Spectre
1.
Captain Rick Shaw looked like death as he slumped on to the bridge.
"Damn, sir, you look like hell," Commander Will Ardai said.
Shaw waved him off. "Just overslept."
"Yeah! Thanks to polishing off that bottle of Naxien Rum last night," Will said. "I did warn you, sir, the stuff's pretty potent . . ."
Captain Shaw sipped his coffee. His good eye was red and sore while the one covered by the eye patch kept its secrets.
"Potent? If I didn't have this meeting, I'd be sleeping in," he said. "Like, for a month."
"Amen to that," Will said.
"Anyway, how come you're not so bad off, eh? You consumed a fair quantity of Naxien nectar yourself, as I recall," Shaw asked.
Will shrugged. "I've never had a problem holding my liquor, sir."
In truth, he was feeling a little worse for wear himself, – though not so much as his commanding officer.
Captain Shaw stiffened, chest puffed out. "I don't know what you're implying, Commander. I have the constitution of an ox," he said with mock bravado.
"Sure . . ." Will said.
A series of beeps issued from the front of the bridge. Kalar's sextet of arms flew in all directions to address the series of warnings flashing across the helm. The Xantian pilot craned his squashed head about to look at them, his one big black eye taking in Shaw's rough appearance.
"Captain, I do declare you look like you've been chewed up and spat out by a Taralian moose."
"What is it, Kay?" Shaw grumbled, shooting Will a look of barely concealed contempt as he walked down to the helm. Up ahead, on the viewscreen, a tiny pinprick of colour grew larger every second against the black backdrop of space.
"We're on final approach to Starbase six," Kalar said. "Should be a few minutes. Co-ordinates locked in."
Shaw set a hand on the Xantian's back. "Good. Give them the usual codes and registries and let me know the minute we're docked, Kay."
The Captain made to leave the bridge. Commander Ardai stood there, hands spread wide before him. "Where are you going now?"
"Have a shower, run a razor over my chin. Make myself respectable," Shaw snapped.
Ardai watched him go. Kalar turned around again. "Cranky today isn't he?"
"Well I don't think your comment helped any," Will said.
"True," Kalar admitted.
"Maybe I shouldn't have got him on that rum last night. But he wanted a drink and it's all I had in my quarters," Will said. "You know what he's like when he's in one of those moods."
"Indeed. Did I hear you say it was Naxien rum?"
Will nodded.
Kalar gave his closest approximation to a laugh. "On Xantia, we give that to the younglings. It makes for a perfect bedtime tonic to soothe them off to sleep. Quite weak."
Will pulled a face at him. "Just keep your eyes – I mean, eye – on the road . . ."
* * *
The Spectre slipped smartly into position and Will watched as Kalar nudged the ship to port until their docking ring had mated with that of Station 6.
"Expertly done there, Lieutenant," Will said. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you've got a bright career ahead of you."
"Always a pleasure," Kalar said. He set about shutting down the ship's systems one by one, his six appendages flicking switches all around him.
"Let me know when you're done. I'll go find the Captain," Will said. "See if he's in the land of the living."
Kalar laughed. "Take an ice pack."
* * *
Ardai walked out into the hall and headed for Shaw's cabin. He rapped his knuckles on the door, and it slid back a second later. The Captain looked a world apart from the man who'd dragged himself onto the bridge only a half hour before. Shaw was nearing fifty, with stark shocks of grey at both temples. He was well built, lithe, but stocky. Scars ran up his forearms from one of the many engagements he'd told Will about, though the Commander couldn't remember exactly which one. Shaw always wore a patch over his left eye – the skipper had lost it in an unfortunate incident on Maino V years before. Will asked him once why he'd not had a prosthetic eye fitted in its place, to which Shaw just scoffed.
"Reminds me of my mistakes. In this instance, to always assume the crash position when I'm told to," he'd said at the time. "I'm of the opinion all scars are lessons well learnt."
That attitude didn't surprise Will. After all, Shaw was a man who loved to gamble, who drank heavily. Who read crumbling copies of books. The classics – the kind of stories that made Shaw, for all his swagger, for all his experience as a fighter, sob like a heartbroken child when he'd had one too many. The night before, in his cabin, Shaw had broken down a little as he told Will about a book he'd just finished. Will had helped him onto his bunk, and he lay there in the dark, tears glistening in his one, red eye.
"I can't help thinking about the end of that novel, William," the Captain had said. Another side effect of him having had a drink was his tendency to refer to Ardai by his full name.
"What novel's that?"
"A Tale of Two Cities," Shaw said. "Have you read it?"
Will shook his head.
The Captain looked up at the ceiling, his gaze distant. "'It's a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known.' What do you suppose it means eh, Commander?"
"I don't have a clue, sir," Will said, wanting to just leave him there, get to his own bunk and try to get his head down. Wanting to evacuate the ship with all hands but leave the Captain behind, still babbling.
"Sort of . . . I don't know, final isn't it?"
"I guess so," Will said. "Anyway, I'll say good-night . . ."
"Will?"
Sigh.
"Yes Captain," he said, becoming agitated now.
"If I . . . you know . . . go, and you're still working with me, make sure they say those words over my casket, won't you?"
"I never refuse an order, sir. Now get some rest."
It wasn't until he lay on his own bunk, his quarters spinning around him in a drunken haze that he thought on Shaw's bouts of melancholy. They came only with drink, as if the booze unlocked a part of him he kept well-hidden most of the time. Something painful and sad inside. Will knew the Captain had money worries – a little too much gambling at the roulette wheel had seen to that – but could that have been the cause for his occasional fractured state?
The line from A Tale of Two Cities did seem final, now that he thought about it. Perhaps it's his own mortality that plagues him, Will thought.
He smiled as the realisation dawned on him. It was entirely possible Rick Shaw, skipper of the Spectre, was going through a midlife crisis.
Well, he thought. If crying for the tragedy of old books is the worst of it, then it's the least of my worries . . .
* * *
"Captain, you look . . . alive. More so than earlier, anyway."
"Reports of my general decay are grossly exaggerated," Shaw quipped. He brushed past his second in command and headed for the airlock. "Are we all set?"
"Kay's locking her down now," Will said, following behind.
"Excellent. What about Punk and Barbie?"
Will was about to answer when two loud voices erupted from the back end of the ship.
"Ah, damnit, is that them, scrapping again?" Shaw asked.
His question was followed by a loud crash and more shouting. Punk stormed up the corridor, face set with a scowl, brushing off his fur. The Alpor looked more than little worse for wear. "Crazy bloody Mantipor! She's lost 'er mind!"
"What was it this time?" Shaw asked.
The Alpor stood no more than four feet high with short black hair all over its body and a snout that resembled that of a large badger. In fact Punk could have been confused for one if it hadn't been for his gun belt, black clothing, and boots, finished off with a red bandana on his head, triangular ears poking up behind it.
"Having one of her soddin' rages again. All I did was move one of those crates. You know, the ones we got off resupply the last time we stopped off. Wanted to have a look an' see if we had any rolls of optic cable. Next thing I know, boof! She's coming at me, shouting her bleedin' mouth off, throwing boxes at me 'ead!"
"Will? Do you want to go down there and have a chat?" Shaw asked his second in command.
"Uh . . . no, not really," the Commander admitted. "She's in-season right now. I daresay it's why she's flying off the handle."
Getting on the wrong side of a Mantipor in heat wasn't exactly at the top of his bucket list.
Punk folded his arms. "I don't know if I can keep up with it, mate. Honest I don't. Might 'ave to get meself a transfer, she carries on."
"I'll talk to her," Will said. Another loud series of crashes and thumps came from the back end of the Spectre. Commander Ardai swallowed. "Later, when she's calmed down."
"Good call," Captain Shaw said. He looked up at the lights over the airlock door, willing them to turn green so he could get off the ship fast as possible. They remained frustratingly red.
"It's not good for me rep, sirs, you know wot I'm talkin' bout, dontchya?"
"We do," Captain Shaw said. "Leave it to us. Maybe we'll have to have her, you know, looked at or something."
Will scoffed. "Yeah, good luck with that one."
"That or find 'er a mate . . ." Punk mused.
Mercifully, the lights over the airlock turned green. "Thank God," Shaw said, swiftly exiting the ship before the conversation could go any further.
"Wot 'bout the rest of us?" Punk asked.
"I'm with the Captain. You three leave the ship and have a wander. But report back. Let's not have this turn into another fiasco like we had on Romycin. Behave yourselves."
"Right you are, mate. I'll, uh, let ole Kalar tell 'er we can leave, though, eh? Think I better steer clear for a couple of hours," Punk said. He headed for the bridge. Will watched him go, shook his head, then followed after the Captain, glad to be out of Barbie's way himself.
2.
"What are we going to do about that bloody Mantipor, Will?" Captain Shaw asked him when he'd caught up. "She gets more hormonal all the time."
"Maybe she really does need to see a doctor," Will said. "It wouldn't be the worst thing in the world."
"I agree. But who'd break that one to her?"
Commander Ardai did not put himself forward for that particular mission. He remained respectfully silent.
"Anyway, I can worry about Barbie later. By the time she's got off the ship, blown some steam, she'll be right as rain. I'm more concerned about this meeting. Me and Grimshaw go way back, but I have a feeling this is going to be a big job."
"Yeah?"
Shaw nodded. "This is only the second time since joining Shadow Force that Grimshaw's asked me to 'help him with something sensitive.' His words. And that particular mission didn't turn out too well for all concerned," he said.
"Really? What was it?"
"Classified. You know how it is. Wait till I'm drunk and I just might tell you. For now, let it be known that I go to this mission with no small amount of trepidation," Captain Shaw said. They arrived at Grimshaw's office. "Commander, did I get a little . . . maudlin last night?"
"Bit," Will lied.
A lot.
"Sorry. You know it's not my style. But I've a lot on my mind lately," Shaw said. "Perhaps I've been hitting the bottle too often. It's not the way to deal with anything."
"No, it's not. You know, sir, you can always–"
Captain Shaw smiled and laid a hand on Will's shoulder. "That I do, kid. Stick around, won't you? I'm hoping this won't take too long."
* * *
Will Ardai waited outside Grimshaw's office while Captain Shaw was inside. There was little to do except look one way then the other. He wished he'd had the foresight to bring something with him. Maybe even a book.
Shaw would, no doubt, have been more than happy to lend him A Tale Of Two Cities . . .
No. Anything but that.
Will leaned against the wall, arms crossed, bored as hell. Ahead of him, a woman dressed in a captain's uniform turned the corner, stopping in her tracks as her gaze fell on him. She was beautiful, dark-haired. He could've recognised those intense blue eyes anywhere.
