union would never win.
Sonjiin checked the time again. "Time to go."
*
"Sensors have deteriorated to less than ten per cent," Chang reported, dismayed.
"Easy, Lieutenant," Captain Singh told her. "That’s to be expected."
"What am I meant to do? Use visuals only?" Lieutenant Banks asked.
Singh shrugged. "Pretty much, Mr. Banks. Sometimes you just have to . . . fly by the seat of your pants."
It was one of the more powerful ion storms the Captain had ever flown through, that was for certain. Not that he'd have let that be known. From all outward appearances, he was cool as a cucumber but in reality he was keen to have it behind them.
"Aye Captain," Banks said.
*
Sonjiin checked the corridors before climbing through Relay Service Hatch 28. In the confines of the small space, he located the power line control relays to the engines. From his pocket he produced a small, black device. It would go off at a designated time and cut the power. Even though they’d locate the problem before too long and bypass it, it wasn’t a concern. He’d be long gone by then.
Sonjiin set the device for a half hour later, and climbed out of the hatch. Still nobody around, and what if there were? No-one would suspect good old Dr. Grissom of any wrongdoing.
Sonjiin headed for the hangar.
*
"Just one slice?" the cook asked her.
She held up her fingers. "Better save him two. He likes his pie."
"Yeah, he got real upset the last time," the cook said as he put the plate beneath the counter.
"I heard," Jessica told him, picturing the man thrown in the brig for crimes against pie lovers.
She took her sandwich and coffee and sat down at an empty table. The ship continued to tremor all around them, despite the efforts of the dampeners to absorb the turbulence. She didn’t fancy too much to eat. Just a snack.
Jessica also didn’t expect to sleep that well. It was like snoozing on top of a gyrating tectonic plate. Impossible.
She gazed out of a nearby viewport as she ate. The storm was one thing, at least.
Beautiful. It couldn’t be said of many of nature’s lethal dangers. Outside soundless lightning flashed around them. Jessica ate her sandwich.
*
Sonjiin climbed into the shuttle.
"Your shift now, eh doc?" one of the guards asked him through the hatch.
"Yes," Sonjiin said. He disappeared behind the Sun Hammer, as if he were examining a part of it. On the wall behind him hung a selection of basic tools. He selected a laser torch and flicked it on.
The guard had his back to the hatch as he surveyed the hangar’s interior. Sonjiin stood with the torch in hand, his thumb over the lighting switch. He crept up behind the guard and levelled the torch an inch from the back of the man's neck. He activated it, sending a thin beam of pure energy straight at the guard. With one flick of the wrist he had severed the man’s head from his body. The guard only had time to utter "Huh?"
Sonjiin shoved the man forward. The body hit the deck followed by its head, which rolled for several metres before coming to a stop.
"What the hell?" the other guard asked as he bounded over to his fallen comrade.
Sonjiin leaped out, slashed the laser torch in a downward motion. It cut the guard all the way down the front, his innards spilling to the floor.
He didn’t wait for the man to collapse. Sonjiin ran to the controls for the hangar bay doors and set them for a timed release using one of the access codes they’d been able to obtain prior to his arrival at the station.
He dropped the torch and ran for the shuttle. Sonjiin turned to where he knew there was a series of cameras overlooking the hangar. He pressed the side of his neck. The facial stealth technology deactivated, returning his face and hair to its natural state. He waved at the camera. Klaxons sounded around him.
Sonjiin closed the shuttle and settled into the pilot’s seat. Moments later, the engines fired and he brought the shuttle to a steady hover over the deck.
As he waited for the hangar bay doors to open he glanced back into the rear of the shuttle. The Sun Hammer looked harmless enough, secured to its platform.
So does a tiger, he thought. Till you wake it up.
*
"Sir! The hangar bay doors are about to open!" Banks said, shocked.
"What?" Singh asked, just as surprised. His mind raced. "Stop it. Lock it down."
Banks tried. "Captain, I can’t!"
"Ensign Boi, shipwide communications," Singh ordered. "Commander King to the hangar deck at once. Commander King to the hangar deck. Unauthorised launch in progress."
*
Jessica dropped her sandwich and darted for the door. She raced through the ship, stopping only to relieve a male crewman of his side arm. As she continued to the hangar she took the weapon off the safety. It hummed to life in her hand.
*
The doors opened slowly, exposing the airless hangar to the similarly airless vacuum of space. Sonjiin took the shuttle up and over the other stationary vehicles parked there. He took it through the opening in the ship’s side and out into the storm. Almost at once the shuttle was hit by the strength of the tempest.
*
Jessica watched through the blast door viewport as the shuttle took off and exited the ship. She went to the nearby comm. panel and contacted the bridge.
"Bridge this is King. It’s gone. The Sun Hammer’s gone."
28.
Sonjiin flew the shuttle away from the Defiant, then turned the small craft about to face the larger vessel again. He tipped the shuttle’s nose and rose up over the Defiant’s dorsal. As planned, his own starship hovered above the Defiant’s aft fin, completely hidden from both the visual inputs and the diminished sensors of the Union ship. It had travelled with the Defiant for hours that way, within one of the bigger ship’s blind spots.
The Retribution pivoted about to gain him access to its aft cargo bay. Sonjiin spoke into the shuttle’s comm. system.
"Sonjiin to Retribution. Get us out of here as soon as I’m aboard," he said.
*
"Whoever it is, they just piloted that shuttle out of the hangar," Jessica said over the comm.
Before Captain Singh could let that register, the Defiant died around him. Every console went dark, the lights failed. The steady background vibration of the Defiant’s powerful engines faded away to nothing. It took several seconds for the emergency systems to kick in, for the different stations around the bridge to come back online. The emergency lighting flickered to life.
"Engines are down," Banks reported.
Chang looked up from her own readouts. "Complete loss of power."
Captain Singh turned to Lieutenant Commander Greene. "We need to get answers and fast. Somebody needs to explain to me what the hell’s going on!"
*
"You are safe, brother," Belosh said.
"And I have our bounty. Are we about to get underway?"
Belosh nodded. "As you ordered."
Using a scanner attached to his forearm, Belosh performed a diagnostic of the Sun Hammer.
"As you expect it to be?" Sonjiin asked him. Already his men were removing the device from the shuttle.
"Yes. It should not take long to connect it to the Retribution. The containment room was installed precisely as we were told," Belosh said.
The two of them followed the Sun Hammer into the adjacent room, where the sealed centrifuge had been fitted weeks before. It would shield them from the lethal radiation emitted by the device when fully operational.
"Good. Then return to the bridge and I will oversee the connection. You have all done well. At last, our time has come."
*
When the power died, Commander King went straight to engineering. The Chief didn’t even notice her enter the engineering section. She was focused on getting the ship back online.
"Chief," Jessica said as she approached. "Hey, Chief . . ."
Gunn shook her head. "Wait. Give me a second."
King bit her lip. The Chief’s lack of a bedside manner could shock at times, but she was by far the best engineer in the Union. It was worth putting up with her abrupt manner, because she nearly always delivered.
She watched as Gunn coordinated the engineering crew as if she were a military general. The Chief barked orders left and right.
A moment later, the lights came back on.
Jessica smiled.
"We’re not out of it yet, Commander. I can’t get the engines back online," Gunn explained fleetingly as she rushed past. "I’m still working on that one."
"Could it be sabotage?" King offered.
"Perhaps."
Gunn stopped. She locked eyes with Jessica as the implication of what she’d just said set in.
Jessica nodded slowly. "And if you were going to sabotage the engine’s you’d . . ."
". . . cut the power lines at one of the relays!" Gunn said, putting it together in her mind. She rushed away.
"Is there anything I can do?" Jessica called after her.
"Stay out of my way," Gunn called back.
The smile on Jessica’s face disappeared as fast as it had come.
*
"Captain! Dead ahead!" Banks yelled.
On the viewscreen an arrow-shaped ship came into view above them. It went on ahead, corrected its course slightly, then increased speed to leave the Defiant behind.
"Lieutenant Chang, do what you can to track that goddamned ship!" Singh snapped. He cracked his knuckles with frustration. "Banks, as soon as you have engines you will initiate a pursuit course. Let’s hope their trail isn’t lost in this storm."
Lieutenant Commander Greene removed an earpiece. "Apparently the security footage shows Doctor Grissom killing the two guards and then boarding the shuttle."
It didn’t seem possible. "Doctor Grissom?"
"I’ve sent security to go and grab Doctor Russell," Greene said. "Salnow will interrogate him, get some answers."
"Do what you have to. We need to know what’s happened here," Singh said. "Something tells me our Doctor Grissom wasn’t who we thought he was."
And now we’ve lost the galaxy’s most devastating weapon, Singh thought.
He swallowed hard. His throat had turned to dust.
29.
When Commander King returned to the bridge, the engines were back. But in the time it had taken to fix them, the enemy vessel was long gone.
Captain Singh updated her on their situation. "We’re now trying to locate their trail."
"But the sensors are all jammed up, aren’t they?" King asked, hands on her hips.
"They are, but we have enough to work with," Chang said.
"Try looking for their residual wake through the ion storm’s dispersal patterns," King suggested. "Think of an old-style boat cutting across a lake."
Chang’s eyes lit up. "Great . . . working . . ."
Her hands flew over the console controls.
"Well?" Singh asked impatiently.
"Got it!" Chang said. "Tying in with navigation now."
"Excellent," Singh said. "Push her as hard as you can, Banks."
*
"Approaching the system," Vilik announced as Sonjiin strode onto the bridge.
"The device is now tied in with the Retribution's main power banks within the sealed containment room," Sonjiin said with satisfaction.
Belosh looked nervous. "Sonjiin, you’re certain this is where you want to use it . . ."
Sonjiin closed the gap between them. "You doubt me, Belosh? I have led you this far and you doubt me? Brother . . . don’t start to question me now."
"I’m . . . I’m . . . not . . ." Belosh stammered.
The others looked on. Sonjiin rested a hand on Belosh’s shoulder. "Proceed to the system," he ordered firmly. "And we will show the full measure of our resolve to these Union dogs."
"Yes, Sonjiin," Belosh said weakly. "Right away."
*
They left the last of the ion storm behind them.
"Where’s he headed?" Singh asked. He joined Lieutenant Commander Greene at Ensign Rayne’s station.
"It appears to be the Xilin system," Greene said.
"Inhabitants?" Singh asked him.
Greene deferred to the Ensign. "An estimated thirty billion," Rayne said.
The Captain looked up at Greene. "Time?"
"At their current speed . . ." the Lieutenant Commander said, "they’ll be there in under an hour."
Singh walked away, his hands at the small of his back. He worked the kinks out of his neck. "Will we be able to catch them up?" he asked no-one in particular.
"No," Banks answered.
The Captain turned around. "Spool up the Jump Drive, Lieutenant. Prepare for a short burst."
"What’re you thinking?" Jessica asked him.
"A former Captain of mine did it once. Increase elevation, then calculate how much Drive you’ll need to cut the distance between you and the other vessel. With any luck, you end up just ahead of them. But if you get it wrong . . ." Captain Singh explained.
"Road kill," King said with obvious distaste.
"Nice," Singh said with a roll of his eyes. "Okay, everyone buckle up! Prepare for Jump. Del, I want you at the weapons station, ready to fire at my command."
*
Belosh peered over Vilik's shoulder at the readouts from the helm console. "Ten minutes till we reach firing distance."
"Target their sun and prepare to –" Sonjiin was cut off by the helmsman.
"Defiant dead ahead!" Vilik yelled.
Sonjiin's head snapped around. He glared at the hulk of the Union vessel before them. It blocked their path directly. Vilik threw the ship into a nosedive.
*
"We don’t want to destroy them, sir," King said. "There’s no knowing what will happen."
"Agreed. Del, target their propulsion systems with the forward batteries only," Singh said.
"Aye!"
The Captain sat forward in the command chair. "FIRE!"
Lieutenant Commander Greene expertly handled the controls. The Defiant reverberated from the action of the ship's guns. They watched on the viewscreen as the enemy ship ducked beneath them. The guns traced their progress, unable to meet their mark.
"She’s fast," Greene said, tongue between his teeth as he worked the controls. "Switching to lateral batteries."
Lieutenant Banks brought the Defiant around to pursue. There was less than a ship’s length between them.
"Easy, Del," King warned.
Their fire glanced the rear of the craft. A minor explosion knocked the ship off course, but it recovered quickly.
"She’s not firing back. She doesn’t have any weapons," Greene said.
"Just the one," Captain Singh said ominously. He turned to Jessica. "Anything from Salnow?"
"He's still questioning Russell, but so far nothing. Apparently Doctor Russell knew nothing about it. But I didn’t hold out much hope for info anyway," King said.
"Me neither. If he’d been in on it, they would have left together," Singh said. He slapped his thigh in anger. "I can’t believe we were fooled like that."
"We weren’t to know, sir," she assured him. "This is obviously bigger than all of us."
Singh turned back to the viewscreen. The Defiant’s guns trained in on the enemy ship again. Its starboard engine flared white and burst into flame.
"Good shot!" Singh cheered.
"Maintaining speed," Chang said. "Damage to their engines but they’re not slowing."
*
"We’ve lost one engine," Vilik said.
"Keep us out of reach of their guns. We’re so close . . ." Sonjiin said, his face eager with anticipation.
"But, Sonjiin . . . with only one engine, how can we hope to outrun a Union starship?" Belosh cried out, unable to contain his worry.
Sonjiin rounded on him, grabbed him by the jacket and shoved him across the Command Deck. He went flying into the far wall.
"Weak fool! In the palm of our hands we have the power to kill a star," Sonjiin said. His outstretched hand closed into the tight knot of a fist.
30.
Thirty seconds later, the Retribution came into range. Sonjiin fired the Sun Hammer. A bright orange glow lit every nook and cranny of the ship, as if she were ablaze.
A beam of energy stretched from the front of the craft to the fierce sun at the centre of the Xilin system. At first it seemed as though nothing happened.
But within the heart of the sun, where the Sun Hammer's blow had struck true, nuclear reactions of unfathomable magnitude were accelerated to millions of times their normal speed. The sun swelled white hot in a blinding flash as it erupted, doing in moments what would have normally taken billions of years.
The expanding energies of the resultant shockwave consumed all that stood before it. It tore through the orbiting planets, vaporising their atmospheres in seconds. The billions of sentient beings on their surface didn't have a chance to know what had taken place. The shockwave shattered each planet as it blasted through. Entire cultures and civilisations were wiped from existence in a matter of seconds.
And in the presence of all that destruction, Sonjiin smiled.
"This is our message to the galaxy. That we will not be toyed with. That we will not accept anything but total and utter surrender to our terms," Sonjiin said to the other Raiders aboard the Retribution as they watched the explosion from the Command Deck. "Brothers and sisters, we have arrived."
31.
Everything else was forgotten in the afterglow of the supernova. The fleeing ship ahead of them, everything that had happened. All of it. There was only that sun, growing in size, spreading itself out to the farthest reaches of the system.
"Cutting speed to avoid collision with that shockwave," Banks said, but Singh did not hear him.
He stood, speechless before such wanton devastation. So many lives . . . needlessly taken away. It was barely conceivable that an entire star system had just been wiped from existence before them. Singh staggered back and ended up in his chair, unable to stand any longer. He closed his eyes.
His heart was an empty ache in his chest. He felt a hand on the back of his neck. He opened his eyes and looked up. Jessica smiled. She didn’t need to say anything.
Singh nodded. No words. No explanations. No rationalisations of what had happened. The Captain stood again. His strong, firm voice rang out. It pushed everything else away.
"Attention all hands."
They all turned from the horror before them to look at him, and he regarded each of them in turn. Now their mission was simple, and he would see to it that this time there was no failure.
"Increase speed. Every ounce of power to the bow hull plating. We’re not letting these animals escape," he commanded.
"Aye," Banks said.
32.
The enemy vessel broke through the remnants of the shockwave first. The Defiant tore through shortly after. It sounded like a brick wall breaking over the nose of the ship.
Already the sun was shrinking. Withdrawing back into itself. Collapsing. Multiple shockwaves rippled away from it, as if it were a stone's thrown into water.
"The pull of that sun is strong, sir," Banks said. "It’s getting hard to manoeuvre the ship."
"That's why they’ve not changed course. If we can’t move, they can’t either," King said.
"All that matters is stopping them from leaving this star system," Singh said. "They cannot be allowed to use that weapon against another system. If they used it against our own sun . . . the Union would crumble."
"That’s their intention," King said. "It has to be."
"Increasing speed now that we’re through the bow shock," Banks said. "I’ve diverted power from other systems. Engines are straining, but . . ."
"Don’t worry about it. She’ll hold together," Singh said.
Hear me baby? Hold together, he thought to himself.
"If they’re headed straight for what’s left of that sun, then so are we. I don’t see how we’ll break free in time," King said.
Captain Singh’s jaw set with determination. "Either way they’re not getting away with it."
33.
"I was a fool to doubt you, Sonjiin," Belosh said.
"I can’t break free of the sun’s gravity. It’s increased tenfold!" Vilik said from the helm. "And with only one engine . . ."
Sonjiin paced back and forth. Then he stopped, deep in thought.
"I want you to increase speed."
The other crewmen looked on in shock.
"This is madness!" Vilik exclaimed. "Fly toward it?"
"Perhaps it is mad," Sonjiin said. He broke into a grin. "Or perhaps not. If we race towards it, then activate our Jump Drive at the last second, we can shift our trajectory just enough to Jump over it."
Vilik swallowed, then pushed their only working engine to full power. He charged their Jump Drive with grim determination.
*
The sun was little more than a spark of light in front of them, dimming with every passing second.
"Now a white dwarf," Chang said.
"And still shrinking, I bet," King said.
Chang nodded. "The gravitational pull of that thing is unbelievable. I've got every recording device monitoring the sun's degeneration."
"Look at that," Greene said.
They raced past the feeble remains of what had been a planet, reduced to a field of debris and broken atmosphere. A world once home to billions . . . now little more than a slew of dirt running down a plughole.
"It’s unbelievable," Commander King said.
"That’s the problem Commander," Chang said from behind her. "It’s not."
"Lieutenant, any sign of that sun’s gravity starting to wane?" Singh asked.
"Only marginally."
"Time to impact?"
"Minutes, Captain . . ." Chang said.
Captain Singh got back up. He stood behind Banks at the helm. "What’s the other ship doing? Speeding up?"
Banks nodded. "Yeah."
"Slowly reduce speed, Lieutenant. Very slowly. When you hit half engine thrust, apply the braking thrusters," Singh said.
King came to stand next to him. "D’you know something we don’t, Captain?"
"Only a hunch. With their damaged engines, they don't have the power to break away. They think they can overshoot it if they keep racing toward it at increased speed. That’s what I thought, at first. But if that thing is dying down, I’ve a feeling we’ll be able to break free of it simply by hitting the brakes."
"Sometimes you have to act on a hunch," King said.
"Couldn’t have said it better myself," Singh said. "And, if I’m right, we’ll fall short of that thing and they’ll end up shooting straight into it."
"Bulls eye," Greene said.
*
The star died completely, faded to nothing in the wink of an eye. The last of what had once been a bright, youthful sun sputtered out suddenly. One moment there was something there, the next, a dark hole no larger than a planetoid.
"It’s gone," Vilik said.
"Hold your course," Sonjiin said. "Soon we will escape this system then strike at the very heart of the Union. And the dogs will know what it is like to never feel the sun of home against their skin. To feel the wind against their skin. They will know our pain, and we will conquer them all."
*
The enemy ship raced ahead as the Defiant lagged behind.
"Firing braking thrusters," Banks announced.
The Defiant lurched as it slowed, at the same time resisting the gravity exerted by the fallen star.
"Star’s gravitational pull fading away," Chang said. "In no time it’ll just be an empty hole in space."
"The enemy are making contact," Ensign Boi said.
Singh looked at Jessica. "On screen."
The former Dr. Grissom appeared in front of them.
"Greetings. By now I am sure you realise I am not a doctor. My brothers and sisters and I are a part of an organisation you may be familiar with. The Outland Raiders. I am Sonjiin of Nyular," he said.
"We’ve met before," Captain Singh said bitterly. "In a different guise."
"I see that you are falling behind, Captain," Sonjiin said.
"Yes, our engines are failing. It doesn’t matter. You’ll suffer the same fate as us," Singh lied.
"Such a pity. We will leave what remains of this system far behind as you tumble into what was once a great and mighty star," Sonjiin said.
"Do you always talk like this, Sonjiin?"
The Nyularian broke into a wide grin that showed crooked teeth. They transformed his handsome face into something warped and twisted. "I respect your resolve, Captain. But I assure you it’s all for nothing. Soon the Union will lie broken at our feet. Its glory days little more than a fading memory . . ."
Singh turned to Ensign Boi. "Cut this idiot off."
*
The viewscreen changed back to show the enemy ship fast approaching the dark heart of the star.
"He bought it," King said.
"I think so. He knows we can’t just blow him up. And he thinks we’re falling behind because we’re in such bad shape," Singh said. "Now for the cherry on the cake. Lieutenant Commander Greene, please ready a missile."
"A missile?" Greene asked.
"Rig it to detonate approximately six metres above them. But we need to time it so they’re just about to break away from that . . . whatever it is," Singh explained.
"It’s not a black hole, sir, although it looks like it," Chang said. On the viewscreen, a swirl of gases and twisted light were being sucked into a black circle of nothingness. "I don’t know what it is."
"Understood, Lieutenant," Captain Singh said.
"Ready," Greene said.
"They’ll be at the threshold of the dead star in ten, nine, eight, seven, six . . ." Chang counted down.
"FIRE!" Singh yelled.
A Duotonic Missile flared away from the front of the Defiant toward the enemy ship.
*
"Ready?" Sonjiin asked. The black hole left by the fallen star filled their viewport in every direction. The Jump Drive hummed beneath their feet.
"Yes. Jumping now," Vilik said. He threw the control lever. A huge explosion directly above them knocked the ship down as it entered the Jump. Vilik was unable to compensate in time and he lost control as his ship careened into the anomaly.
Everything spun as they shot straight through the dark heart of a former sun. Sonjiin of Nyular did not close his eyes.
34.
The ship emerged into open space. Sonjiin checked the navigational readouts.
"Where are we?" Vilik asked, his voice groggy.
"Exactly where we were," Sonjiin said. He looked at the readouts of their sensors. "Look. There is the anomaly. And there is what’s left of the system. We did it. We overshot the wormhole."
Right then the helm console sparked. Vilik dived out of the way as it burst into flame, electricity arcing from it to the deck. Belosh ran to the side of it and cut the power. The console died.
"We’ve lost our Jump Drive," Belosh said.
"Then fix it!" Sonjiin snapped. "We have a date with destiny."
35.
"Launch a probe into that thing," Singh ordered.
"Aye," King said. "Do it, Lieutenant."
She stood behind Chang as she worked her controls to release a primed probe. Seconds later it shot away from the front of the ship and down into the astronomical plughole before them.
Captain Singh waited patiently, staring dead ahead at the anomaly. It had consumed an entire sun . . . and the galaxy’s most dangerous criminal. He’d had the Defiant maintain a respectable distance from it, lest the wormhole belch.
"Data is coming in . . ." Chang said, a frown shadowing her features.
"Lieutenant?" Singh asked.
Jessica looked first at the readouts appearing at Chang’s station, then the Lieutenant herself. She was busily absorbing the streams of data on her screen.
"It would seem there is a stable spatial environment . . . the other side of the anomaly," King said. "I know it sounds ludicrous, but it would seem it’s not just a big hole. It’s a tunnel."
Singh nodded. "Fantastical, but if that’s what the data implies . . ."
"I’m attempting to access the Union comm. grid," Rayne said.
"A good idea," King said. She looked at Captain Singh who appeared just as miffed by the whole scenario.
Rayne shook her head. "Nothing there, sir. Not on our usual channels. However I am detecting an alternate communication relay present."
"Try to access it, Ensign," Singh said.
Chang spoke up. "I have a theory."
"Go on. I’m all ears," Singh said.
"I think that what’s been created is a kind of wormhole. That would account for what I’m seeing on my screen. Apparently the probe detects the anomaly, and the remains of the system behind it . . . but not us. We’re not there. And the fact that our own comm. grid isn’t present when it is here indicates another galaxy."
"Another galaxy, Lieutenant?" King asked.
"I mean, one just like our own. But different. String theory. Multiple realities existing side by side. Perhaps this anomaly, this wormhole, is a connecting bridge between the two," Chang explained. "Of course it’s just a theory."