Jessica King.
Will smiled as he walked toward her. She remained glued to the spot, clearly taken aback.
"Will?" she asked.
He stepped in close, opened his arms and embraced her. "Jess!"
Will gave her a firm, warm squeeze. He could smell her fragrance – faint, as ever – but there all the same. As it had always been . . . as it had been all that time ago.
They parted. He watched Jessica straighten her uniform. He himself wore nondescript black clothing, a pair of functional trousers, a T-shirt and a black cap. There was no formal attire for Shadow Force operatives.
"What are you doing here?" she asked.
"I'm on assignment," he said, not wanting to give too much away. Not unless Shaw said otherwise, that was. "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?"
"Yeah, not exactly standard issue is it?"
"No. You could say that," she said with a girlish giggle that, seconds later, seemed to have embarrassed her.
"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. "That's what I was going to say. Sorry."
Will grinned. His hand fell to her shoulder. "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."
She frowned. "What d'you mean?"
Will 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. "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. He had managed to act cool and collected, but in truth, he couldn't believe she was there. After all those years apart, and what surprised him most was how the old feelings had been reawakened. Stirred into life again at the mere sight of her.
I'll bet she's watching me walk away, he thought.
He couldn't help but smile.
If I turn around, and she's still looking, and she has that expression she used to have . . . maybe it's still there.
Will reached the end of the corridor and turned back to look at her. Their eyes locked on each other. He made sure to flash her a smile once more, then turned the corner and was gone while he still could.
Before he was tempted to go back.
* * *
Shaw stood as Grimshaw made the introductions.
"Jessica, I'd like you to meet Captain Shaw. He's on special assignment for me," the Admiral explained.
"Pleasure," she said as she shook his hand.
"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 . . ."
That's putting it mildly from what I've heard, he thought.
"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.
He liked her instantly – he could tell she had gumption and, more importantly, balls. Qualities he admired in a woman.
Grimshaw indicated the two seats in front 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 members 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.
To Shaw, the Admiral's eyes looked heavy, tired.
"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. "Why do that?"
"Superior fighting force," 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."
"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.
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 added.
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.
"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. "Do we know who took the Namar from the Enigma in the first place?"
Shaw cleared his throat. "I'm looking into that. It's been heavily classified. If there's a file at all," he 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 was grim. "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. "That's war."
* * *
Kalar lumbered off the ship. Although he possessed six arms, the Xantian pilot had no legs to speak of. Much like a slug, he had one large slimy foot upon which he moved. Rhythmic waves of muscular contraction on the underside allowed him to move about, however slowly. Xantian crewmembers were rare aboard Union vessels because of their handicap, that and the slime trail they inevitably left behind. However Kalar had had treatment to limit the amount of mucus secreted beneath the foot so that it dried within seconds of hitting the floor.
"Go on ahead if you like," Kalar told Punk. "I don't mind. I'm used to this pace, don't forget."
"Don't you sweat it, mate," Punk said, furry hands in his pockets. "I don't much mind the slower pace o' things, when it comes along."
"That's good. It's nice to get off the ship," Kalar said.
Punk looked behind him. In the last minute, they'd managed to get no more than twenty metres from the airlock. Out of respect to the Xantian, however, he would never have said anything. He merely smiled and continued along at Kalar's pace, hands in his pockets, wondering if they'd have enough time on the promenade to visit Mickey's bar. It had been so long. And he hoped they might have something to drink there. A glass of Jameson's or two. Or three.
"I'm thirsty," Punk said, smacking his chops, picturing the glass of amber liquid already. Tasting it.
"We'll get there soon enough, not to worry."
Yeah, Punk thought. But when?
* * *
"What was it sir?"
Shaw checked over his shoulder as they walked away from the Admiral's office.
"He wants us to look into a runaway project of theirs. An ancient alien race, gene splicing . . ." Captain Shaw shook his head. "Murky waters, Commander. Murky waters."
"You're taking it on?"
"Correction. Took it on. I've already agreed to do it. Grimshaw and me go way back, Will. I owe him one," Shaw said.
Will rubbed at the corner of his eyes. "I noticed he had Jessica King in there too."
Shaw's eyebrows rose in surprise. "You know her?"
"We went out, a long time ago. Never thought I'd bump into her again," Will said.
"How did it end?"
"Oh there wasn't any trouble between us. We just both went our separate ways."
"I see," Shaw said. He rubbed his hands together as they reached the end of the corridor. "Coming to the casino with me, kiddo? Let an old man show you how to blow your dough?"
"Well, I was about to get to that . . ."
The Captain visibly sagged with disappointment. "Don't tell me," he grumbled, looking away.
"It wasn't planned–"
"You met, the old spark's still there, you've got the fire going again."
"Sir, it was out of my mouth before–"
Shaw folded his arms. "And now you're wondering if there isn't something still there between the two of you. Ships that pass in the night and all that."
Will sighed.
They stood there a moment before Captain Shaw broke into a sleazy grin, one of his worst. "Go on."
"I told her to come by the ship. I promise she won't touch anything," Will said, already walking off. "Thanks, sir!"
Shaw raised a finger. "Wait, you told her she could what?"
* * *
The boom of music, the loud chatter of people enjoying themselves inside Mickey's filled that end of the promenade as Barbie approached. She stepped inside, her bulk filling the door frame. Heads craned up to get a better look. Voices grew still. A curtain of relative silence fell over the whole place, apart from the music. That was still there.
Eyes followed her as she strolled up to the bar and leaned against it, giant paws clasped together in front of her.
"What can I get you?" the barman asked.
"Beer."
His eyebrows peaked from surprise. "Beer, huh? A pint?"
Barbie shook her head. "What's the biggest glass you've got?"
The man swallowed, looked about before settling on a tall vase on one of the back shelves. It currently had a film of dust inside. "This do?"
She nodded. Around her, Mickey's bar returned to normal. Conversation resumed, though she still felt eyes watching her. Nervous glances in her direction. Mantipors weren't exactly known for their even tempers. Even less so for their good natures toward humans.
"Let me rinse it out so you can enjoy that beer," he said. He ran it under the water and looked up at her. "We don't see many Mantipors in here."
"And that should concern me . . . why?" she asked.
The barman gulped, but tried to hide his discomfort by looking down. "Just making conversation," he mumbled.
"Get the beer. I'm not in the mood."
He wiped the vase out with a bar towel tucked into his belt, then filled it from the tap. It had a thick, frothy head on it, the glass perspiring as she lifted it to her mouth and drank. The barman watched, astonished as she took half the vase down in one go – it had held a good five pints. Had to have.
She set it down on the bar top. "Thanks. I needed it."
"Really?" he asked. "I've never seen someone do that before."
"I was thirsty, okay?" Barbie growled.
He held his hands out in front of him. "No offense intended, Miss. Just stating a fact, is all. I wish all my punters drank like you do."
She lifted the vase and drained the rest of it, wiping the foam off the fur around her mouth with the back of a paw.
"Well, I'll tell you what," Barbie boomed so the whole place could hear her. "Anyone who can hold their own with me, drink for drink, I'll pay their tab. How about that?"
The barman's face lit with greed as he watched the first challenger, a Lieutenant from one of the visiting starships, rise from his chair and saunter over to the bar.
"They won't keep up with you," the barman whispered to Barbie.
She laughed but it came out as a strangled growl. "I know."
* * *
Ardai heard Jessica's voice at the airlock and watched on the monitor as she stepped inside the ship. He'd hoped – but not believed – that she'd turn up.
"Hello?" her voice called down one of the corridors. "Hello?"
Will walked up to her, nearly making her jump it was so quiet aboard. "Sorry, I got caught up. I just had time to hit the access button to let you in," he said.
"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," Will said as they started to walk in the direction he had come from.
"It's so small in here," she remarked.
"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, unable to help smiling.
"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."
"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?"
"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 sitting 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."
She 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?"
"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 close to her ear 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 against him. "Will . . ."
He kissed the top of her head. "By the way, the ship? We call her the Spectre."
"Spectre as in shadow," she said, followed by a giggle. "Imaginative."
"I originally suggested Rosalita, but the skipper wasn't having any of it. Can't imagine why. I love that song . . ."
* * *
Captain Rick Shaw bet on the black again and watched with that familiar sinking sensation as it came up red.
Again.
No matter what he tried, the stupid ball landed on the opposite of what he'd bet. If he hadn't known any better, he could've sworn it was rigged somehow. But how do you jemmy a ball?
"Sir?"
He dug in his pocket, produced another chip. "Go on. Same again."
Shaw had not been out of the Admiral's office an hour and he'd already blown a small fortune on the roulette wheel. He liked Bones Casino on Station 6. They did things the proper way, everything old-school. No digital roulette machines there.
Those machines were known as "Gambler's Cocaine," and for good reason. Too easy to play, and to easy to lose on. They'd swallowed enough of Shaw's money for him to know.
And besides, nothing beat having a real person in front of you, taking the bet, setting the wheel, watching with you as the ball did its crazy dance before it settled on the colour of chance.
This time it landed on black.
"You won, sir," the attendant told him. "Would you like another play?"
Shaw grinned. "Does a fish swim in water?"
Maybe my luck's on the turn!
* * *
Barbie tipped the glass of liquor – her eighth – down her throat as if it were water. She looked to her right. The Lieutenant was ruined. He swayed, even sitting down. His eyes were bulging grey marbles, shot through with bright red veins.
"What's wrong, sweetie?" she asked him in her most mocking tone.
He'd turned a shade ofgreen following his sixth glass. They weren't shots of booze. Whole glasses. She barely felt as if she'd had a drink. At some point the other punters in Mickey's had started to take bets. They'd bet on the Lieutenant to drink her under the table. Put their hopes with the underdog.
It was laughable. And in her current mood, it gave her pleasure to know they'd all lose their money. The drinks would pay for themselves. Frustrated as she was, such a thing gave her pleasure.
The Lieutenant lifted the glass gingerly, closed his eyes and pitched it back. His hand found the edge of the bar top as he swayed to the left, swayed to the right, then tipped over and clattered to the floor, out cold.
Barbie stood, raised her enormous arms in the air. "We have a knockout!" she bellowed.
The collective groans of the other patrons quickly diminished as Barbie set them with a fierce look, standing to full height. "Do we have a problem?"
No reply.
"Money on the bar then, boys and girls. Don't cry over spilt milk."
The Mantipor stretched, flexing all of the huge muscles up her back and along her arms as she did so. The money was there next to her by the time she'd finished.
"I should've known," a familiar voice said. Barbie turned to see Punk next to her. She looked down at the short Alpor and their confrontation from earlier flooded back.
"Oh, it's you," she sneered. "Can't you see I'm having a peaceful drink?"
Punk looked down at the Lieutenant. "Yeah love, I can."
"What do you want short stuff?"
"Came here for a drink, like you," Punk said, hopping up onto a bar stool.
The barman busily wiped glasses. "What can I get you?"
"Jameson's. Double. No ice," Punk said. He watched as Barbie stuffed the credits into her pockets. "Bleedin' 'ell, Barbie, why can't you 'ave a drink like the rest of us?"
"Cause none of you can keep up," she said. "And sometimes it's the only fun a girl can get."
"Wouldn't exactly call you a girl, meself . . ." Punk muttered under his breath. If Barbie heard, she made no sign.
"Where's Kalar?"
Punk thanked the barman, lifted his drink and took a swallow of the whiskey. "Ah, that's good," he said. "Kalar's gone to the spa. Somethin' about gettin' he's self steamed. I don't know. Long as the bloke's back in the pilot seat on time, wot's it matter, eh?"
"So, you thought you'd come have a drink with me," Barbie said.
Punk shook his head. "No. I thought I'd 'ave a drink. You just 'appened to be 'ere."
"Smooth."
"Look, Missus, you havin' a drink with me or not?" Punk asked. He patted the stool next to him.
Barbie sighed, settled onto it slowly – she'd had enough experience of such furniture collapsing under her in the past to know better than to throw herself on – and let Punk order for her.
"Another for me, and the same for the lady," Punk said. The Alpor's eyes shifted to the rest of the money on the counter. "What you goin' to do with that?"
Barbie regarded it for a moment, looked at the comatose officer across the bar, slumped in a chair. His friends were attempting to rouse him with a black coffee.
"Hey, barkeep," Barbie growled. "When that idiot wakes up, tell him the rest is his. He earned it."
The man shrugged. "Will do."
Punk tutted next to her.
"What? I thought you'd agree with me doing the right thing for once!"
The Alpor shook his head. "I'd o' respected the decision more if you'd taken our bleedin' drinks out of it! Mantipors . . . tearing limbs off one minute, and acting the good samaritan the next. I can't keep up!"
Barbie drank. It was good. "Where'd you get a taste for this stuff anyway, you little hairball?"
"Says the walkin' talkin' shag pile next to me."
Barbie growled.
"Human colony back 'ome. Learned me English there, so I did. I guess the taste for whiskey just sort o' followed."
"Huh."
"Anyway, how come you always drink 'em under the table, eh? Wot's the secret?" Punk asked.
Barbie leaned closer. "Booze doesn't affect me like that. All it makes me want to do is pee."
Punk's eyes widened in surprise. "For real?"
She nodded.
"You need one now?"
"I can hold it."
"Sure?"
"Look at me. I've got a big bladder. Now drink up small fry. I'm not stopping till you've started singing," Barbie said.
"So . . . our little, you know . . . dispute, earlier . . ."
She patted him on the back. "Done and dusted. I hope."
Punk lifted his glass, chinked it against hers and tossed the lot down his throat with a grimace. "That it is, love."
* * *
Broke, broke, broke. Captain Shaw left the casino, his pockets as empty and deflated as his spirit. Wasn't that always the way? He bet hard because he enjoyed playing hard. He liked taking the risk, the gamble, flirting with the danger to see if he could come out on top the other side of it. But with each round with his demons it only seemed to get worse.
He'd always enjoyed a gamble, had always enjoyed the thrill of throwing money at chance to see if Lady Luck could turn a modest sum of money into something far more substantial. But when all was said and done, it was like taking Star Salts on a regular basis – you got hooked. You got so you couldn't go a long time before you felt the burning need to do it again. It got so bad you'd do anything – anything – to gamble again. No matter who got hurt along the way.
Shaw looked back at the sign over the door. He felt the pang of regret that always seemed to hit him right in the chest afterward. Guilt, too. How many credits had he thrown the casino's way? A small fortune.
And what's there to show for it? he wondered. Just an ever-increasing debt to the galaxy's most notorious organised crime outfit, The Open Fist. One he couldn't pay, not in a million years.
Oh, he thought. What am I going to do? I'm broke, broke, broke. Broker than a starship missing a Jump drive.
He couldn't help but chuckle. Debt was just a number to him. The misery that the roulette wheel had wreaked on his personal life over the years was but a series of misfortunes, unconnected to his addiction.
No one understood how hard it was to give up. Unless they understood the buzz of trying to win, then argument on the matter was a moot point. There was nothing to discuss. Every relationship he'd ever had seemed to dissolve in a bitter fog of misunderstanding and frustration.
Didn't those women – the lucky ones who got away – know of his struggle?
Shaw stood against the railings along the upper deck of the promenade and looked down, deep in thought. Wondering how he'd pay his debt to The Open Fist. Wondering why he wasn't capable of having money in his pocket and keeping it there. He was reflecting upon such matters when he felt the blunt end of a weapon pressed into the small of his back.
"No sudden movements," a voice warned him. "Nice and easy. Step back, no turning around."
"Don't you have anything better to do? Like hold up a kid somewhere for his lollipop?" Shaw spat.
"Round back. No more talking."
Shaw went to the right, slow as could be. A long space between two of the business modules led behind them to an area for storage purposes. Shaw went first, the alleyway narrow until he emerged into the bigger storage space.
"That'll do yer. Turn around," his assailant commanded.
Shaw did as he was told. The alien had a heavy pistol in one hand and a short pain stick outstretched in the other. "You always carry two weapons?" Shaw asked.
He watched as the alien slipped the pain stick into a holster down his left leg. "Not always. Heard yer quite the roughneck."
Shaw couldn't deny it. "There might be some truth to that, yeah."
"The boss is mighty upset."
"Yeah, well . . ." Shaw mumbled. "I'm worth the price he's slapped on my head, and he knows it. I've been known to be a high roller."
When? When was I ever considered one of those?
The Vibion lifted his pistol. Captain Shaw thought he saw regret there on the alien's face, though he could've been mistaken. Whatever it was, it was only a glimmer.
"Yer bounty's as good for dead or alive," he said. "I figure ya'll be easier cold."
"Yeah?" Shaw said, readying himself, more than aware of the pistol pointed at him. "Gotta kill me first."
Shaw stepped in close, at the same time lifting the pistol. The Vibion male fired reflexively but it went up in the air. Shaw kept hold of the gun barrel, as did the alien. Shaw slammed his right knee into the creature's sternum. The breath went out of it with a hiss. He grabbed the back of its jacket and made short work of throwing it forward, onto the ground. The pistol clattered away.
Shaw delivered a few sharp kicks to the Vibion's side, and thought he heard something crack. Whatever the case, the alien now lay curled up in the dust and dirt, trying to breathe.
He put his boot on the side of its head. "Tell them to send a professional next time. Not a two-bit crook. Tell them whoever it is better be good. Because if I survive another hit I'll come see them myself."
"Garrr . . ." was all he got in reply.
Shaw lifted an eyebrow. "I'll take that as an affirmative," he said with a smirk and stalked off. He passed the pistol on his way and made sure to kick it out of sight.
Damn amateurs, he thought.
3.
Will led Jessica through the ship by the hand. It should have felt awkward. Unreal, perhaps, to lead an old flame around like that.
But there it was. It didn't feel strange. His hand, bigger than hers – his skin rough to the touch – didn't feel out of place around hers.
As much as it seemed natural, it hadn't left the back of his mind the way in which 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.
"Go on, have a nose," Will invited her as they arrived at the bridge. He stood to one side at the door so she could walk 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 up here, plus the Captain. Two more 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, eyes wide. "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 Xantians . . . 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 told her.
"A Xantian pilot. Makes sense," Jessica nodded.
"Come on, let's get to the engineering room. I want you to see something."
* * *
It was as small and cramped as the bridge. He could see Jessica's attention was drawn to the furious light emitted by the Spectre's reactor core. It sparkled and shimmered, emitting a deep yellow glow 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.
"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.
"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 with no small amount of smug pride at serving on such an advanced ship.
"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 rest of the 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 . . ."
Jessica moved in close. "Then there won't be anyone to see us do this, will there?"
She didn't wait for him to respond. Her mouth found his, her tongue caressing his, her hand at the side of his face, then the back of his neck.
He broke it off. Looked deep into her eyes. "Jess, where's this going?" he asked, searching her blue eyes for anything that might indicate where he stood.
"I don't know. Why don't we see what happens?"
"Yeah. Sounds good to me," he said, and meant it.
* * *
"Damn slug," Barbie muttered under her breath. "I could go faster with both legs shot off . . ."
"Shh!" Punk hissed.
Kalar slithered along beside them. "What did you say Barbie? Sorry I didn't catch it."
The Mantipor went to speak but Punk cut in. "She was just sayin' how nice it is to get off the ship for a change. You know, stretch our legs."
"Or leg," Kalar said.
Barbie looked down at the Xantian. "That's a leg?"
"Oh, it's been a pleasure. That full body massage is not to be missed," Kalar said, voice thick with reverie.
"I bet," Barbie said.
"They cleansed every mucous gland. You wouldn't believe what I can accumulate over the months . . ."
Punk peered up at the Mantipor and swallowed. "Is that right, eh, mate?" he asked feebly.
"Next time I'll get you to come along," Kalar said. "You'll be astonished by the amount of fluid they collect from this humble body. It's quite something . . ."
"Kay, I think that sounds right up his alley," Barbie said and started to laugh.
The Alpor's expression made her chuckle all the more.
* * *
Will walked Jessica 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.
There was something in her face, her expression, but he couldn't decipher what it was. "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, nice and tender. She turned and left and he watched the hair cascading down over her shoulders, admiring the way she walked, her perfect derriere. Will Ardai watched every inch of her as she left him and slowly, regretfully, he backed into the Spectre.
* * *
It took long enough, but eventually Barbie, Punk, and Kalar arrived back at the Spectre. Captain Shaw was close behind.
"Come on guys and girls, we've gotta get this wagon prepped!" he said as he blazed past them into the airlock.
"What's got into you?" Barbie grumbled.
"Well," Shaw said. "Had myself an unpleasant encounter with an assassin working for The Open Hand. I came on top this time, but I'd rather not stick around to see if there's another."
"They turn up here, I'll tear 'em apart," Barbie said.
Shaw patted her on the arm. "I know you would, Barb. It touches me."