"Well at the moment it’s the best theory we have," Singh said. "Now let’s see if we can use that probe to tap into whatever kind of communication grid on that end of things."
*
"Yes Admiral . . ."
"As yet you’ve not made contact with him again?" Clarke asked.
"Correct. We did have readings come back from the probe, perhaps adding weight to the Lieutenant’s theory that this is now some kind of . . . wormhole phenomena. A link from our galaxy to another."
"Keep studying it. Certainly it’s been documented before, though it is highly classified. I’m rallying some ships together to come to your aid. Hang on in there until we can arrive."
"We will Admiral, Captain Singh out."
*
Singh closed the channel and leaned back into the chair in his quarters.
What sort of diabolical mind would detonate a star? This wasn’t just terrorism. It was something more. Genocide. It made his skin crawl.
His intercom came to life.
"Captain Singh, report to the bridge."
He sighed.
"I’m on my way."
*
Singh walked back onto the bridge. "Yes?"
"We have contact sir," Ensign Boi said. "From the wormhole."
Captain Singh frowned. "Come again?"
36.
Singh looked at Jessica. She seemed just as miffed as he did. He licked his lips.
"You’re connected, sir, but it’s weak," Ensign Boi said.
"This is Captain Singh of the Union Starship Defiant, T. U. zero-one-one-three-eight. To whom am I speaking?"
The reply was hidden by a cloud of static. The speakers popped and hissed. Singh opened his hands as he looked expectantly at the Ensign.
"I’m clearing it up," Boi said.
Captain Singh crossed his arms, his chin in his hand as the connection cleared.
"This General Millner. Who the hell is this?"
Singh looked at Jessica. She shrugged.
"Captain Singh of the –"
"We don’t recognise that classification. Who're you with?"
"General . . . do you have a spatial anomaly nearby?"
More static. Ensign Boi fought with the controls to keep the transmission steady.
"Yeah. Some kind of hole in space."
"This may sound fantastical to you but we are talking to you from the other side of that anomaly," Singh explained.
"From another end of the galaxy?"
Singh licked his lips. "No, General. We believe the wormhole is acting as some kind of connecting tunnel between your universe and ours."
There was no response.
"You’ve been checking your charts, General, trying to figure out where you’ve gone wrong, I bet. There should be a star system here, and all you see is –"
"– this anomaly and a tonne of debris."
"That’s because the system was just destroyed. We’ve been in pursuit of the man responsible. But he has now crossed through to your side," Singh said.
"We don’t detect another ship," Millner said.
"I’ll have all of our data sent through to you. It should allow you to track him," Singh said.
"And this guy destroyed a whole star system you say? What did he do, blow up a star or something?" Millner asked with an incredulous chuckle.
"That’s it in a nutshell, Captain. The man in charge of that ship is called Sonjiin. I cannot emphasise enough to you the severity of the situation. He must be stopped at all costs. We have saved our own galaxy . . . now I’m afraid you must save yours."
"A mad man."
"And a terrorist. We believe he will stop at nothing to test it out on home soil, so to speak," Singh said gravely. "We think he’s going to destroy Sol."
"How do I know this isn’t some kind of trick?" General Millner asked him.
"You’ll have to trust us. We will send through our footage of the last couple of hours, Captain, and you can decide for yourself," Singh said.
"If it’s so important we get this guy, why don’t you come through yourself?"
"There’s no guarantee that what comes through can come back. In either case, you don’t have long. He must be stopped. Trust me when I say, Sonjiin won’t hesitate to use the weapon again. In fact, he means to," Singh said with a sigh. "The future of the human race rests in your hands."
There was a long pause, then: "Don't sweat it. I think I have just the guys for the job . . ."
. . . Now
37.
"What did they blame it on in the end?" Chang asked.
"Natural disaster. Clarke put it off limits to all vessels so that the system couldn't be evaluated by scientific personnel. Good call, really. They might've figured out it wasn't anything like a natural event," Jessica said.
"I remember when they closed the link to the other universe," Chang said with a shake of her head. "Crazy. To think we have counterparts on that side. Did you ever look to see if they had them here?"
"No. I thought it would be too strange. What would be the point, you know?"
"I suppose."
"They were some fine specimens of the opposite sex, though. I will admit that," King said.
"Captain!" Chang exclaimed, shocked.
"What? I'm still a woman, aren't I?" Jessica asked with a chuckle. "Anyway, I've sort of got a male friend now."
"Really?"
"Yes is it so unbelievable?"
"No, no, no I didn't mean it like that. Not at all. I just can't picture you with a lover, that's all."
"Well," Jessica said. "I never told you he was a lover. A male friend. Will Ardai. He's off on assignment at the moment."
"Oh. Do you stay in touch?" Chang asked.
Jessica nodded. She didn't want to say that no, she couldn't maintain contact because he and his unit technically didn't exist. It was easier to lie – albeit a small one – to avoid the questions for now. The less Chang knew about Shadow Force for the time being, the better.
"Anyway, that weapon has haunted me for years. And by the looks of things, it has you as well," Jessica said. "But the woman behind it, Doctor Kingston, she's the one with the blood on her hands. She had a lot to answer for."
"We'll be there soon. Then we'll see what she has to say for herself," Chang said.
Yes, Jessica thought, an icy sense of panic in her chest. She swallowed. She wished she'd never started it all. She wished that she'd let them reassign her to another ship. She wished she could have easily put Del's memory to rest.
But that was impossible. And now, with what Dr. Clayton had told her . . .
"I have a lot of questions," she said eventually. "And I won't leave till I get the answers. So Kingston had better be in a talkative mood."
38.
The Defiant sped through minute planetary debris, ice, and dust, billions of kilometres thick. The Kaseem Ring extended out like a halo, and the Defiant left a wake of disturbed particles that would be visible for centuries to come. Just as their ship crossed boundaries, so too did the Defiant's crew come to terms with their own actions. What might they leave in their wake?
What lay ahead of them? And what would come once they'd been found by those they had disobeyed in their quest for truth?
As the Defiant continued on her way, those questions were at the forefront of their minds. That and the echoes of the past. For you can only run so far, for so long, before everything catches up.
As Captain Jessica King monitored the ship's progress past the Ring and back into normal space, she wondered how long she would run if she had to. How far would I go, if it came to it? What's my limit?
PART IV
Unto The Silent Planet
39.
Admiral Kerrick walked back and forth, hands clasped behind his back, head down, deep in thought. His staff watched him go from one side of the room to the other, all the while their anxiety increasing.
Commander Hopper got up from his station. "Sir. Admiral."
Kerrick stopped, looked up, eyes fixed on his subordinate.
Hopper licked his top lip. "Admiral, if I may. There is simply no way of tracking them with so much backwash. We can only guess at where they've headed next."
"Oh?" Kerrick asked.
"Y-y-yes," Hopper stammered. "Without further leads, we simply cannot determine their location. It would seem their locator beacon was deactivated prior to departure."
"Well –" Kerrick started to say, finger raised, advancing toward the young man just as an announcement went out on the overheads.
"Admiral Kerrick to the security office. Admiral Kerrick to the security office. Priority one," the female voice said.
Kerrick stopped in his tracks, listened, then turn on his heel and left the Command Deck. The staff collectively breathed a sigh of relief as the door closed behind him. Hopper dropped back into his chair. Suddenly, his legs felt weak.
*
"What is it?" Kerrick asked.
Already he had a continual thump behind his right eye. It would increase with stress. As Captain Jessica King and her crew perturbed him further, the pain would increase. And somebody would pay the price. It was always the same way. If his people did their jobs properly, it would be King on the receiving end.
"Sir–"
Kerrick snapped his fingers. "Come on! I don't have all day!"
"Yes sir. Reviewing the security tapes, I managed to find this. An unmarked vessel."
The lieutenant showed Kerrick to a large holodisplay. A rugged ship sat at docking bay seven. The lieutenant pointed to the registry at the bottom right hand corner of the screen.
"Pretty generic," he said. "And not one a Union vessel would use."
"Hmm."
"And there's this. It's my reason for calling you here," the Lieutenant said. He cycled through the footage.
Kerrick's eyes widened in surprise. Jessica King stood in front of the airlock to bay seven for a moment, then stepped through.
"Bingo," the Admiral whispered. He turned to the Lieutenant, a grim smile on his bony face. "Go through every second of footage. I want to know who that ship belongs to. I want to know where King went, who she spoke to. When she went to the head and at what frequency."
"Yes Admiral."
"Good work," Kerrick said and left.
40.
"We're here," Banks said. On the viewscreen, their destination looked about as inviting as Jessica had thought it would. A grey ball of dust, tucked away in a forgotten pocket of the galaxy. Nondescript and uninteresting to the furthest extent.
Zac'u IX was one of nine similarly bland planets orbiting a pale white star. It had three ragged, dull grey moons and a band of debris that encircled the planet in a haphazard, almost scruffy manner.
"Yes, looks lovely," Chang commented. "I must book some shore leave here, soon as I can. I really feel the resorts will sell out."
"It looks like the last kind of place in the whole universe you would want to go to," Banks said.
King smirked. "Which makes it the perfect candidate for a secret base."
Dr. Gentry stood at the back of the room watching proceedings, his hands in his pockets. "Captain, if I may, we will need to get closer and scan the surface. I believe it will be heavily shielded from orbital observation. However, you will find slight energy emissions of point one two. Find those, follow them to their source and you'll have the secret facility."
She turned to look at him. "Point one two, eh? That's very precise."
He shrugged. "I hate to say it, but I've spent my fair share of time in secret locales. Places that shouldn't exist. Not everything we pulled out of the ground on alien planets could be declared to the public at large, Captain King. Most facilities employ a means of camouflaging emissions, but there is a negligible point one two that always escapes into the atmosphere."
"So if we can't see it from above, it'll be there if we detect that coming from the surface?" Jessica asked.
Gentry nodded. "Indeed."
"Chang, you know what to do. Banks take us in for geosynchronous orbit. Nice and steady does it," King ordered.
"Aye," Chang said.
"Aye Captain," Banks said, working the console controls. The Defiant continued onto the planet, and the Lieutenant expertly slipped them into a standard orbit. Chang immediately set about scanning the surface. Banks used the ship's thrusters to accelerate them ahead of the planet's normal rotation. However he maintained their relative distance from Zac'u's equatorial line.
Chang's face was tight with concentration, studying her readout so as not to miss anything that might indicate the presence of the structure that Gentry had assured them existed on the surface.
"Anything?" King asked.
"Not yet."
"Captain . . ." Rayne said. She listened intently, hand on her earpiece.
"Olivia? What is it?" Jessica asked.
"You're not going to believe this, but I'm receiving a signal from the surface. They're requesting we present our authority to be here."
Jessica thought for a moment before replying. "Open communication lines. Tell the surface we are here under orders of Admiral Kerrick."
Banks clucked his tongue and let loose a laugh in disbelief. "Damn."
Rayne did as she was told, meanwhile Commander Chang continued to monitor the scan results. She looked up from her monitor. "I believe I have it. I'm sending the coordinates to the viewscreen now so you can all see."
Gentry came to stand next to King as the screen changed from a view of the monochrome planet, to a partially hidden building that stood under the shadow of an enormous mountain ridge. It afforded virtual invisibility from prying eyes.
"That's it," Gentry said.
"We have permission to land at the site. Doctor Kingston has been informed that we've arrived," Rayne said.
"Okay. Close the channel again. Remember, we receive but we don't transmit."
"Yes Ma'am," Rayne said.
"So what do we do?" Banks asked.
"What do we do?" Jessica shrugged. "We go."
41.
"Sure ya trust me drivin'?" Hawk asked with a lopsided grin.
"Get in the front, you goof," Selena Walker said, slapping a kiss on his cheek before giving him a hearty shove through the side of the shuttle.
"Thanks for that Selena," Jessica said. "He's too much for one woman to handle."
Selena's cheeks turned a healthy shade of red. "Well . . ."
"Oh! I didn't mean it like that!"
The two women laughed. "It's okay, Captain. You're quite right on both accounts."
The shuttle's engines rumbled to life. "Lift off in two minutes!" Hawk yelled from the cockpit.
Selena shook her head. "Good luck with him," she said as she walked off.
Jessica watched her go, thinking, Yeah thanks.
Dr. Gentry clambered aboard the shuttle. "I'm not late, am I?"
"Considering I only put the call out ten minutes ago, Doctor, no you're not."