"I'm goin' to spool the reactor an' run me checks," Punk said, walking off.
Kalar trundled past, headed for the bridge. "Pre-flight sequence?"
"Yes," Shaw said. "Get her ready to fly."
"Where are we going?" Barbie asked the Captain.
"A little dump of a planet called Outland," Shaw said. "We've gotta find some missing soldiers."
"Soldiers?" the Mantipor asked, surprised.
"Yeah," Shaw chuckled. "Cool, huh?"
* * *
"She's here sir," Will said.
The Captain came to stand next to him at the security monitor. "Don't let her in. I'll go out to speak with her."
"Well, I was hoping–"
"Kid, take it from me. It's best not to overdo it. Let her have a little space from you, see if it's still there when you see her again, you know? I couldn't tell you the amount of relationships I've screwed up in the past because I came on too strong."
"Hmm . . ." Will sounded unconvinced.
"Trust me," Shaw said.
"Maybe you're right."
"Let's get on with this assignment, then get back in touch with her. You'll be able to tell if she's really interested in you then. I assume you are in her?"
Will nodded. "Sure."
"Well then."
* * *
"So as you can see, Doc, it's a touchy thing," Shaw said in hushed tones. He'd just explained to Dr. Clayton the issue they were having with Barbie's increasingly aggressive mood swings.
"All a hormonal issue, I'm sure," Clayton said. "You could try administering her two Kovolax a day; that might help."
"Kovolax? Where will I get that from?"
The Doctor chuckled. "It'll be in your medicine store. All ships are required to carry a certain amount of drugs, including Kovolax."
"Gentlemen, when we're finished discussing the chemical make-up of female Mantipors . . ." Jessica handed Shaw a data tablet. "This is everything the Doctor could remember. Should cut you a few corners."
Captain Shaw scanned through the information on it.
"Thanks, this will come in handy," he 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.
"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 bade her farewell. "I'll keep you posted, Captain."
"Thanks," she said.
Captain Shaw went back inside the Spectre. He stood next to Will at the security monitor, and they watched as she lingered there a moment. It looked like she wanted to barge her way onto the ship.
"That there is a good woman, kid," Shaw said. "Oh yeah. I tell you she's got balls?"
Will cocked an eyebrow. "I know from personal experience she doesn't."
"You know what I mean."
The Captain walked off but Will remained where he was a few seconds longer, looking at Jessica as she stood there, no doubt feeling the same influx of emotion he was.
"See you, Jess," Will whispered and headed for the bridge.
* * *
Kalar disengaged the airlock, teased the thruster controls to ease the Spectre away from the revolving hull of Station 6.
"When you're ready, Kay. Nice and easy does it," Shaw said.
Will stood next to him. He leaned forward to speak to the Captain privately. "Sir, if you want to talk about what happened earlier . . ."
The Spectre's skipper threw him a puzzled looked. "Why would I want to do that?"
"It's not every day someone tries to kill you," Will said.
Shaw laughed. "It is in this game. You get used to it."
I'll accept that, Will thought. For now.
Kalar opened up the engines and their compact vessel lurched forward, into the void and the mystery ahead . . .
4.
Cessqa stood with her hands clasped behind her back, face still, her expression giving no hint as to what was going on inside.
Eruptions of energy detonated in the surrounding nebula of the Chimera Cluster, swift flashes of light accompanied by purple lightning. A pocket of dark gases sat to the right, several star systems wide. In there. That's where they would find it.
The Array.
The Amarax hummed with energy around her. The great cylinder could withstand any bombardment the Cluster deemed to throw their way. It had been built not only as an ark, a refuge of their race. But as a last outpost. A mobile world that doubled as an entire offensive force.
She gave the order to proceed into the darkness. In there, the Array had sat for countless centuries waiting for them to wake and reclaim it, the most sophisticated technology her race had ever developed.
An antenna through which she would reach out to the ghosts of her people . . . and call them home.
Few dynasties, few empires get a second chance. For perhaps the first time in all of history one such civilisation was being given another shot. An opportunity to rise once more from the ashes and claim the stars for their own.
Outland
1.
This place is gonna give the Spectre such a bad case of dust contamination . . .
Shaw gazed upon the surface of the planet Outland with his one good eye, trying to spot any green or blue among the endless sand.
It was a wholly futile effort. These worlds were founded before even the Terran Union was formed, back when it was known as the Terran Federation. The Colonial Wars had prompted the formation of a new governing body, a Union of worlds and races that, despite efforts to destabilize it, was still standing centuries later. Captain Shaw found it amusing that the very worlds that had kick-started the Terran Union were forgotten about, left at the fringes of civilisation to muddle through as best they could. The old colonies were leftovers of a forgotten time, relics of those heady days prior to unity that served as bitter reminders of the direction things could take if the Union were to fall.
"Shall I take us down?" Kalar asked.
"Do it. You've got the co-ordinates."
"Indeed I do," the Xantian replied.
Shaw got up from the captain's chair. "Set her down nice and soft, though, eh Kay? I don't want a repeat of what happened on Nimoy Prime."
Kalar turned to eyeball him. "Captain, that was months ago. And it wasn't technically my fault . . ."
Shaw waved a hand at him. "Heard it all before, my multi-limbed friend. If you need me, I'll be below decks."
"Yes sir," Kalar said in a decidedly petulant tone. As Shaw left the bridge, he couldn't help but break into a grin. He was still giving the Xantian stick for nearly crashing the Spectre on the surface of Nimoy Prime. It was true, it hadn't technically been the alien pilot's fault. Broken landing gear on the starboard side failed to deploy properly when they landed. The Spectre set down on soft ground, tilted right and sunk several feet below the surface. He knew Kalar still hadn't gotten over the embarrassment of the incident and he fully intended to remind him of the event as long as feasibly possible.
He walked into the mess to get a coffee. Will Ardai looked up. "Are we here?"
"What? In the kitchen?"
The Commander shook his head. "Kalar taking us down?"
"He is," Shaw said, filling a cup with coffee granules, scalding hot water, and just one sugar.
Ardai shook his head. "Let's hope he does a better job than he did back on Nimoy Prime . . ."
Shaw smiled. "I've already ribbed him about it. Thought I'd get off the bridge before he slaps me with one of those slimy tentacles."
"God, yeah," Ardai said.
The Spectre trembled and Shaw didn't have to look at a computer screen to know his ship was tearing into the upper atmosphere of the desert planet. He knew the outer hull would be white hot from the punishing heat of atmospheric re-entry. Of course, the true reason he had vacated the bridge was that Kalar genuinely needed peace and quiet to concentrate on their landing. It was one thing putting down a small transport – another to do the same to a big starship.
"Well, we haven't died yet."
"No, Cap. Still, I wonder if I should go up there," Ardai said. "Help him out in some way."
"I wouldn't Commander. Just let him do his thing. It's usually the best way. If he needs help, trust me, he'll ask for it," Shaw said.
"Of course you're right . . ."
The door to the mess opened. Barbie walked in, filling the entire doorway as she did so. The Mantipor went to the galley and selected a plate of raw meat, as was her way.
"Don't you ever feel compelled to cook it first?" Ardai asked.
She shot him a look. "We Mantipors eat meat as it is meant to be eaten. Raw, for the full flavour."
"You're giving me indigestion," Ardai said.
Barbie smiled, showing all of her small, razor-sharp teeth. She slapped a handful of raw meat directly into her mouth, dripping cold blood down her chin. She wiped the trickle of bright red juice away absently, as if it were barely a consideration. "Makes me more hungry."
* * *
Punk stepped on to the bridge to find the view of an alien world before him. Kalar took the Spectre beneath clouds, headed straight for the starport where they were instructed to land.
"Want 'elp, mate?"
Kalar glanced behind him. "No. Just stay quiet. Remember, this is tricky."
"Will do," Punk said, hopping onto a stool to observe silently the piloting competence of his Xantian colleague.
Kalar grunted as he slowed the Spectre, the starport coming up ahead of them, sprawled out upon the baking hot desert like a giant flower of aluminium and concrete. He took her about, a little pivot in mid-air before beginning the descent to the surface.
"Well done," Punk said.
"Thanks," Kalar huffed, relieved by the prospect of touching ground again. The Spectre lowered through the air and a moment later, it had come to settle directly on the required spot and not an inch out of alignment. "Let's see the Captain pull this landing apart!"
"Well to be fair, mate, that other one was bloody awful."
"Enough! Don't spoil this for me," Kalar said.
Punk reached for the nearest comm. pickup. "Attention one an' all, we're here."
"That was anticlimactic," Kalar said. "I was expecting something funnier."
Punk shrugged. "I got tongue tied."
"You?"
"Yes me!"
Kalar shut the Spectre down. Let her have a rest, he thought. She deserves it.
* * *
Captain Shaw and Commander Ardai left Barbie to her unwholesome lunch and walked toward the rear of the ship. They would need gear for Outland. Permits, too, in the event they were stopped. The kind of permits Shaw had been issued pretty much guaranteed a man anonymity anywhere the Union had a standing.
The weapons were for when the good grace of the Union wouldn't get them out of Dodge.
"Cap," Will said. "Don't mind me asking, but are you sure you don't want to talk about that thing?"
Shaw frowned. "What thing?"
Ardai sighed. "The attempt on your life? On the station?"
"Oh that," Shaw said. "Done and dusted."
"Well . . ."
"Listen, sometimes a man's private affairs are just that. Private. If you must know, I'm into some people for a few G's. So what? I'll pay it back, with interest. They know I'm good for it. In the meantime they carry on sending these chimps, couldn't fight their way out of a paper bag."
"Yeah, but we're not just talking about you getting attacked, we're talking him having you murdered. Does that not scare you?"
"Sure," he said. "But you move past it."
"Is there anything I can do to help?"
They stopped outside the airlock. Their individual gear was there: spacesuits, biohazard wear, everything and anything one needed for a sojourn on an alien planet.
"You can do one thing," Shaw said.
"Yeah? What? Anything you ask."
"Shut up asking me questions and get your jacket on. Make yourself look like a nobody."
Ardai checked the clothing he had stowed away there.
"Problem?" Shaw asked. "Need me to loan you some boots?"
His second-in-command guffawed. "You own a pair?"
"That kind of humour is below you, Commander. I'm disappointed."
"I learned from the best, sir."
"That you did," Shaw said. "As you were."
2.
Commander Lisa Chang hesitated at the door to Admiral Kerrick's office. She straightened her uniform tunic, looking down as she gathered herself.
You can do this.
She felt lost at sea. Captain Jessica King hiding out, labelled a criminal by the Terran Defence Force top brass. The Defiant decommissioned, having her components removed piece by piece in order for her to be scrapped. Everything felt up in the air. And there was the threat of Cessqa out there, somewhere – thus far they'd failed to locate her. The Chimera Cluster had proved a perfect hiding ground for Cessqa and the Amarax – as it had for the Draxx when Captain Driscoll and the crew of the Manhattan had hunted them there decades before.
Chang signalled her intention to enter, waited, then looked up as the door opened in front of her. Kerrick sat at his desk.
"Come in, Commander."
The door slid shut behind her and she came to stand in front of the Admiral, giving him a crisp salute. "Admiral."
"At ease," he said. He leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head. "Take a seat."
She did so and waited for him to speak.
"You're probably wondering why I've called you in here," Kerrick said. "I understand you currently have no posting."
"Correct sir. The Defiant has been decommissioned. Many of us don't know where we're headed next."
"For some of you, I'm afraid, it will be postings to entirely different vessels. It's unavoidable, I'm afraid," Kerrick said, his voice slippery.
Why is he being so nice?
"That will be unfortunate sir."
"I understand you're a close-knit group, Commander," Kerrick told her. "However that isn't always something to be encouraged. Always best to take the status quo and shake it up a bit, wouldn't you agree?"
"Yes, Admiral."
Kerrick sat forward, his posture rigid straight.
Down to business, Chang thought.
"There is an oppurtunity, Commander. Advancement to Captain, if you feel you're ready for it," Admiral Kerrick said flatly, as if he'd announced the time.
Well this is unexpected . . .
"Captain? Sir, I don't understand."
A smirk lifted one side of his mouth, and it was not an endearing expression. It made the Admiral appear even less trustworthy and noble than he had before.
"The next step for you, Commander, surely. Your own command. A new vessel, no less. The Intrepid. Are you familiar with it?"
She nodded. "One of six new Epsilon class ships, long-range cruisers. Very nice sir."
"Well, she's yours if you'll take her. I need trustworthy people, Chang. People I can rely on," Kerrick said. He got up, hands behind his back, and went to stand by the viewport in the office. Kerrick looked out, face taut, jaw set tight. "It couldn't have been easy, reporting King like that. Doing that to your own Captain . . ."
It broke my heart.
"It took nerve, a strong sense of duty."
I feel like a traitor, even though she ordered me to do so. I can't shake the feeling I betrayed her.
"It took loyalty for you to do that. Loyalty to the ideals of the Union, and respect for the rules and directives of this fleet. I commend you for it. I need people like you in command of our ships."
"Admiral, I don't know what to say."
Kerrick's fierce gaze was fixed on the stars beyond the station. "Say you will join me, Chang. There's a war coming and we need to be ready for when it hits. I need people I can rely on."
She swallowed. "It would be my honour sir."
A cold shiver ran up her spine as he stepped up to the desk, offered her his hand. They locked eyes as they shook. "I'm well versed in your personnel file, Commander. Not a single blemish there. You're a prime candidate for advancement through the ranks."
He told her to stand to attention. She watched as he fetched a gold pin from his desk drawer and came around to stand in front of her, his face inches from hers as he fixed it to her collar.
Now I feel dirty, she thought. Jessica, I hope you appreciate all this.
"You will be responsible for filling the positions of your command crew," Kerrick said. "But one proviso."
"Yes?"
"I cannot allow you to assign Olivia Rayne to your new command. I frown upon commanding officers having relations – sexual or otherwise – with their subordinates. I'm sorry," Kerrick said, seating himself back behind his desk. "But that is the way it has to be."
You son of a–
"Understood Admiral."
"Excellent. You're dismissed, Captain Chang. Report directly to the Stationmaster. He'll bring you up to speed on the Intrepid."
She snapped him another salute, but he'd already turned his attention to the reports on his desk. Chang couldn't get out of his office quickly enough. She felt as if she'd had to make a deal with the devil. The man had had Admiral Grimshaw murdered and here she was accepting a promotion from him. Making an unspoken agreement with him that he had her complete, unadulterated loyalty. She liked the way he'd thrown the catch of taking the promotion after she'd accepted it.
How on Earth would she break the news to Olivia?
* * *
"Lisa, I never thought we'd get posted to the same ship, anyway," Olivia told her, holding her hands in the quarters they both shared aboard the station. "I didn't bring it up because I knew how much it would upset you."
"I can't believe we're going to be apart like that."
"Apart, but still together. That's the crucial thing here," Olivia said.
"True."
"It's going to be different. A new challenge for both of us, but we'll get through it."
Chang searched her face. "You believe we're strong enough?"
"I do," Rayne said. "You know what else?"
Chang shook her head.
"I believe you're due this, Lisa. It was the inevitable next step, especially once the Captain went into exile."
"The Captain," Chang said, looking away. "Don't remind me. What will she think? She'll be ashamed of me."
"Hey, don't be like that," Olivia said, reaching out, turning Lisa's face back to her own. "She'll be proud of you for staying the course. You're doing everything she wanted you to do."
"I hope you're right."
"I am."
"I wonder where you'll get posted."
Olivia shrugged. "As long as you're only a Trans-Gal message away, I don't care where they put me."
Chang took her in her arms, held her tight. "Anywhere but here will always be too far . . ."
* * *
Stationmaster Givens brought up a schematic of the Epsilon class. The holographic model rotated slowly in front of them.
"This her?" Chang asked.
"Not specifically, but they're all exactly the same. They make the old Archon class you're used to look like tin cans, trust me."
Chang frowned as she looked at the specs. "Is that right? It's all next gen weaponry. I'm not familiar with any of it."
Stationmaster Givens grinned. "Yep. They've not spared any credits fitting these babies out, let me tell ya. Rasa Torpedoes. Class three laser cannons. No more duotonic warheads. No more artillery. See that?" he tapped a section of the hull.
"Yes, what am I looking at?"
"That there's an energy shield emitter. No more need for hull plating."
"My God. I'd heard there were advancements in this stuff, but I never imagined I'd see all of it fitted to one ship," Chang said, openly impressed by the Intrepid's abilities.
"She's one helluva ship, if you ask me," Stationmaster Givens said. "She's ready to inspect, if you want to take a look around."
"Sure. Why not?"
Givens grabbed his communicator as they left his office. "I'm on call twenty-four-seven. Better take this. They'll go nuts if they can't get hold of me."
"Understandable I guess."
They took the first tube to the docking bay where the Intrepid awaited her arrival. They sped through the superstructure of the station, passing the promenade and the crowds of people there.
"You've yet to pick your crew, so I heard," Stationmaster Givens said.
"I'm still mulling it over," Chang said.
"Don't let the Admiral rush you. Take your time, 'cause once you're out there, you're stuck with each other."
You're full of useless advice, aren't you, Givens? Do you think they just promoted a rookie to command one of their newest ships? Dolt.
"Thanks. I'll remember it."
"That's okay," he said, proud as punch to have instructed her in some way. "You have your second in command, but the Stationmaster's always a Captain's first mate."
It was all she could do to keep from rolling her eyes.
The transport angled to the left on its track, and headed straight for Docking Bay Three.
* * *
Stationmaster Givens never stopped talking, it seemed. She could hear his voice droning on self-importantly even as she stood in the scream of the decontamination jets.
". . . towed here, then my boys did the final assembly. You wouldn't believe the performance of these new Jump Drives, Captain, trust me. Faster. More reliable . . ."
Chang wished there were a mute switch to the Stationmaster so he could continue yakking but she'd be spared the agony of having to listen to it.
I just want to see the ship.
"This way," he said, leading her to a corridor. The Intrepid was still full of engineers and construction personnel, each and every one of them rushing here, there, and everywhere, working hard to get the ship ready in time for launch.
"Any idea where they're sending you?" Givens asked.
She shook her head slowly. "No, not yet. Unfortunately you can't accept a command position on the prerequisite of where you'll be sent."
"True."
"If I had to guess, though, I'd say it was a military operation of some kind. Possibly offensive."
Givens frowned. They passed a team of people running cables and computer junctions into the wall on their left. Sparks flying from tools. "What makes you say that?" he asked when they'd passed.
"The weapons systems of this vessel. They've designed her to pack a considerable wallop. There's always a motivation for doing so."
"Maybe," Givens said. They arrived at a lift and the Stationmaster called it. They stepped inside. "Bridge or engineering?"
She smiled. "Oh, it's got to be the bridge."
It took mere seconds to arrive there. The lift doors parted for them, revealing the command centre of the Intrepid. Much to her relief, and comfort, it was similar to that of the Defiant. Smaller, perhaps. Fewer stations.
"Did the designers expect a smaller bridge crew?" she asked, noting two stations on either side, a single seat at the helm, and of course, the captain's chair dead centre.
Seeing it vacant, however, did not make her grateful for what she'd been gifted. It only made her miss Jessica King all the more. It made the price she'd had to pay for her own promotion seem all the more absurd. Her own Captain was out there, somewhere, a criminal. The Union's most wanted, for a crime she hadn't committed.
She snapped to at the sound of Givens' voice. "Captain Chang?"
"Yes. Sorry. I zoned out a bit there."
He laughed. "That's quite alright. Let me explain the configuration. On your left, engineering, tactical. Helm at the front, of course. On your right, navigation and communications at the same console, and science."
"Why the decision to combine nav and comms?"
"Oh I thought you knew. All communications officers are now required to be trained and proficiently capable in both. Let's be honest, there's no real need for a designated navigator."
She shrugged. "True I suppose."
"Anything else you want to know about?" Givens asked.
"What about the engineering station up here?"
"A new thing. The new spec is to have the Chief of Engineering on hand at all times, unless he's really needed down there. He or she has their own dedicated team to run things. Most of the time, the Chief will be directing them from the bridge."
"Makes sense," she said, now looking at the captain's chair.
"Care to try it out?"
"What?"
The Stationmaster indicated the chair. Chang shrugged, lowered herself into it slowly, felt the soft, spongy material mould to her body as she settled into it. It was, perhaps, the most comfortable chair she'd ever had the fortune to sit in.
"God. I bet half the bill for this tub was for the chair," she said, making no attempt at hiding the fact that she was impressed.
"Thought you might like it."
The forward viewscreen was impressively wide – it was currently dark and showed nothing. She knew that when they were underway it would give the impression there was nothing there at all. Merely a gaping hole revealing the void beyond. She stood. "Is the ship's engineer aboard?"
"Yes. It's my belief that you'll be inheriting him as part of your command crew."
"As I suspected," Chang said, following him into the lift.