He smiled and took a seat. Jessica looked back. She had hoped Dr. Clayton would appear – that he would come to the hangar just to see her off.
Sorry Doc, she thought. Sorry for overreacting, for taking it all out on you, as if you were to blame for the past.
But he hadn't turned up. Her heart heavy in her chest and secretly anxious at what awaited her down on the surface, Jessica got into the shuttle, closed the door and took her seat next to Gentry. "Okay, Hawk, let's get going," she said.
"Aye Cap," the Texan said. The seals around the door isolated their atmospheric pressure from the hangar. With swift movements, Hawk brought the shuttle to a steady hover over the deck as they waited for the hangar doors to open.
Jessica glanced back, looked through one of the small viewports. She'd not hoped any further but, sure enough, there he was. Clayton stood with his arms folded behind the observation glass in Eisenhower's office. He saw her looking and nodded his head. She returned the gesture. Smiled. She'd not been so glad of anything in a long time. The doors opened, revealing the silent planet itself. Hawk increased the output of the engines and the shuttle took off.
42.
The thin stratosphere peeled back like mist to reveal the black and white landscape below. A land of deep shadow, sharp highlights, and endless grey.
Hawk took the shuttle on a gentle descent toward the distant mountain ranges. Their ridges lined the horizon, like the jagged spines of dinosaurs lazing under the colourless sun.
"There," he said, pointing to the well of shadow beneath the peaks. The facility resolved out of the din. "Slowin' us down now, Cap."
"Nice flying, Captain Nowlan," Jessica said. "You should consider a piloting career."
He chuckled. "Yeah, I get told that all the time."
Jessica turned to Dr. Gentry who sat clutching a slim carry all he'd brought with him for reasons she hadn't bothered to ponder. "Are you okay, Doctor?"
"Yes, yes," Gentry said with vigorous nods. "I just get a little . . . queasy when it comes to actual atmospheric flight."
"And yet you have no problem boarding an alien artefact the size of a small moon . . ."
The Doctor considered this, then shrugged. "What can I say? I'm fickle."
"That's not how I'd describe it," Jessica mumbled as she turned back around. The mountains loomed ever closer and below them, at the feet of the giants, all her hopes for answers.
43.
The air was dry, still. Old. Jessica peered out, not noticing the figure emerging from within the building until he was well on his way toward them.
"Gentlemen. We have company," Jessica said. She didn't have to look to know that Hawk's hand already hovered over his holster.
She recognised the outfit the man wore. The bland white overalls of the science division. He was middle aged, had thin red hair and a wide smile.
"Greetings," he said as he drew near. "I am Doctor Caise."
Jessica shook his hand. "Captain Jessica King. This is Captain Dolarhyde and Doctor Wilfred Gentry."
Even here, in the hind end of space, King stuck with calling Hawk by his new name. In case questions were asked later, and the name Gerard 'Hawk' Nowlan came up. It was more trouble than it was worth. The people who deserved to know, did. That was all that mattered.
He greeted them in turn, his smile never faltering. "Would you care to follow me inside? The weather is permissible at the moment, but we are prone to quite dangerous sand storms. Best not to get caught out in the open in one of those."
"Of course. That's what we're here for. Please lead the way," she said.
Caise bowed his head slightly. "With pleasure."
*
The building was huge, filled with endless corridors and a plethora of doors that led to who knew where. Their host, for his part, seemed to know exactly where to go. Lights flickered on and off as they walked past them.
"Ah. Here we are," Dr. Caise said. They'd arrived at a door with a sign on the front that read ADMINISTRATOR.
Caise pressed the buzzer. The door opened from within to reveal an office.
Behind the desk inside sat a similarly middle aged woman, blonde hair turning to silver at the sides. But she remained beautiful, quite youthful in her way. Startling blue eyes that seemed to burn with a cool, inner fire.
"Administrator Kingston, our visitors have arrived," Caise said, showing them into the office. "This is Captain Jessica King of the starship Defiant and two members of her crew. Captain Dolarhyde and Doctor Gentry."
Kingston stood. "Welcome."
Jessica's heart thumped in her chest. She'd thought of all the things she would say when she came face to face with the doctor. Yet now she stood in front of Kingston, everything bled away. All anger left her. There was only the same sadness that had swung back and forth within her for her whole life. A cold metal weight, in itself an endless reminder of all she'd not had, not known, not felt because she was an orphan – or had been until recently. A lot had changed.
Jessica suddenly realised that she had her hands clenched into fists at her sides. She made a concerted effort to loosen up.
"Nice to see you again," Gentry said, stepping forward to shake her hand.
"Likewise, Wilf," Kingston said. "It's been too long."
"Yes indeed."
Kingston glanced to the side. She registered something on Jessica's face. "Uh, Doctor Caise. Why don't you escort Mister Dolarhyde and Doctor Gentry around the facility. Allow me to talk to Captain King in confidence."
Caise didn't hesitate. He opened his arms, palms up. "Friends. Shall we?"
The two men looked to Jessica for guidance, but she merely waved them on. "Go ahead."
"Come on Doc," Hawk said, following Caise back out of the room.
Gentry followed suit. He turned back around on his way out. "Bye for now."
The door closed behind them. Jessica watched Kingston settle back into her seat, a reflective look on her face. "So."
"So."
"We have much to discuss," Kingston said.
"Yeah," Jessica said, face set. Again that anger, bubbling up. Breaking the surface. "Yeah, we do."
44.
Dr. Caise led them from one room to another, excitedly describing the various experiments and equipment on display. For his part, Dr. Gentry took a genuine interest in most of what Caise showed them, though it struck Hawk that they were being babysat while the Captain and Kingston had their conversation.
So it was to Hawk's relief when a shrill chirp came from Caise's wristband. When he checked it , his entire demeanour changed within an instant.
"Excuse me gentlemen, but I must leave you here to attend to another matter," he said.
"Sure, pal, don't mind us," Hawk said.
Dr. Caise started to walk away, obviously thought better of it, and turned back. "Please don't wander. Some of the experiments are . . . dangerous."
"We won't go anywhere we're not meant to," Gentry assured him.
Caise smiled and left them.
"Bless the stars for that!" Hawk said. "I was bored to tears."
"I've found his tour quite stimulating," Gentry said. "But I do feel we've been kept out of the way."
"Yup," Hawk said.
He started for the door on the other side of the room, directly opposite the one Caise had exited through.
"Where are you going?" Gentry asked.
"No. Where are we going," Hawk corrected him. He opened the door a crack and looked out. It was empty outside. As it had been since the moment they arrived. "There's people at work here. Lots of 'em. And we're gonna go look, see where the hell they are. Cause they ain't in these rooms."
"We shouldn't really be wandering around," Gentry said, worried. "Doctor Caise said –"
Hawk waved a hand at him. "Nah! To hell with Doc Suitcase. Come on son, let's hustle." He grabbed him by the arm and left the room. Dr. Gentry huffed and puffed as he got pulled along for the ride.
"Oh dear. Out of the frying pan . . ." he mumbled.
45.
"Anything happening down there?" Selena Walker asked.
Chang monitored from her station. "Nothing. They went in, and that's about it."
"There's been no further communication from the surface," Rayne said.
"God it's so painful sitting up here, not knowing," Walker said.
Chang looked up at the viewscreen. A bland planet, unremarkable but for its breathable atmosphere and comfortable temperatures. No life. Hardly any water down there apart from what was trapped in the atmosphere in the form of scant moisture.
The perfect planet to hide a secret experiment.
"Well if it's to be found," she said. "It'll be here."
"What makes you and the Captain so sure?" Banks asked.
Dr. Clayton stood at the back, arms folded. "Cause it's a pit."
"Doctor?"
"Remember, the hybrids were trained on a similarly backwater planet. A bit like this. A dustbowl. Only that was a colonial world. Towns, a starport. You name it. But still, a dry ball of baked earth," Clayton said. "The Union seems to choose these places because they're so harsh."
"So the worse they are, the better," Banks said.
Clayton nodded. "Something like that, yeah."
Commander Chang looked over to Rayne. "Anything coming in from command? Orders to turn ourselves in and the like?"
"Not yet. But there will be."
"What about that weather formation?" Selena asked, pointing to a region at the bottom of the viewscreen.
"Some kind of storm, it'll be a few hours before it reaches them yet," Chang said.
Storm on the horizon. Sky full of portents. Trouble coming, she thought. Don't I know it . . .
46.
Silence.
Kingston regarded her with a relaxed expression, seemingly at ease with her fingers steepled in front of her mouth.
"So," Jessica said, breaking the quiet. "You know why I'm here."
"You've learned the truth," Kingston said. She sat back in her chair. "I thought it may happen one day. But, although it goes against my better judgement, I decided to push the matter to the back of my mind."
"Well, here I am. In the flesh," Jessica said.
"Indeed. And . . . dare I say, it is good to see you."
"All these years I thought I was an orphan. Then I learned Andrew Singh was my biological Father. And now . . ." she looked away. "Clayton told me."
"I never wanted to be a Mother," Dr. Kingston said, showing emotion for the first time since they'd met. "I wasn't made for it. And in my line of work . . . I couldn't have a daughter to worry about. Couldn't have you exposed to what I do."
"You're my Mother. You should have been there. I grew up thinking I didn't have parents," Jessica said.
She couldn't help it. The tears were there. Flooding hot, down her cheeks. She wiped at them absently, not caring what it looked like. Self respect seemed a long way away when you found yourself face to face with a parent you didn't know existed.
Kingston offered her a box of tissues. "Here. Wipe your face. Please."
She took them grudgingly. "How could you do that to me?"
Her Mother closed her eyes, sighed heavily as though she couldn't answer her with her eyes open. It was easier to not have to look at the little girl she'd abandoned decades before. Abandoned – and forgot about.
"Jess, there is a lot you don't understand. It was a dangerous time. The work I did for the Union . . . one of many projects of ours I believe Andrew and yourself came into direct contact with. An awful device. But not the worst by a long shot. I did not want my offspring around that lifestyle. And unlike you, I am an orphan. I had no family to fall back on," Kingston explained.
"Did Dad know all along?"
Kingston opened her eyes. There were bloodshot. "Not straight away, no. How did Clayton learn the truth?" she asked.
"Dad told him. But the Doctor kept it from me until a short while ago. Apparently he swore not to tell me. He said –"
"Go on," Kingston urged her.
"He said you were a bad woman. A monster."
"And I was. I've lived a life of mistakes and cruelty in many ways," Kingston said. "Many of those things I cannot make amends for. But now, perhaps . . ."
Jessica shook her head. "You will never fix what you broke when you left me to continue your work. Never. Clayton's right. You're some kind of monster. I couldn't abandon any child of mine."
"I'm sorry," Kingston said. "Truly, I am."
Jessica daubed at her eyes with a ball of tissue. The tears had stopped for a moment, replaced by the anger again. "I could have lived my whole life and not known."
"Would it have been better if you had?"
Jessica's voice lodged in her throat. She couldn't think of any way to answer her. None at all.
"I chose your name, you know. Your Father didn't have a say in it. Though I knew the Kingston part was far too easy to trace. So I shortened it to King."
Jessica took a deep breath. "I have wondered how I got my name."
"There you go. Mystery solved."
"You know what they say about mysteries. They're like hydra. Deal with one and two more pop up in its place."
"You must have a lifetime of questions," Kingston said.
More than you could know, Jessica thought. The thing is, do you have the answers?
47.
"How did you even end up in this line of work? You're obviously a talented scientist," Jessica said.
Kingston shrugged. "I just did. You know yourself, sometimes your vocation chooses you and not the other way around. Andrew pursued a military career. I went the other way and buried my head in books and papers. It wasn't until later that I was talent spotted by the science division and offered employment on their latest project."
"I take it you were pregnant already at that point," Jessica said. "Why didn't you just terminate me?"
"It wasn't something I could consider. I am responsible, in an indirect fashion, for the deaths of a great many people through my work," Kingston said. "However I have never murdered anyone. There's no way I could terminate an unborn child. Especially my own. I'd never have lived with myself."
"I have to admit, I don't think I could either," Jessica said.
"Conscience. It's a fickle thing. The difference between the things we can live with and the things we can't is not always so glaringly large. It's a thin line, but not one that I was willing to cross. Not then, not ever. A person should have to live with, and deal with, their mistakes."
Jessica's eyes widened in surprise. "Oh, so I'm a mistake now? You're actually coming out in the open and admitting it."