A Chief of Engineering was usually assigned to new builds, to oversee their crucial final stages. They would then remain with the ship, at least for the first couple of months. It just made good sense to have someone so well-versed and experienced aboard. The lift slowed and they arrived at the engineering room. Stationmaster Givens led her through a relative junk heap. It was a mess down there, at the heart of the ship, but Chang knew it was organised mess. Everything had its place, its purpose. One day soon, it'd all be gone.
They stepped into the reactor room.
"Here he is. Chief Kolvin."
"Which one?" Chang looked at a group of four men attending to a blackened console. They appeared to be discussing what had caused it to end up in that state. Two of them were human; one a short, stocky droid, humanoid in design. The fourth was a thin wispy man who appeared to be a Gobol.
Givens cleared his throat. "CHIEF?"
The Gobol turned around, his bushy white eyebrows rising in surprise above his jet-black circular eyes. His bobbled skin was peach, the top of his head completely bald. He had a scraggly white beard, a mouth of small sharp teeth. "Yes?"
"This is Captain Chang. Your new commanding officer."
"Oh. An honour," Kolvin said, offering her his hand. Chang looked down. The ends of his peachy-orange fingers became suckers. She slid her hand inside his and shook warmly.
"The honour is mine," Chang said.
It was rare to find a Gobol serving in the Terran Defence Force. Their proclivity for all aspects of engineering and technology were unmatched. She knew she was extremely lucky to be serving with him, let alone to have him as her Chief of Engineering.
"You flatter me without need. Have you seen the rest of the ship?"
"Bits. There's still much to be done, it seems," Chang said.
Kolvin folded his arms. "Yes. But we are on track. Departure in a week's time. We will have everything squared away before then."
"I don't doubt it. I'm looking forward to seeing her in all her glory."
"She's a nice ship," Givens blurted.
Chief Kolvin smiled. "A fine lady. She will do us proud, once I stop that console there from overloading," he said with a chuckle.
"I can see you're busy, I'll leave you to it. It was a pleasure meeting you."
"And you," Chief Kolvin said.
* * *
Chang asked the Stationmaster to leave her to wander. She thanked him for showing her around and promised to check in with him before they departed. Before he walked away, she asked him where her quarters would be located, then headed there.
At least that was finished. It looked almost identical to Jessica's, only bigger. More of a suite. She wasn't sure if she'd like it, having the extra space without anyone to share it with. What rubbed salt into the wound was the double bed. Chang sat on the edge of the bunk and inhaled; it all smelled so new, so sterile and clean. She looked off to the left where a porthole showed a fleeting view of the stars.
Where are you Jessica?
More than that, she wondered if her Captain was well. She also wondered where Kerrick would send the Intrepid. She had no doubt he meant to use her for some nefarious purpose.
Where are you Captain – I could really use your advice right about now . . .
3.
The dust and sand blew into the Spectre, already coating the ramp in a yellow film. The exit had been open less than ten minutes.
"Deep clean when all this is over," Ardai said, shaking his head. "Can't have this stuff clogging everything up."
Shaw shrugged. "Don't sweat it so much. I think we've got more important matters to tend to, don't you?"
Will couldn't disagree with him.
Shaw ran a hand over the stubble on his chin. "Where the hell are Punk and Barbie? You told Kalar he's gotta stay behind, right?"
"Sure did. I also told those two to be here on the dot."
"For chrissakes . . ."
At that instant, Barbie walked through the entrance to the airlock. She looked at them both, her frame a hulking shadow in such a small room.
"Nice of you to join us," Ardai said. "I guess that little–"
Punk ducked in from behind her legs. "You were sayin'?"
Barbie crossed the room to a comm. panel on the wall. "You've gotta hear this."
"What is it?" Shaw asked.
". . . 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 point to one of our own officers: 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 . . ."
Shaw's face was white-washed with shock. "Grimshaw? It can't be . . ."
Jessica. Ardai could hardly believe it. Terrorist.
"It's a fabrication," he said. "It's gotta be."
Barbie laid a huge paw on her skipper's shoulder. "I know you were close, boss."
Captain Shaw took a deep breath. "I had that meeting with him. King was there," he said, looking at Ardai. "There's no way she's involved in this."
Punk swiped at a data tablet. "Looks like she hijacked 'er own ship, took it on a jolly."
"Why haven't we heard anything?" he asked, then remembered they'd travelled in total silence. Not that they were in regular receipt of communications from command anyway. It came when it needed to, when they were ready to receive it. there was a reason they were Shadow Ops . . .
Punk read him the particulars of Grimshaw's death, as they were believed to be. Outside the dry wind stirred up the dust, sent it inside the airlock, not that any of them noticed.
"I can't believe it," Ardai said. "Why would they implicate Jessica in this?"
Shaw's mind reeled. "She's close to discovering the truth. As are we. You can bet that if we're identified, we'll be implicated too."
"Close to what?" Barbie asked.
Shaw walked back and forth. "These soldiers. The hybrids. It's all connected, don't you see? Grimshaw and King must have caught on to something. Now it's up to us to see this through. I owe the Admiral that. God, I owed that man a lot."
"Skipper?" Barbie asked. "Are you alright?"
He took a deep breath. "We need to do our jobs. Investigate. Find these soldiers, if there are any left. Find out who had them made, who ordered it covered up, and why. Who's behind all this? That's the only chance we've got of helping anyone, is figuring that out."
Punk headed down the ramp. "Come on then, let's get this bleedin' show on the road, no?"
* * *
"Punk and myself will take the saloon," Shaw said. "You go with Barbie and check out the starport."
"I thought we were all going to view the site," Ardai said.
"My thinking is that if any of the hybrids fled the planet, they would have done so through this starport. It's the only way outta here for thousands of miles. If not . . . then they're still here, I guess."
Commander Ardai nodded curtly. "Right. I'll check in with the Sheriff first."
"Sounds like a plan."
"Great," Barbie said. "You and the fuzz ball get to conduct your business at a bar, leaving us two to check ship's logs."
Punk cocked an eye at her. "Who the bleedin' 'ell you callin' a fuzz ball, eh?"
"Hey." Ardai tapped Barbie on the arm. "Come on."
Around them, the town was a hive of activity. The residents of Outland wore strange, outdated outfits. Clothing styles from centuries before. Wide brimmed hats. Spurs. Whips coiled at their sides. A few rode the backs of giant reptiles – the tamed beasts known as Rattlers had proved a worthy successor of all-but-extinct horses.
"I'll check in with the pair of you in a couple of hours," Shaw said. "We can update each other on our progress."
"Right. You'll both be wasted by then," Barbie said.
Shaw looked to Punk then back. "No we won't."
But already his head was thumping, his chest was aching. He felt like a drink, like stepping away from the investigation for a couple of hours. Clear his mind.
"Course not," Punk assured him.
* * *
They were steaming drunk.
Music poured from the speakers, lacking the heavy bass and fast beat of most bars, yet having its own feisty rhythm. The pair of them had walked into the saloon with the best of intentions. Sat up at the bar, ordered their drinks. Asked for their contact – a man called Simmons.
"Nope. Ain't seen Simmons in here for a while now," the bartender told them. "Say, uh, you boys wanna nuffer drink?"
That was how it started. Two hours later, and Punk was getting louder, his accent thicker and more pronounced. Captain Shaw noticed a definite haze to everything. Whiskey had that effect sometimes. If he drank enough of it, his arms and legs became numb. Pleasantly numb.
"Where is this guy anyway?" Shaw asked. Over by the door a group of men sat playing cards; they'd been like that since Punk and the Captain walked in.
The Alpor shrugged. "Don't know. How about we have another drink?"
The bartender had given up pouring their whiskey for them – Shaw lifted the bottle and sloshed into their empty glasses. He hoisted his in front of him. "To the Admiral."
"The Admiral!"
They threw them back in unison. Shaw pulled a face. "Man that's got bite . . ."
Punk studied his glass. "You know he's gonna be pissed when he realises we've been in here, knocking these back," he said.
"Don't remind me. Our contact is a no-show, it's a waste of time," Shaw said. "And you know what? A good friend of mine just died, Punk. I couldn't care less what Will thinks."
Boots behind him and Shaw closed his eyes.
Damn my big mouth.
He didn't have to turn around to know who it was.
"Making progress in here boys? Huh?"
Barbie came to stand with her back against the counter. She towered over every patron in the saloon. The men playing cards and smoking peered up at her in abject horror. Barbie sniffed the air around Shaw.
"They smelled marinated."
Will took up a stool next to Punk. He reached for the bottle, gave the open neck a whiff. "Ooh, looks like we have the marinade."
"Now don't judge–"
"No, no, not judging skipper. By all means."
"You're not?"
"Nope."
Shaw narrowed his eyes. "You're pulling me into a trap aren't you?"
"Why would you say that?" Ardai asked.
Shaw wagged a finger. "I know you, Commander. Lure me into a false sense of security, get me to relax, then go on the offensive. Well, I've got my reasons."
Punk nodded. "Got 'is reasons."
Will looked up at Barbie. The Mantipor chuckled. It sounded deep and gruff.
The bartender sauntered over. He looked warily at Barbie. "Can I get you anything?"
Shaw regarded him with his bloodshot eyes, wondering what he would say.
Will smiled. "How about a proper drink?"
* * *
The sun was falling outside. Captain Shaw slung his arm around Will and pulled him close.
"We deserve this."
"You know what? I think you're right," he looked down at the bar top. "That was quite a shock today."
"Damn right it was. The Admiral was a good man, let me assure you on that score," Shaw said. "There's a few filthy rats will swing when I'm finished."
Will watched his Captain pour them each a drink. "Amen to that, sir," he said and tossed it back.
* * *
It was night when they staggered into the street.
Punk ran a paw over his eyes, blinked to clear them. "Where's the bloody ship?"
"I can't believe you guys," Barbie grumbled, shaking her head. "I'm always the last female standing."
Shaw looked at her with an expression of sincere disgust. "Are you calling us women?"
"I don't think anything else applies."
"The outrage! I've never been so insulted in my life!"
The Mantipor had been in the same position before. She'd found that in times like those it was often best to take the upper hand. She bent, scooped her Captain up in her arms and carried him like a baby. If he'd been any less drunk he might have fought her, tried to get down.
But it was soft up there, held in by her fur, and she swayed slightly from side to side as she walked.
"Oooh, that's good," Shaw said.
"Like a baby," Ardai laughed.
Barbie growled in her throat. "I can't wait to throw him in his cot."