She got up. Kingston waved her hands. "No, no, no. That's not what I meant. Please sit back down."
Jessica considered for a moment, then slowly lowered herself back into her seat. "Go on."
"I meant, you were my responsibility, planned or not. But I wasn't cut out for motherhood. And I was about to go and work on top secret projects for the science division. I was not naive, Jessica. I knew the kind of things I might end up getting involved with. So I hid the pregnancy until the time was right, then had you in secret. That was when Andrew got involved," Kingston explained.
"He didn't know all along?"
"No. I was always going to tell him, but I couldn't find a way of breaking the news. However, when I started to show too much, I requested a leave of absence. Thankfully it was granted without question. I waited out the last few months of my pregnancy, then made contact with him. He was very understanding," Kingston said.
"He was a good man."
"The best. And he understood what I was telling. The lab is no place for a child to grow up . . . nor is the bridge of a starship. He agreed it was in your best interest to seek another home for you. So that's what we did."
It had been enough knowing Singh kept his true identity secret from her for years, but to know he'd played a part in her growing up without parents all seemed too much for her to handle. At least for the time being.
She cleared her throat. "So how did you two meet, anyway?"
Kingston got up. She walked to a cabinet on the other side of the room, opened it up to reveal bottles of drink. "I don't know about you, but I could use one of these right about now."
Jessica watched her pour two short glasses with a light pink liquid. She handed her one, then held her glass out for a toast.
"To the ghosts of the past," Kingston said.
"I'll drink to that," Jessica said.
The pink stuff didn't burn as it went down, but it had fire. Soon she felt as if her insides were going to start smouldering. It left a distinct aniseed aftertaste on her tongue but was not unpleasant. Far from it. The liquor of an academic.
"Another one?"
"Sure," Jessica handed her the glass and watched her Mother fix them another. "So did you ever think about me over the years?"
"I did. And I eventually looked you up," Kingston said. "I have to admit to feeling pleased you take after your Father more than I. He always said he had command in his blood."
Kingston handed her another glass full of the pink liquid, then sat back down on the other side of the desk.
"You were going to tell me about him," Jessica said.
"Yes," Kingston said. She took a sip of the liquor. "He had thick black hair back then . . ."
48.
Clayton wandered through the ship, hands in his pockets. He'd felt like a spare tire on the Command Deck. Now, without anything to do in a medical capacity, he walked the corridors of the Defiant deep in thought. Unhindered by passing crewmen, by the hustle and bustle of the ship when she operated normally. Now it was quiet as a tomb, the perfect environment for considered thought.
But as he knew all too well, sometimes it was better not to think at all.
"Doc?"
Clayton nearly jumped out of his skin. He spun around, searching for the body to accompany the voice that had spoken out of nowhere. There on the floor, sitting behind bulkhead was the Chief.
"You scared the life out of me!" he said. "A man my age . . . what're you doing, sitting there like that?"
Gunn shrugged. "What's the problem? The ships' empty. Anyway, what're you doing walking around like that? You looked like a zombie."
"I was just . . . walking."
"Yeah I could see that. What, are you bored?" Gunn asked.
He noticed she had a cup of coffee next to her on the floor, and what looked like the remnants of a ration bar.
"You know they're not good for you," Clayton said, pointing to the ration bar wrapper. "They're extremely high in fats and sugars. They're meant for survival, not for snacking with your hourly coffee."
"Don't lecture me right now, Doc. It's the last thing I need. Here, fetch a pew," she said, patting the floor next to her.
Clayton plopped himself down.
"I take it we're kindred spirits," Gunn said. "Wandering the ghost ship, lost in thought."
"Looks like you gave up on the wandering part," Clayton said, indicating her coffee.
"Well, we're both surgeons. I fix ships, you fix people. But without either to tend for, what do we have? Our own thoughts. Our own rubbish," Gunn said with a sigh. "All stuff we'd rather not have to think about."
"Amen to that."
"So what worries you, Doc?"
He sighed. "Jess and I . . . we had words," he said.
"When?" the Chief asked, shocked.
"Before we arrived," he said regrettably. "It wasn't pretty."
"What about?"
"I'd rather not say," Clayton told her. "If you don't mind."
He thought back. Jessica in his face.
"You have kept this secret all these years? Why?"
He stammered. Took a step back from her. "Jess. I was sworn to secrecy. Your Father didn't think you needed the trouble in your life. You'd done fine on your own."
"No, I got through. I managed. There's a difference," she said bitterly.
"Jess, I'm sorry," Clayton said.
"So Doctor Kingston's my Mother, and you spring this news on me now, when we're inches away from knocking on her door," she said. "You should be ashamed of yourself."
"Jess –"
He tried to touch her. She shrugged him off. "You disgust me."
*
Clayton's heart ached from the memory of it. He'd so wanted to have it all over, to restore what they'd had before. But now she'd never trust him again. Not in the same way. Perhaps she was right. He should have told her the identity of both parents when he diagnosed her MS. But he didn't.
"I'm sure whatever it was, Doc," Gunn said in a soft voice. "It'll all sort itself out. Though I can't say I'm not curious."
Clayton smirked. "You know what it did to the goddamn cat, don't you?"
"All too well."
49.
"He was a good looking man, your father," Dr. Kingston said, her eyes bright as she remembered Andrew Singh as she'd known him. "Of course, we were both very young."
"And you were in love?" Jessica asked. She thought about her own love affair years ago with Will Ardai. How the two of them had bumped into each other, purely by chance, to find that old fire still burning. As if nothing had happened between them, no time had passed. What should have been a gulf felt, in fact, like a hiccup in their relationship with one another.
"Very much so. But he had his work . . . and I had mine, of course," Kingston said.
"So tell me about the Enigma."
"What about it?"
Jessica told her the story. How they were sent to dock with it, board it. Make a survey of the interior. And what they found in there. Or didn't find.
"That was years ago," Kingston said. "I've not been in a space suit for a long time."
"Yes I know. But still, you can't have forgotten. Tell me about the first rendezvous with it," Jessica said firmly. "I think you can understand how it would interest me."
Her Mother rubbed the tired corners of her eyes. "Fine, if that's what you want," Kingston said, "I'll tell you."
50.
"I served aboard the Demeter as science officer. Kerrick had recently been placed as Captain of the vessel. It was all pretty routine, at least at first. The Enigma had been located almost by luck. An anomaly on the readings of a passing probe that prompted Union cartographers to go back through the data to ascertain what had caused it.
"That's when they found the cylinder orbiting the planet. The Demeter was secretly assigned to investigate and, if possible, get inside. I voiced my concerns about the mission to Kerrick, but he wouldn't hear any of it.
"We drew up in front of it, matching velocity and pitch, as you can imagine. Then we exited in EVA flight suits, using our thruster packs to draw slowly closer and closer to the front end.
"I'm sure you're familiar with the rest. We found an opening, dead centre of that huge disc, and used that to gain entry. Inside . . . well, I think you'll agree, it was like nothing I'd ever seen before. We trod carefully, not wanting to disturb too much. We were in there days before we arrived at the aft section. That's when we found them. The crew. All in hibernation. All very much alive.
"Captain Kerrick waited for further instructions from command. In the meantime, we noticed the vessel had activated some kind of response to our entry. One of the pods, in particular, had begun to cycle through a thawing process. Kerrick took it upon himself to order a withdrawal. As we left, we noticed the lights going out behind us. Everything returning to the state it had been before we arrived. We assumed that the occupant of that hibernation pod would remain in stasis with us out of the way.
"Kerrick received word from command that we were to remove specimens. I was outraged, told him it contravened several conventions and directives. But he wouldn't listen. He went over there himself, with six others, and together they removed some of the crew from their pods. Pretty soon I had a station set up in the sickbay so that I could monitor the Namar as they woke. Kerrick had them chained to the tables, and a good thing too. When they came around, the first thing they did was to try and get up. You could see the fury in their eyes. If they'd got out . . .
"As we left the Enigma behind, Captain Kerrick sat us all down. 'This whole mission is now classified at the highest level. D'you understand? If any of you breathe one word of it, you'll find yourselves doing hard time on a penal colony somewhere. I'll make sure of it,' he warned us.
"So we forgot we were ever there. They didn't post a ship to watch over the Enigma, because it was so well hidden, out of the way. Let's face it, it'd remained undisturbed for over a thousand years at that point. What were the chances anyone would come find it? So they left it out there. Apparently, at some point, they planned to return and empty it of weaponry. See if they could use the technology to advance our own military. But obviously, the Defiant got there before they could get around to it. A good thing too. We don't have a good record when it comes to using Namar technology."
*
Jessica shifted in her seat. "So what became of the specimens?"
"They lived. At least at first. I was brought on as a consultant to Project Prometheus some months later, at which point the Namar had been killed and dissected," Kingston said.
"And Kerrick was in charge of Project Prometheus?"
Kingston nodded. "Professor Dajani ran the project itself. Kerrick oversaw Dajani to ensure he was doing what needed to be done. It was Kerrick who suggested me to Dajani."
"And what was your work there? What did you do?"
"I was tasked with breaking their genome. It took months of work. The most complex genetic code I've ever encountered. But we managed it."
"What was the lure?" Jessica asked.
Kingston folded her arms. "The Namar were ahead of the game in many areas. One of which was the embellishment of the organic with technological advancements. A meld of natural and artificial. It's long been thought that humanity will, eventually, make such adaptations ourselves. We'll have to. So there was lots to learn from them. That, and they were seen as the perfect template for future soldiers. At that point, the Draxx war was still ongoing. And with no end in sight."
"The greater good . . ." Jessica said with a shake of her head.
"I'm not proud. Not one bit. But we did as we were told. The same as you," Kingston said.
"It's easy to see why Cessqa is so angry. Why she wants to destroy us. She wages war against us, because we gave the first shot."
"True enough," Kingston said. "But at the time, it was to serve another purpose. It was to give us whatever edge we could get. Unfortunately, it soon got out of hand. Dajani was tasked with blending human and Namar DNA. That was all Kerrick's plan, though I feel he too answered to someone higher up. They sent the hybrids to different locales to be nurtured, trained, tested. Through the use of incubation chambers they were able to shorten the length of time it would take for them to reach adulthood to a mere nine years. Anyway, later on, the war ended and there was no point in continuing. But Kerrick wouldn't stop the project. It was at that point I left."
"What happened?"
51.
"I went to see him. Walked straight into his office and gave my argument that if the war had ended, why the hell were we continuing to develop a breed of soldier that was ethically and morally questionable, at best. He merely looked at me, waited for me to finish ranting, then cleared his throat.
"I waited for him to start shouting, but it didn't happen. He looked calm, passive. He said, 'What would you like me to do? Terminate our hybrids?' I have to admit, he had me there. I'd not thought about what would happen to the soldiers we'd already created. So I told him we could find a remote location and allow them to colonise it. Call it an extension of the project.
"He wasn't having any of it. He got up, wandered back and forth in front of me, arms folded. Talking calm as a cucumber. 'All this time, and you want me just to stop the project. I'm afraid I live in the real world, Doctor Kingston. This war has ended, but one day there will be another. And we'll need our new, improved army of fighters. Project Prometheus will continue with or without your help.'
"I didn't know what to say. I asked him if he was kicking me off the project, and he simply shrugged and said, 'Take it to mean whatever you like.' So I left. Contacted a few friends I had in the science division, and got assigned as head of this facility. I vowed to do some good. To reverse the devastation wreaked by the Sun Hammer all those years ago, and the affront to mother nature we'd developed through Project Prometheus. That's why I started work on Renewal. I never heard from either Kerrick or Dajani again."
52.
She concluded her reverie then watched as Jessica got up. "Where are you going?"
"I have to think," Jessica said, hand to her mouth.
So, it was Kerrick all along. The whole reason for Grimshaw's new appointment elsewhere, most probably. To stop their investigation. They shouldn't have been assigned to the Enigma in the first place, but because the operation had been so top secret, Clarke and Grimshaw simply weren't aware of the Union having dealings with the Enigma prior to the Defiant's assignment.
It all made sense now.
"What will you do?" Kingston asked.
Jessica turned around. "Can I use your communication relay?"
"Of course, this way," her Mother said. She led her from the room.
*
Admiral Grimshaw rubbed his eyes as he shuffled to his own personal communication station. The beeper continued to drill in his brain. The alert sign flashed up on the screen, winking in and out.