* * *
The man watched from the shadows. The Mantipor carried the older man with the eyepatch up the ramp of the ship. The other two followed them up, then the ramp retracted inside the ship; the airlock closed. He had pursued them all the way from Station six, maintaining a long distance to avoid detection. The man didn't know why they were on Outland, only that he would likely have to act soon if he were to ever claim a bounty.
He walked slowly into the artificial light, his eyes never leaving the ship, parked where it was.
Tomorrow, he thought, merging with the night, a phantom of the dark . . .
4.
Will threw the lights and Rick Shaw jolted awake, his arm defending his eyes from the offensive illumination. "Damn!"
"You've got to stop making a habit of this," Ardai told him.
Shaw peered out, gingerly, squinting. "I think you'll find that's we. Plural."
"You might have me there."
"God, what time is it?" Shaw sat, rubbing his face, trying to massage it back to life. "I feel like death."
Will sat on the edge of Shaw's desk. "Already too late."
"My contact never showed. I don't know why."
"Yeah you told me that yesterday. Before the drink, I think."
Shaw held his head in his hands like a sore bear. "You're a poet and you don't know it."
"Funny. Did I tell you that Barbie and I actually did some work yesterday?"
"Yeah?" Shaw looked up. "Find anything?"
"Don't know yet. The Starport manager is going to get back to me. In the meantime, I'm off to speak with the Sheriff in an hour or so."
"What cover did you use?"
"Terran Intelligence Service. Remember we had those ID's knocked up for the Tadarean job?"
"I do," Shaw said.
Will scratched the back of his head. "Said he'd be more than happy to help, but I had to come back today. Go figure."
"I need to get in touch with this contact," Shaw said.
"We need to stop getting so drunk."
"I know, but . . . I think we needed last night. It was a lot of news to take at the last minute. I can't imagine what your lady friend is feeling right about now," Shaw said.
Will got to his feet. "She's tougher than you think."
"Hope so, kid," Shaw said. "For both your sakes."
* * *
Will headed out into the crisp morning – hard to believe that a desert world such as Outland could ever have anything like an icy start. Yet, a veneer of sparkling frost coated every surface in town the sun hadn't yet touched.
He went on his own – Barbie was wasted on trivial matters such as meetings. She grew restless, as Mantipors were known to be in such situations. Besides, he liked escaping the rest of the team sometimes. The night before shouldn't have happened. With their contact dropping them, they should have regrouped back at the ship and stayed out of sight. As it stood, they'd made a scene in the saloon getting drunk. However, he got Shaw's reasoning behind it all. They needed to blow off steam – one of the perks of not being among the regular enlisted was that they could get away with doing that.
But now they had to crack on, find the evidence, and proceed with their investigation. One night wouldn't harm the job. More than that would.
He walked into the Sheriff's office and asked for Sheriff Ward. The clerk went to fetch him, asked Ardai to sit and wait.
He stood.
Ward came out a moment later, shook his hand, and led him into his office.
"Thanks for coming back, Mister . . ."
Will had to think for a moment himself. "Derry."
"Right. Mister Derry. And you said you're from Intelligence?"
"That's right. I'm here to investigate the military training facility near here. Do you have any knowledge of it?"
Sheriff Ward leaned back in his chair. "If you're from Intelligence, don't you already know all there is to know about some facility?"
"Between you and me, Sheriff, all of this is strictly off the books. There's no record of it existing. But I know it did. And I know it's now been abandoned."
"It's true. I've not seen it myself, but I've heard talk of it. It lies beyond my purview, I'm afraid, being just beyond the borders of my jurisdiction."
"I understand. And do you know anything about a stolen starship from the dock a little while ago?"
He rubbed his chin. "Yeah, couple of weeks ago. Somethin' like that. Blasted out of here. Killed the crew, left 'em behind. Part from one, I think. Musta' kept him alive to fly that darned thing."
"I've checked the records. There's no official statement regarding it."
The Sheriff chuckled. "Mister Derry, out here there ain't an official record for a lot of stuff. Don't mean to say it didn't happen. If folks caught wind there'd been something like that, we'd lose some of the trade that keeps this dusty town goin', you catch my drift?"
"I do."
"The Starport manager stalled ya, didn't he?"
Will nodded. "You don't seem to be surprised by that fact."
"One thing I can do to help you out is tell him to quit draggin' his heels and give you whatever you need. I think you can understand he's only doin' what he thinks is right. The fella's not a bad guy."
Will stood. Offered his hand. The two men shook. "I really appreciate your assistance, Sheriff."
"No problem."
Will headed for the door.
"Oh, one last thing, son," Sheriff Ward said.
Will turned back around. "Yeah?"
"I'm no dummy, kid. I know you're not with Intelligence. I asked you to wait till this morning so I could run the fake name and Ident you gave me. It's no bother, though. I know you're into something. Possibly top secret. That's your business."
He couldn't help but smile. "Sheriff, I appreciate your discretion in this matter. I'd tell you who I am and who I'm with if I could, believe me."
Ward waved a hand at him. "Pah! Don't mention it."
"Let me buy you a beer next time I'm here?"
"Sure thing, son. Throw in a whiskey chaser and I'm your man."
* * *
Walking away, Ardai contacted the Spectre via the comm. unit on his wrist. "Barbie?"
"Here. How's it going?"
"Fine, fine. I'm headed back. Why don't you go and track down the skipper?"
"I take it you made headway," Barbie said on the other end.
"Yeah you could call it that," Will replied. "I think he'll be pleased. Let me know when you find him. I don't want him to fall into the same trap he did yesterday."
The Mantipor sighed. "Commander we're not his chaperones."
"No, but we are his friends."
"You got me there."
"Talk soon." Will closed the channel.
Back at the Starport, Will found the manager much more willing to help once he'd delivered the Sheriff's message. As he waited for the man to retrieve any data he had on the missing ship, he looked at the lines of people waiting to board transports off of Outland. One in particular piqued his interest.
The line for travellers headed to Station six was long. He picked a man at random, looked like he'd seen better days but otherwise seemed trustworthy enough.
"Hey, you're headed to the station, correct?"
The stranger looked him up and down. "Yeah . . ."
"Care to make a few credits?"
"Doing what?" he asked, squinting his eyes to show his apprehension.
Will smiled. "Deliver a message for me."
* * *
"Me 'ead . . ." Punk groaned as they went from the baking hot sunshine to the smoky, dark interior of the saloon.
"Gentlemen! Back so soon?" the bartender asked.
Shaw shook his head. "Just coffee this time around."
"That bad, huh?"
"Like you wouldn't believe," Shaw said.
The bartender guffawed, then set about fixing them both some black coffee. Punk pitched himself up onto a stool.
"Worst hangover ever," the Alpor said.
"I feel you, little buddy," Shaw said. He sat down next to him. "Teach us a lesson, eh?"
Punk shook his head. "Nope."
"Probably right."
A hand fell on Shaw's shoulder. He turned his head slightly to see who it was. An older man.
"Shaw?"
He nodded, once. "That I am."
"I think you've been looking for me . . ."
* * *
The man led them out past the edge of town on his skiff. It was a simple affair, corroded and rusted but propelled by a powerful engine at the back. The old man wore goggles to repel the bits of sand and grit that flew their way. Shaw and Punk had no other option but to turn their heads and hope nothing hit them in the face.
He said his name was Murphy. It seemed about as kosher as any other, Shaw guessed.
"Lived out here your whole life, Murphy?"
"Yessir. Sure have. Took over my pappy's farm when he passed. Must be, oh, thirty years back"
"Yes," Shaw said. He looked at Punk. "So you knew about the base all along, huh?"
"I did. Watched it some of the time. Never got caught. Tried to see what they were doing there. Training. Physical stuff. Guns. You know . . ."
"Then what?"
"One day they went berserk. Fought each other. The fellas with the pale white skin and the regular folk. They died on either side, I guess. Bodies everywhere. I hid up on the ridge, watching. Couldn't believe it."
"What happened?" Punk asked.
The wind whipped past them, the ground beneath the skiff nothing but a blur of rock and dried grass.
"They were all dead," Murphy said, his voice heavy. "Killed themselves in the fighting. God knows why they started in the first place. Who can tell? All I know is there was only two made it outta there."
"Two?" Shaw asked.
"That's right. I never saw where they got to. Soon as I could, I climbed up on my skiff and got the hell out."
"Sounds 'bout right," Punk said. "That must be the two we're lookin' for."
"Yeah."
"Here we are . . ." Murphy told them. He slowed the skiff to a halt and jumped down. Shaw and Punk followed suit. A gust of wind stirred up the dust on the ground into miniature twisting vortexes. An errant tumbleweed skittered past. They reached the edge of a peak and looked down. There, in the vast valley below, was all that remained of the facility.
"It's all gone," Shaw said.
"Came in a few days after it happened," Murphy said. "Took the bodies away, set charges all over the buildings and blew 'em to smithereens. That rubble in front ya. That's all there is."
"You saw all this?" Punk asked.
Shaw looked down over the rubble, the detritus of what was left. "There's no evidence here, Punk."
"Who was it destroying the place? Did you recognise them?" Punk asked Murphy.
The old man peeled the goggles off his face. "Sure. It was Union boys what did it."
* * *
"Well, I thank you for doing that," Shaw said, shaking Murphy's hand back at the saloon.
"Don't mention it. If it helps your investigation, I told Clayton I was happy to help."
Shaw nodded. "You really came through. It's been a big help."
"Good luck, boys," Murphy said.
They walked back under the impassive glare of the hellish sun. The Alpor led the way ahead of him. Minutes after leaving the saloon behind, and Punk was going slower than usual.
"What's the hold-up?" Shaw asked.
The Alpor glanced to the right. Shaw looked, too. A figure emerged from behind the edge of one building and slipped in behind the next. He'd been walking with his face turned to them, eyes focused.
"We're bein' tailed, mate."
"How many?" Shaw asked, hand resting on his belt, near his holster.
"Both sides. Those alleyways. I reckon. Have a gander up ahead. The road's not as busy," Punk said.
Shaw's jaw set hard. "That's where they'll spring the trap. Come at us both sides."
"Who d'you reckon, eh?" Punk asked, cracking his knuckles, snapping his head left, then right, limbering up for what was to come.
"Take your pick. That doesn't matter right now, short stuff. We need to survive the next five minutes."
"Agreed."
It seemed impossible for a street to seem so dark and oppressive under such a sun, but it did. Shadowy, quiet, just waiting for something untoward to happen. A light wind stirred up the sand, then died. Everything grew dead still as they reached the middle.
"Wait," Shaw whispered. "Get my back."
They stood back-to-back, both facing a side, hands at the ready.