INCOMING TRANSMISSION, it read. Grimshaw authorised the connection.
"Admiral?" Jessica asked. He hadn't expected to find himself looking straight at her again. Not so soon, and not at such a late hour either.
"Jessica . . . I hope this is good. It's the middle of the night here."
"Oh. Sorry sir. I thought you'd want to know we have discovered the culprit behind Project Prometheus, and our own current predicament. It's none other than Admiral Kerrick himself."
"I'd like to say this comes as a surprise, Captain King . . . but it only confirms my suspicions. I have a good instinct for things like this, and I smelled a rat the moment Kerrick was assigned to replace me," Grimshaw told her. "But what proof do you have?"
"Doctor Kingston is willing to put herself forward as an expert witness into the events surrounding the first clandestine mission to the Enigma," Jessica said. She glanced to the side, registering Kingston's shocked expression.
"Good news," Grimshaw said. "I will head to Station 6 immediately to arrest Kerrick myself. Please ensure you get a recorded statement from Kingston, detailing specifically Kerrick's role in all of this. I want it to be airtight."
"I will sir."
*
Across the gulfs of space, Grimshaw smiled at her. "Good work, Captain. You've done me proud. Rest assured I will see that all charges against yourself, and your crew, are squashed. In fact, I will demand an official commendation for your efforts. You've done me proud, kid. I know if your Father were still here . . ."
Jessica looked down. Suddenly her eyes felt as if they might fill with tears. "Thank you Admiral."
He cut the signal from his end. Jessica moved away from the console. To her complete surprise, she felt Kingston's hand on her shoulder. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," Jessica said.
"I'm sure Andrew would have been very proud of you," the Doctor said. "I cannot tell you how much I regret not being a part of your life. I hope it's something you'll let me rectify from now on. Because I do want to be in your life, Jessica. If you'll let me."
She looked up at her Mother. The tears were there now. She moved in, embraced her, felt it all gush out. They stood holding each other like that for what seemed the longest of moments.
Kingston chuckled through her own tears. "I take it this is a yes then?"
Jessica nodded. They parted, she had a little laugh of her own as she dried her eyes. "By the way, I know you didn't say beforehand, but I need you to do this."
"I know," Kingston said. "I was a little surprised you offered me up as a witness, but what the hell. The man should answer for his actions, correct? There's no way I could deny my daughter this, when it obviously means so much."
"Thank you again," Jessica said. "And you're right, it does mean a lot. I came here angry. Bitter. Wondering how my life could've got turned upside down like it. But now, it feels like something's fallen into place. A part of me that seemed incomplete for so, so long."
"Don't mention it."
"Anyway, what am I going to call you?"
Kingston chuckled. "What d'you mean?"
"Do I call you Mother, Doctor . . . what?" Jessica asked.
Her Mother studied her for a moment. "Call me Ivy."
"Ivy. That's an old name," Jessica said.
"So's yours."
The door burst open. Doctor Caise stormed in, followed by both Hawk and Gentry, with two other staff members behind them. The two at the rear both held weapons.
"What is this?" Kingston demanded.
"We found these two wandering about Testing Bay Three," Caise said. "I told them to stay put, but they obviously didn't listen to a word I said."
"We did nothing of the sort. Treating us as if we are sneak thieves." Gentry snapped.
Kingston stepped forward, put a hand on Gentry's shoulder as she addressed Caise. "I've known this man a long while. I can assure you, he's not the type. I'm sure all of this is completely innocent."
Hawk turned to Jessica. "Cap, seriously, you gotta see what's in there. It'll blow yer mind," he said.
"What's he going on about?" Jessica asked Kingston.
"Come on, I'll show you. I've had enough of keeping secrets."
53.
They followed Kingston as she led them through the facility.
"Believe me, Doctor, I had no intentions of letting them see Project Renewal intentionally," Caise said, still furious that he'd been betrayed. "I gave them strict instructions to stay put."
"Oh will you quit it, Doc?" Hawk snapped. "I thought you were cool. But yer not."
"No he is not," Gentry piped in, the first thing he'd said since they were put under arrest. "The man is a dullard."
"I am beyond offended!" Caise yelled.
Kingston turned to him. "Doctor I want you to go and make yourself a pot of tea. And I want you to sit down and drink that tea. Don't come back to me until you've finished the whole pot. Then, I trust, you will be suitably calmed."
"But –"
She waved him away. "Go."
Hawk nodded at Caise as he rushed past in a blur. The Doctor merely ignored him.
"Right. Now that's out of the way, let's get on," Kingston said.
She took them toward a large blast door. It had TB-3 printed on it in big, thick, black stencilling.
"What is this? Are you working on more weapons?" Jessica asked, not able to keep the disappointment out of her voice.
"No," her Mother said. "Not quite." She pressed a button to the side and the door began to rise up into the ceiling.
Hawk nudged Jessica in the side. "Wait till ya see this."
The blast door lifted fully, and she beheld what was on the other side. Nothing she could think to say would've done it justice. So she simply drew a deep breath and stepped through . . .
PART V
Vengeance and Renewal
54.
. . . into a kind of paradise. A cavern cut deep into the mountain under whose shadow the building rested. It went back for who knew how long, and was impossibly tall. So tall Jessica found it nigh impossible to determine just where the ceiling of the cavern lay.
Sunlight filtered through from somewhere. Perhaps some kind of artificial sun, she thought. Has to be. The sun of this world is far too weak and pale.
The cavern was filled with a glorious, warm glow. Everywhere she looked, there was the greenery of life. Flora
sprouting from every available inch of space, striving to reach where the sunlight, high up in the roof of the cavern.
"What is this?"
"A garden," Kingston said. "A little Eden, if you will."
"How did you do this? Terraforming?" Gentry asked.
Kingston nodded. "Of a fashion. I learned that the same principles behind the Sun Hammer, when reversed, made it possible to terraform on a huge scale. We found this natural cavity within the mountain early on, when constructing the facility. In fact it's the reason we chose this spot in particular. There are several smaller spaces, but this was the biggest. It was perfect to test Project Renewal."
"So how does it work, exactly?" Jessica asked.
"We pumped the area with atmosphere, and the basic elements needed to create all of this. Then we detonated the Renewal device. The reaction reorganised all of the matter inside this chamber into the patterns and forms we'd chosen beforehand. Within hours, it was like this. I'll admit it's all a lot more complicated than that, but you get the picture. I like to call it 'terraforming on an industrial level.'"
"I can see how that'd be true," Jessica said.
"Incredible. So you could use this device on a desolate moon? Or perhaps an asteroid?" Gentry asked.
Kingston shook her head. "Wherever it's used must have a breathable atmosphere, and the right conditions to support this kind of plant life. Obviously the intention is terraform for human habitation."
Or occupation, Jessica thought. She says this is the reverse of the Sun Hammer and I'm inclined to agree. This truly is renewal. Eden. But . . . what if it were used on a populated planet? What then? We drop it on an alien world, terraform it to our own design, then move in? Habitation. Occupation. Isn't it all the same?
"Blew my goddamn mind," Hawk said.
Jessica looked around. Breathed in the air. Despite her private misgivings, it was hard to deny the spiritual power of the place. Standing there, surrounded by so much of nature's best. Feeling the warm sun on her face, the scent of a hundred thousand flowers . . . it was hard to deny Kingston's assertion of it being a little piece of paradise. "Yeah it sure is something," she said, really meaning it.
Now it was her turn to feel proud, this time for Kingston. She'd turned things around. Made a weapon capable of atrocity into something that could be used for some good. It would give a once-fallen planet another chance, another shot at life.
Wasn't that what human beings often craved, too? One more chance to turn things around for the better? To forget the shadows of yesterday and walk into the sunshine?
Maybe this was it. Maybe, she thought as she watched her Mother walk among the plants, her fingertips trailing through leaves and tall grasses. Maybe this is the kind of renewal I wanted for myself. I felt tired. Pegged in. But now I feel as if something's changed. Tomorrow is filled with possibilities.
She plucked a big pink flower off a stem, lifted it to her nose, breathed its deep, powerful scent with closed eyes.
Renewal.
It felt good.
55.
Kerrick waited for the comm. unit to connect, then sat to attention.
"Admiral."
"Mister Vice President," he said. "It's an honour as always."
The man on the other side was unmoved by the pleasantries. "Get on with it."
He swallowed. "I have intercepted Grimshaw's transmissions. He was contacted from a small planet in the Kaseem Ring. I've sent a ship to investigate. We believe it originated from a research facility on the planet Zac'u."
"I hope I do not have to press upon you the importance of containing this situation, Admiral," the VP snarled. "I grow weary of your ineptitude in this area."
"I know sir, and I can assure you everything that can be done, will be," Kerrick assured him.
"Take whatever measure you feel necessary," the VP told him. "You know what to do. Report back to me in six hours with an update."
Then he was gone. Kerrick rubbed his temples. The head storm was building nicely. A thundercloud over his brain, growing darker with every passing minute.
Grimshaw and his fellow conspirators would have to be made an example of. He scrolled through his contacts on the comm. unit, then hit CONNECT when he found the individual he was looking for.
The chance to turn back, to change his mind, had been and gone years before. His own path in the VP's plans was locked in. He simply had to follow the script, do what had to be done. Even if it meant further headaches.
56.
Admiral Grimshaw hurried through the departure lounge. "Come on, come on," he snapped at the clerk. "You've got the paperwork. I don't see what's holding this up. I'll miss the departure."
"Sir, we're going as fast as we can. The main system is down, and –"
He pushed his way past her. "I don't have time for this."
"Admiral, we have to –" she called after him.
The guards did not attempt to stop Grimshaw from boarding the outbound flight to Station 6. They simply turned the other cheek, made as if they'd not see him do what he did. Sometimes, exceptions are made for superiors, Grimshaw thought. And sometimes that extends to corruption.
He found his seat, settled in with a huff, then turned to survey the rest of the passenger cabin. There were only a few other travellers there. Good. He would not have to endure a cramped flight full of coughing, wheezing people of every different race, species, colour, and creed. It would be a relaxing journey.
Or rather, it should be. But he knew different; he knew that his mind would not let him rest until he got there, several hours from then. He'd be on fire till he slapped Kerrick in irons and had him stowed away in the detainment cells.
He smiled at the thought.
I never liked the git anyway, he thought. Then he chuckled to himself.
"Flight Oh-One-One-Three-Eight departing," the stewards voice said over the speakers. "Please remain seated until further notice. Refreshments will be served shortly."
She then ran through the basic procedures. He'd heard them a thousand times before. If not more. It was all very simple. If something happened that was catastrophic, they were dead. Simple as that. No way around it. A face mask connected to a canister of O2 wouldn't stop an errant asteroid from killing them all.
The sleek vessel disconnected from the side of the station and with barely a hint of thrust they were on their way.
That was when he noticed the briefcase. It sat on an empty chair, the other side of the aisle. Unattended, placed neatly in the middle of the seat as if it, itself, were a passenger. Grimshaw looked left and right to see if anyone would come to claim it. For several minutes he waited, and when no-one did, he got up and walked over to it. He looked around.
"Is this anyone's briefcase?"
All he got in response was a series of shaking heads, or quizzical faces now turned to watch his every move. He looked back down at the case, felt his heart begin to thump in his ears.
"Sir? Please take your seat," the steward said, appearing from behind a curtain.
"Whose briefcase is this?"
She frowned down at it. "Oh I'm not sure. It's not yours?"
"Would I really be asking you that if it were? Come on, who owns this case?"
The steward asked the other passengers one by one. She came back to him.
"None of them know anything about it."
He carefully picked it up off of the seat. There was a faint sound. Something he'd heard before, in the past. A whisper. He put the briefcase up against his ear, heard the muted workings of the mechanisms inside and realised with sudden horror just what it was he held in his hand.
"Where are the escape pods?"
The steward had an expression of complete horror on her face. She didn't answer him. He snapped his fingers in her face.
"The pods! Where are they?"
"At the rear," she croaked. "We have two."
He moved as fast as he was able, sweat trickling down his forehead as the implication of what he held in his hand dawned on him. He had to get to one of the pods. Put it inside. Get it off the ship. Get it off before –
*
Only moments out of dock, flight 01138 burst apart in a blinding flash that made for a spectacular, if short lived, supernova that dimmed the very light of the stars themselves. Then it was gone, and with it, its precious human cargo. Consigned to the void, back to stardust . . . all that it was just glitter in the black.
57.
"I'd better get back to the ship," Jessica said as they neared the entrance to the facility. The shuttle awaited them outside, now covered in a fine film of dust.
"Perhaps for the best. There's a strong storm on its way by the looks of things," Kingston said.
"I'll go get the ship ready," Hawk said, dragging Gentry along with him.
"Most pleasurable to make your acquaintance again," the Doctor said on his way out the door.
"And to you, too, Wilf," Kingston said. She gave him a wave then looked back at Jessica. "You know, he never changes. The same nut he always was."
"He's definitely one of a kind, I'll give him that," Jessica said. "So, I guess this is goodbye for the moment. I'm not sure how this will play out now. I'd imagine the Admiral will want to arrest Kerrick first before he does anything official. We'll remain in orbit regardless. You might even see us, if it's a clear evening."
Her Mother held out her hands. Jessica took them, and it occurred to her for the first time to wonder if they shared the same hands. She looked down. Yes, there was a resemblance. Her Mother gave her fingers a firm squeeze. "I'll look for you."
Jessica smiled. "Bye."
"Bye Jess."
58.
The shuttle settled on the hangar deck, the servos whining as they balanced its weight to keep it level. The great hangar doors closed and the shuttle's occupants waited while atmosphere flooded the bay.
"So, what now?" Hawk asked.
Jessica sighed. "I'm not sure. That's the truth. All I can do is wait on Admiral Grimshaw, see what happens with Kerrick. Until then, I think we should stay here, protect Doctor Kingston at all costs. She's the one witness whose testimony will see that man behind bars for good."
Gentry cleared his throat behind her. "War. That's what all of this boils down to."
"What do you mean?"
"Their business is war, dear Captain. So when the war with the Draxx ended, they started looking for the next enemy. Now they have it. The Namarians. It's all in the service of keeping war – wherever it is and whomever it is with – going. Keep the machine they're all so very used to from stopping for good," the Doctor said.
"I daresay you're right," Jessica said. "There must be quite a few who were secretly saddened by the end of the Draxx war. I can honestly say, however, I myself was not one of them."
"No, no, I do not believe you were, anyway. I was just speaking my mind, is all," Gentry said.
"Kerrick must be the architect of this. Turning a long-forgotten race into the latest 'Union's Most Wanted.'"
"Quite true," Gentry said. "Or perhaps he too has a Master. Someone holding the puppet strings."
"But who?"
"Captain, if I knew that . . ."
She waved a hand at him. "I know I know. Dumb comment, yes?" The green light flashed from inside and the door opened, lowering a short ramp to the hangar deck plating. Jessica hardly gave it enough time to settle before she'd walked down it and off, away, toward the rest of the ship.
*
"Captain!" Chang bounded forward the moment Jessica stepped through the doors of the Defiant's Command Deck. "We've got a situation."
"Calm yourself, Commander. Slow down," Jessica said sternly. She looked around. "What's the problem?"
Chang took a deep breath. "Something you should hear."
She gave Rayne the nod, and a pre-recorded message began to play on the overhead speakers.
"This is an official statement from the office of the Vice President," it began. Jessica found the nearest seat and settled into it. "We have just received word that one of our biggest talents, Admiral Grimshaw, was killed less than two hours ago. While the investigation is in full swing to ascertain precisely what happened, we do have several key facts. All of which points to the culprit behind the death of one of our own officers."
He paused for effect.
"Captain Jessica King, currently wanted for theft of Union property and treason, is believed to be the terrorist behind the Admiral's death. She and her co-conspirators will be found and punished to the full extent of the law. So I ask you all now. Whatever information you have, however small, please come forward. Help us to protect the Union and its citizens by apprehending criminal Captain Jessica King and her crew . . ."
"That's enough. Shut it off," she said weakly. Suddenly it felt as though all the strength had drained out of her. Jessica looked down at the floor.
Complete silence surrounded her.
Admiral Grimshaw . . . killed? It didn't seem possible. Her ally, on his way to arrest a corrupt influence within the Terran Defence Force itself. Killed. Murdered, most probably.
And now she'd been framed for his death? It was the ultimate betrayal.
But one thing occurred to her, as cloudy as her mind was in that moment. Now she knew the puppeteer pulling all Kerrick's strings. The Vice President himself.
"Captain, what're we going to do?"
Good question, Banks, Jessica thought. Our only ally is gone. Kerrick and the VP have framed us for Grimshaw's murder, coloured us as reckless saboteurs and assassins. What do we do?
"I need to think. Clear the room," she said, pacing. "Give me a moment."
They all filed out to give her some space. She waited for the door to close behind them before looking up at the viewscreen display. Their side of the planet turned toward sunset now. The storm was in full swing, directly over the facility. Blasting it, she knew, with enough sand to bury any ship to the point it'd never fly again.
Jessica closed her eyes. Tried to think.
I don't have long, she thought. I don't have long at all.
*
They waited for her to speak, their expectation hanging on what she might tell them, their hope for what was to come depending on whatever she decided.
"I run," she said. "We stick with the plan. You tell them I tricked you into coming, and then I deceived you. I stole a ship and left. You have no idea where I went."
"Captain, there's got to be another way," Chang said.
"Yeah, come on, we gotta think of somethin' else," Hawk agreed. "Ya'll be hunted one side of the galaxy to the other."
"I've made my decision. We knew it would go something like this. I didn't expect the Admiral to be killed, that's for sure. And I didn't think, not in a million years, that it would be me put on offer for his death, either. But, this is what's happened. I have to deal with it. As for the rest of you, however . . . you do not."
The Chief stepped close. "All due respect, but yes we do. I'm coming with you."
"Chief . . ."
"We stand together."
"It's all very good, but it might mean death," Jessica warned. "If we're caught, they will do everything they can to push for a public execution. Mark my words."
"That's not happened in two hundred years," Gentry said.
Jessica's eyebrow rose. "Well Doctor, there's always a chance to make exceptions. Especially for the galaxy's most wanted woman."
"What will you do?"
"Attempt to clear my name, set everything right. Clear the Union of corruption. Show others that our leaders are not putting the people of the Union first, but the Union itself before anyone. Pushing forward a new war, setting free a new enemy into known space and manufacturing a new kind of soldier to fight their new war for them," she said, shaking her head. "Grimshaw didn't agree with it. If Del were still here, he wouldn't agree with it either. I must show Kerrick for what he is. Make him answer for causing all of this."
"So who stays and who goes?" Banks asked.
"Commander," Jessica said to Chang. "You are staying here. And you Olivia. I guess the same goes for you, Doctor Gentry and Doctor Clayton."
"I'd gladly go with you, Jess," Clayton said. "You know that."
She smiled at him. "I know, Doctor. And I'd gladly have you with me. But you'll be more help this side of things."
"Please let me go," Gentry said. "I'm up for an adventure."
She couldn't help but laugh. "Doctor Gentry, you never cease to amaze me. But no, I'm sorry. I could still use someone with their finger on the pulse. Someone who can provide me with accurate, reliable data if I need it. I hope you both understand this."
"Yes," Clayton said. "Of course."
"I guess . . ." Gentry said, looking away, visibly upset.
"Ya know we'll be comin'," Hawk said, his arm around Selena.
"Wouldn't miss it for the world. I've always liked the idea of an outlaw lifestyle," Selena said.
"Okay. What about you, Eisenhower? I'll leave the decision in your hands," Jessica said.
He sighed. "If I were twenty years younger, I would. But now? I don't know I'd be much use."
She stepped forward, took him by the shoulders, planted a kiss on his cheek. The Master At Arms blushed, cherry red.
"Bless you," she said, a wide grin on her face.
"Well if I'd know there'd be kissing . . ." Eisenhower quipped. They all burst into laughter, Jessica among them. It seemed bittersweet to have them there, one last time, and be able to say goodbye to those she might never see again.
"How about you, kid?" Hawk asked Banks.
The helmsman chewed his lip as he considered.
"The decision is yours," Jessica told him. "If you stay, you will have a bright future ahead of you, I know it. Don't turn your back on a good thing."
He looked at her, eyes wet. "Captain, it's been an honour. But I can't walk away. I think I have to stay. I'm sorry."
"Don't be, Kyle. You'll make Captain yourself on day, mark my words. Don't ever regret doing what you thought was right. We each have different paths," she said. "This is mine. The Chief, Hawk, and Selena are going to walk the same path. The rest of you will take another. But perhaps . . . just perhaps . . . though we walk a different route, we're still headed the same way. And I take that to mean that one day our paths will cross, will bring us back together. It's that hope I'll hold onto. It's that hope that will keep me going."
"I wish it were different, Captain," Chang said.
"So do I," Jessica said. "So do I."
59.
"You know, it's weird. I came on this mission to get some kind of vengeance," Meryl said as they walked along the corridor together. "And yet it's not so black and white as I thought it'd be."
"No, you're right. But don't think we won't make Cessqa pay for what she did to Del, Chief. She will, one day. But for now, we have to deal with the corruption that let all of this happen. In fact, the corruption that manipulated it into happening," she said. "Kerrick and the Vice President hold as much of the blame for Del's death as Cessqa does."
"I know," Meryl said bitterly.
They reached Jessica's quarters. "I'm going to grab some things. I suggest you do the same. Unfortunately I've had to leave a lot on the station. Anyway, meet you in the hangar bay in, say, fifteen minutes or so?"
"Sure," the Chief gave her arm a gentle pat, then left her to get her things. Jessica walked into her quarters and packed as many civilian clothes as she could into a carryall.
She pushed her uniform tunics to one side, her eyes alighting on the one with Del's bloody handprint across it.
I shouldn't take this, she thought. It needs to be left.
She scooped up the few pictures she had in frames, data tablets, several bottles of booze that had been gifts. One of them from Del. She stopped, held the bottle in her hand, looked down fondly at it. She remembered when he'd given it to her. It made her chest ache.
"Memories," she whispered, surveying the quarters that she had called home for a long time. "Dust on the wind."
She packed the bottle, checked around for anything she might have missed. There was nothing overly sentimental she thought she should take along with her. Jessica made to leave, then stopped at the threshold. She turned back, dropped her bag on the floor, walked to the bed. She got down on her hands and knees and felt around beneath the frame. Her hands found the book she'd stowed there and she pulled it out, regarding the cover.
She remembered the day Singh had given it to her as a birthday present.
"What's this?" she asked.
"A present. Isn't it your birthday?" Singh asked.
She took the gift from him, started to open the wrapping. "You shouldn't have."
"Well, I have, so just open it," he said with a smile.
She pulled it out. A book. "Great Expectations by Charles Dickens," she said, looking it over. "You know, I don't believe I've read it."
"It's a classic. Hard to find these days, actually."
"What's it about?"
Singh smiled. "It's about many things, Jessica. You'll find out just what when you read it. But overall, the book is about how life lives up to your expectations of it. Not everything works out the way you thought it would. That's life."
She laughed. "It all sounds pretty deep."
"Well," he said with a shrug. "It's not really. I have to confess that I bought it more as a reminder than a book."
"A reminder?" she asked. "A reminder of what?"
"That although things sometimes don't pan out the way you wanted them to, always appreciate what you have. Make the most of it. Life . . . it goes so fast. The worst you could do is be unappreciative of having your orbit of this life. Whatever comes, know that it was always out of your hands. Fate had other plans. You simply went along for the ride and did your best, regardless of your expectations."
Jessica stroked the front of the book cover with her thumb. Several tears splashed down its front, and she wiped them away. She looked up, tried to fight it all back. It was time to leave. Time to move on. Earlier that day she'd seen a change in the weather. Something about to happen. Something beyond her control.
"Time to go along for the ride," she whispered on her way out the door.
*
They filed into the Captain's yacht one by one, bidding farewell to those staying behind as they went. Jessica entered the craft last. She hugged each one of them in turn, coming to Commander Chang last.
"Well this is goodbye," she said and drew her in for a strong embrace.
"Good luck Captain, it's been an honour," Chang said. "How long shall I leave it until I call you in?"
"Give me an hour. Then tell Kerrick what happened here."
The Chief appeared back in the doorway again. "Sorry, I almost forgot. Chang, do me a favour will you?"
"Anything," Chang said.
"Tell Belcher and the others that I'm sorry. And that I'll miss them, even if they're the dirtiest, smelliest bunch of engineers I've ever had the misfortune of working with," she said with a grin.
"I will, Chief," Chang said.
Clayton came up the line. "Jess, about before . . ."
"Old history," Jessica said. "Forget it, Doctor. I have. Thanks for everything. I always appreciated it."
"Find a way of staying in touch," he told her. "I mean it."
She saluted him. "Yes sir."
With one final glance back at Commander Chang, Ensign Rayne, Kyle Banks, Dr Gentry, Dr Clayton, and Eisenhower, Jessica went inside and hit the door controls. The ramp receded into the ship, the door slid down and she stood there staring at nothing. "Goodbye," she whispered.
60.
Kingston waded out into the storm, wrapped in heavy clothing, her face covered by a fine mesh that protected her from the dust and silicate swirling about on the wind.
Jessica stood within the open hatch of the yacht, her eyes narrowed against what was attempting to blow inside. Kingston carried two bags, and she moved hurriedly up the ramp. The moment she was inside, Jessica closed the hatch again.
Her mother removed the mesh around her face.
"Told you the storms were bad."
"I believe you now," Jessica said. "Did you leave the message I gave you?"
Upon arriving back there, Jessica had gone back inside the facility along with Hawk. There she'd explained to Kingston everything that had happened. And she'd left a data tablet containing a lengthy message, should the right person come looking for her.
"Yes. It's with Caise," she said.
"Him? Is he the right choice?"
"Believe me, he may be soft, but he's the most trustworthy person I've ever known. I'm confident he'll do the right thing," Kingston assured her.
"Good. I'll trust your judgement."
"Mother knows best, Jessica," Kingston said. She picked up her bags and brushed past, a half smile on her lips.
"Sure," Jessica said.
61.
They watched the captain's yacht rise through the darkening atmosphere of Zac'u, headed back into space.
"This will be our last farewell," Jessica said over the comm.
"I wish it weren't Captain," Chang said.
"There is no other way," Jessica said. "And I'm not the Captain anymore, Lisa. You are."
Lisa shook her head, though Jessica could not see it. "You'll always be my Captain."
Silence for a moment, then, "I have left a message at the facility. Should anyone friendly come asking. It's in the hands of Doctor Caise there. Please remember that."
"That codfish." Gentry remarked at the rear of the room.
Chang ignored him. "I will. Good luck."
"Thanks," Jessica said. "We'll need it."
62.
Hawk turned around in the pilot's seat. "So, uh . . . where we goin' exactly?"
"Off the grid," Jessica said.
"So . . ."
She swallowed. "There's a planet called Steria. You'll find it in the nav system records. It was never settled properly, though there was a brief attempt at a colony for a time before the place was abandoned."
"Abandoned? Why?" Selena Walker asked.
"It was too extreme. Steria is quite unique, in that while it has a breathable atmosphere, one side of the planet is forever covered in shadow, the other baked by the sun. It is literally a world of night and day. The colony was somewhere in the middle. 'Twilight Town' or something. That's what they called it. But it never worked out," Jessica explained.
"So I guess there's huts, and the like, all just sittin' there," Hawk said.
She nodded. "Exactly. No-one will think to look for us there."
"Sounds good to me," he said, returning to the helm console to input their destination.
They passed by the Defiant. Jessica watched from a nearby viewport as she slid past. "Will we ever see her again?" she asked quietly.
No-one offered an answer – for there was none to give. Suddenly everything seemed so uncertain, so up in the air. Jessica felt a single tear break free, roll down her cheek. She wiped it away quickly, before anyone could notice.
Goodbye, she thought. Then their little ship went to Jump and the Defiant was gone.
Jessica felt a hand on her shoulder. It was Dr. Kingston. She turned to look at her. Her Mother offered her a smile. Jess reached up and patted Kingston's hand. Then she went back to looking out the viewport, at the colours of infinity as they flashed past.
Would any of it be as it once was, when all was said and done? When the dust settled . . . what would be left for them all?
*
The yacht went to Jump.
Gone.
Commander Chang turned to Rayne. "Contact Admiral Kerrick."
"This sure does feel strange," Olivia said as she keyed it into her console. "Reporting them in like this. It's like we're betraying them."
"I know, but it has to be done. These are the Captain's orders and I'll follow them to the letter," Chang said.
Her whole mouth was dry.
"Making contact now," Rayne said. She held the earpiece in, looked up and locked eyes with her partner. "No going back."
Chang shook her head slowly. "No going back," she whispered in return.
As Rayne spoke, she turned to look at the viewscreen, at the empty spot of space where the captain's yacht had been previously. She felt a presence by her side and looked to see Dr. Clayton standing there, hands clasped behind his back.
"She'll do all right," he said.
"You seem certain of that," Chang said.
"No, not certain," he said. "Just hopeful that she'll get the job done. Set everything right."
The stars outside now seemed immeasurably distant. As if no-one could possibly reach such far off points of light.
"Whatever happens, wherever she ends up . . . I'll be waiting for her call," Chang said.
"We all will," Clayton said. "And it'll come, Commander. If know her at all, it's that she'll see this through to the end. Whatever it takes . . ."
Afterword
At the end of the original serial, I decided there were still stories I wanted to tell in the Far From Home universe, involving Jessica and her crew. So I set Enigma 12 months later, following a year of exploration, to see where they'd come. Straight away I had no wish to write the continuing adventures of the Defiant as an episodic serial. I wanted to make them novel length adventures, so that's what I did with Enigma and the two subsequent sequels, Nemesis and Vengeance.
So Far From Home: The Complete Second Series consists of three novels. They tell one big story, and setup the events of Series Three, which will consist of the novella Spectre, and three final novels, Exile, Conflict and Legacy.
At the time of this writing, Far From Home: The Complete First Series has had just under 200 reviews on amazon.com. Some of them good, some of them not so good. Regardless, the series continues to find new readers all over the world. It goes from strength to strength. Through interacting with me in emails, posts on my Facebook page, tweeting me on twitter and writing on my site, readers have not stopped telling me how much they enjoy reading the Far From Home books.
Well, here's to Series Three. If you've followed the story thus far, you're in for a shocker. Spectre will tell the story of Captain Rick Shaw and their investigation of Project Prometheus. Then the main story continues. But not in the way you think it will, trust me. As I write this, I wonder if I take a risk doing what I'm going to do in Series Three. But I've tried my very best to keep things fresh all the way. To try new things, shake the characters up, keep everything moving.
Well now we will see. In my notepad I have the outlines for Exile, Conflict and Legacy. And glancing over them, I think they're going to be the best Far From Home books yet.
As always, dear readers, I'll see you on the other side of the black hole.
TH – May 2014
THE ADVENTURE
CONTINUES
WITH
Spectre: A Far From Home Novel
About Tony Healey
Tony Healey is a best-selling independent author. Born in 1985, he has lived his entire life in the city of Brighton, UK.
In 2011, he found his fiction published alongside Harlan Ellison and Alan Dean Foster. A year later, his sci-fi serial FAR FROM HOME became a best-selling sensation, followed by similarly successful sequels. Since then he has collaborated with authors Bernard Schaffer, Matthew Cox and William Vitka on various projects. He has also had work published by Curiosity Quills Press. He is married and has three daughters.
For the latest on Tony's various projects, visit his site www.tonyhealey.com
THE STARS MY REDEMPTION
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Abe has spent his entire life among the cold, hard swirl of the stars. He's been a bounty hunter, an assassin, a pirate, a drug runner. He has a talent for unsavoury occupations. Now an opportunity for change falls at his feet, and Abe must decide whether to continue living the life of a rogue or embrace the prospect of redemption . . .
Praise for THE STARS MY REDEMPTION
". . . loads of fun, reads at a blistering pace. Abe's a galactic criminal who wanders from score to score leaving a bloody trail of human and alien carcasses, but there's a stubborn crumb of humanity left inside of him. This is the story of how he rediscovers that lost part of himself. The action sequences remind me of Robert E. Howard. Abe would fit in well with Conan the Barbarian and Solomon Kane."
"The story grabs you right from the outset. It is fast paced and enjoyable. It is written in the style of Star Trek/Star Wars that lets you feel for the characters without getting swamped with the technology . . . was well worth reading."
"Story telling that is compelling and ultra-readable. Don't expect to sleep till you have finished this book. Be ready to be addicted."
FAR FROM HOME: VOLUME I
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The first three instalments in the smash hit FAR FROM HOME series, collected into one volume. Serves as a great entry point to the series."
Praise for the FAR FROM HOME series
"There are so many characters and story lines to be pursued! I also LOVE that the author included so many strong female main roles and leaders. That is the future after all, equality! It's an excellent read and I strongly recommend the series in the 3 book volume forms because you will always want more! It's all good in the space neighborhood."
"Fun to read. Far from Home would make an excellent TV series or mini-series special. The stories by Tony Healey, I've so far read, have what I refer to as 'soul' in them, being more than just words on paper or in ebooks."
"An excellent book, Enjoyed it from start to finish. LOOKING FORWARD TO READING THE REST OF THIS SERIES. You go! TONY HEALEY!"
". . . very easy to get into and it pulls you in so you don't want to stop reading. If you enjoy Star Trek and other science fiction adventures you'll enjoy this great adventure with Jessica and her crew. You'll never want to put it down . . . trust me."
"As a former nuclear submarine officer in the US Navy, I was immediately transported back to my time on subs during the cold war years. Since retiring from both the Navy and Navy supporting civilian contractors, I have been reading numerous sci-fi novels. I rank Far From Home as an extremely entertaining story . . . the action makes sense and time travel is possibly believable. THANKS SO MUCH!!!"
"I really enjoyed this book, and am looking forward to the rest of the series. It's great to see a female commander and the action and characters really had a nice balance. Reminded me of some of my favorite sci-fi and that's a good thing! I definitely recommend for fans of Battlestar and Star Trek."
DARK VISIONS
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3 Dark Stories . . .
3 Dark Insights Into Human Nature . . .
3 Dark Visions . . .
In BURIAL, a DARK secret buried out in the woods is let loose . . .
In DARK ORB, the secrets of this life are unearthed from the cold, DARK ground . . .
In ABC, the DARK mystery of a small seaside town is unleashed . . .
Praise for the stories in DARK VISIONS
". . . easily digestible and enjoyable for readers who don't normally tread inside the genre. In fact, it's a quite touching story. It's a piece of well-written fiction that carefully weaves in actual reported events on record from the 1960s. I won't spoil any of that, but for you conspiracy theory chasing cryptozoologists, I'm sure I don't even need to."
". . . a suspenseful thriller written in a style that reminded me a bit of Poe. Healey is quickly assembling an impressive collection of horror stories that hearken back to the days gone by of classic storytelling. He writes with the panache of an author beyond his years. I can't wait to see what he comes up with next."
DEAD PRETTY
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Brighton, 1985--Christmas
'tis the season . . . to die
Clementine is young, beautiful. The wife of a rich businessman. And she wants her husband killed. It's meant to be a simple hit. But when it comes to murder, nothing is ever simple . . .
DEAD PRETTY is the explosive debut of man-for-hire COLBY JONES, written by the author of the best-selling series FAR FROM HOME
Praise for DEAD PRETTY
"Tony Healey has no fear. He's not content to colour inside the lines, and writes compelling stories no matter which genre he selects. Tony is a brilliant Sci-Fi writer, but he can tackle any setting and still command your attention. This novella is the debut of Colby Jones, an anti-hero with traces of a conscience. I like Colby because despite his dealings on the other side of the law, it's not hard to find him relatable. His motives are not unlike an average person. His means to an end are in a grey moral area, but his goals are so earnest that you can't help but cheer him on. All of Tony's work is well-written and enjoyable to read, but this is a good primer for readers that don't like science-fiction. Once you get a feel for Tony's endearing style, you'll want to see how he applies it to other genres."
"This is a damn good first attempt at hardboiled criminal fare. I really enjoyed it . . ."
"Anti-hero Colby Jones is a fella that maybe you should steer well clear of, but you actually find yourself overlooking his 'misdemeanours'. He's your average man, which is why I think you can relate to him, but he's pretty ruthless too. When he takes a job, he sees it through, right to the very end. This was a great read and I really liked the author's writing style. I was pulled in from the first page and proceeded to fly through the book. It's a novella with a good storyline and with lots going on . . ."
More From Tony Healey:
Amazon.com Author Page
Amazon.co.uk Author Page
Smashwords Author Page
Tony Healey on Wattpad
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web: www.tonyhealey.com
email: tonyleehealey@gmail.com
twitter: @fringescientist