Punk growled. "Come an' get it! Stop skulking in the shadows."
As if on cue two men emerged on Shaw's side, and three on Punk's. They held all manner of weaponry: guns, whips, bats. All of it meant for business.
"Well, this is worse than I imagined . . ." Shaw mumbled. He now wondered why he hadn't attempted to avoid them, pick a better spot than ending up standing in the middle of a road, besieged on all sides. And yet, he had that gut feeling. The same impulse that made him gamble, made him take that leap of faith every time he played with money that wasn't his. A surety it'd work out.
Sometimes a gut feeling is the best measure a man can go by.
"Punk, don't pull your punches. Rip 'em a new one." He beckoned the two in front of him. "Come on then. What're you waiting for!"
They ran at him. The thug on the left wielding a club. On the right, his assailant had a long black whip that glowed with energy. He snapped it on the hardpack and it emitted a flash of light on impact.
That's gonna hurt when that clips me.
Shaw made to release his firearm. Instead he kicked dust into the face of the one with the whip. His hands flew to his face, sputtering on what had gone in his eyes and his mouth. The one on the left with the club looked to see what had happened, and in that second of hesitation and uncertainty, Shaw stepped in and slugged him in the guts. A short, hard punch with his right. His left hand gripped the club, twisted it free from the man's grip. He didn't wait. Brought it down, heard the man's skull crack open with the hit.
He hit him again for good measure, grinned, felt someone grab him by both arms from behind. Shaw tried to lurch forward, couldn't break their hold on him, his feet scrabbling to hold him up as he was dragged backward.
The one with the whip had recovered now and swung it around.
Oh no.
It wrapped itself around his leg like the tentacle of some leathery beast. Shaw cried out, the pain coursing all the way through his body, into every nerve, causing every muscle to convulse madly. The whip-hand yanked it free, laughing. Whoever held him was laughing too. He couldn't even see how Punk was doing.
One of the men who'd been on Punk's side came to face him. Shaw gasped, body still in agony from the whip. The man hit him once, hit him again, then slammed him in the face, knocking his head from one side to the other in what seemed like contained nuclear detonations.
His ears rang and that's why he almost didn't recognise the sound. A ferocious roar, like a wild beast. The men in front of him looked up in horror as a vast shadow crossed their path. Shaw was thrown to one side. He picked himself up, turned around.
Punk was on the back of a man waving a giant gun around over his head. He was hitting him on the top of the head. The man let loose an errant shot that cracked the air, then Punk stuck what looked like a stunner to the base of the man's skull and he collapsed, his body dancing a merry jig.
The roar hadn't come from the Alpor, though.
Barbie lifted one of the men, hurled him away. He struck the side of a building with force, fell like a bag of sand to the ground, completely still. The whip-hand attempted to use his weapon on her – she caught the end of the whip mid-air, the charge of it not touching the sides. The man backed off, confused that it hadn't worked. He tried to run, forgot she still had the end of his whip in her hand. Barbie yanked him back, threw the whip around his throat. His hands went to his neck in a desperate attempt to loosen the whip. Barbie lifted him clear off the ground with it, used the man as if he were a makeshift ball and chain to knock one of the last two away. They landed in a crumpled heap together.
The last one hit Punk with a length of metal. The Alpor audibly broke a bone in his arm as he tried to defend himself. Barbie pounced as the man's arm went back again. She took his arm and ripped it clean from his body, blood and sinew slopped from the gaping hole where it had been. He screamed. Barbie gripped his head in both of her massive paws and applied pressure – his scream turned to a high-pitched squeal and then silence as his head was crushed in a single, final crunch.
Blood splattered out from between the Mantipor's giant paws.
Shaw stood. The shock from the whip, combined with the hits he'd taken, had finished him before the fight had properly started. He didn't know how Barbie could stand such a jolt of energy. He watched as the Mantipor lifted Punk off the ground, cradling him in her arms.
"You alright?" she asked Shaw.
"Thanks to you."
She exhaled. "As usual. We should get him to the ship. Run a medical scan."
"Agreed," Shaw said. He looked about at the carnage left in their wake. "I don't suppose any of these are alive enough to answer a few questions . . ."
But Barbie was already moving and it was all Shaw could do to keep up with her. They hurried up the street and when they were far enough away, the same figure who'd watched them from the darkness the night before emerged from a doorway. He walked into the road and watched them depart.
There was a groan to his left. One of the men trying to get up, wounded but not dead.
He walked over to him, his boots crunching on the harsh, gritty ground.
"One of the things I detest about getting others to do your work for you," he said. "Is cleaning up their mess."
The man rolled over, looked up at the sky, his eyes focusing as he came to stand over him. "Hey . . . hey . . ." he croaked. "Help me . . ."
"I don't think so. You failed," he pulled his gun free. Its silver barrel glinted in the sunlight. He fired into the man's face. His legs kicked once in reflex.
The phantom walked away, holstering his piece. "Next time I do the job myself."
* * *
"Put it up on the screen, Kay," Ardai said on the bridge. Shaw held the ice pack to his face and watched as the forward viewscreen came to life.
"This is everything the Stationmaster sent me," Will explained. "It would seem a ship with the designation XB136 was stolen a few weeks ago. All crew were killed, apart from one. Security footage shows two pale-skinned men boarding the ship prior to it blasting off."
"Right. Where did they go?"
"Security has tracking information on XB136 up until the point it Jumped away. I've made the calculations and it's apparent XB136 was headed for Deep Space Supply Station Foxtrot," Ardai explained. "I think we should head there straight away."
"Agreed. Kay, get us ready."
"Yes sir," Kalar said.
Will folded his arms. "So how did you get on? Before the scuffle I mean."
"Scuffle? We were nearly assassinated!"
"Well, whatever you want to call it skipper. Did you see the site?"
Shaw's face grew grim. "Nothing there. Destroyed by the Union."
"A cover-up . . ."
"Precisely."
The Spectre hummed to life, the deck vibrating slightly from the power of her awakened engines.
Barbie appeared in the doorway. She had a can of soda in her paw. "Hey."
"How's Punk?" Will asked.
"He'll live. With what we're carrying, his arm will reset in a matter of hours. Weakling."
Kalar looked back at them. "We're ready."
"Get us out of here, Kay," Shaw ordered. "I need a shower. I feel like I had my ass kicked today."
Will made to speak.
"No, don't bother," Shaw snapped and walked off the bridge.
* * *
The Spectre lifted into the bright blue sky over Outland, its engines glowing white hot as it sped away, leaving a trail of vapour behind it. Seconds later a much smaller, more compact ship followed suit. It matched the Spectre's course, while maintaining its distance. To the Spectre's aft sensors, it would appear as a shadow, a double image of the Spectre herself.
Its pilot would hide in their wake . . . and bide his time . . .
5.
It was the hardest choice she'd ever had to make: choosing who to put on her team, and who to leave behind.
Those who didn't make it would end up assigned to different vessels, she knew, which added to the level of responsibility she felt in the matter.
However, after some soul searching, she finally settled on who would go with her to the Intrepid and who wouldn't. She'd reached out to those she wanted over the course of the week and they'd all accepted. She only regretted she couldn't take any more with her. Most of all, she feared not having Olivia near. Having her billions of light years away was almost an unthinkable proposition, but there it was – it had to be done.
Dana Oriz had accepted the dual role of communications and navigation (for which Chang had made a mental note to refer to as Comm/Nav in the future), at the rank of Lieutenant.
When she'd asked Kyle Banks who would make a suitable helmsman, he'd looked hurt that she wasn't asking him. "Alanna Gordon would make a good choice. She's a little inexperienced, but she's good. She reminds me of myself."
"Well, if she has your seal of approval, I'll make her the offer. And what about you?" Chang had asked him.
Banks frowned. "Me?"
"How would you like to join me aboard the Intrepid?"
"In what capacity? You've got your helmsman," Banks said, miffed.
Chang held out her hand. Opened it to reveal a shiny pin. "As Lieutenant-Commander, and my second in command. I don't want anyone else for the job."
Banks clamped both hands over hers, a big smile on his face. "I won't let you down, Lisa."
"That's 'cause you know if you do, I'll go all King on you and kick your butt," Chang assured him.
There was no choice to be made when it came to the Intrepid's doctor – but Clayton wasn't interested. "I think it's time I stopped," he told her. He'd suggested a suitable replacement, however. Doctor Ira Vassili accepted the moment she approached him. He was younger than Clayton, perhaps forty years of age, and Chang got the distinct impression the man had been Clayton's understudy at some point in the past.
For the role of science officer, there was only one choice, and to her relief Dr. Gentry had agreed straight away. Newly-minted Lieutenant-Commander Kyle Banks would double as tactical officer.
"Feels like I'm filling Commander Greene's shoes," Banks remarked.
Chang smiled at the memory of their fallen comrade. "Yes. Big shoes to fill."
* * *
Walking through the promenade, Chang reflected on how many times she had been there, how it never changed. Mickey's bar was still going, strong as ever. Was there a single cadet in all of the Terran Defence Force that hadn't, at one time or another, found themselves the worse for wear at Mickey's?
She stopped at the Hot Wok noodle stand and ordered Singapore noodles with extra chilli. You simply couldn't get good noodles aboard ship. And they never compared to her Mother's. The Hot Wok came close, though, and whenever she found herself with the time to do so, she made it a habit to stop by the stand and get some.
"Ah, long time no see," the owner said. "Sit down. Singapore noodle, extra spicy, yeah?"
She smiled, picked a stool and perched on it, her arms resting on the counter. "You know me so well."
Immediately the owner had the fire roaring beneath the wok, the smell of hot oil, garlic, spices rushing up from it, making her stomach growl. He threw ingredients into it, keeping the wok constantly moving, everything cooked hot and fast the way it should be.
"What would you do if I sold up and left?"
She blew air out her mouth. "Oh, I don't know. Stop eating noodles, I guess."
"Or learn to cook them yourself."
"Ha!"
She watched him add sauces and flavour, drop in the noodles, a master of his own trade. Within minutes she had a steaming bowl of them in front of her.
"Here. Because I've not seen you in so long," he said, pouring her a small glass of sake.
"I shouldn't really," she said, throwing it back. It was how it should be – served warm. "I've got a meeting with the boss."
"Boss can wait. Eat."
She went to pay him and he backed off, shaking his head. "Do not insult me. Eat."
Before Chang could argue, he had turned his back to her and started talking to another customer. To her knowledge, she hadn't once paid for them.
She used the chopsticks and slurped the noodles up, loving the rich flavour, the hit from the chilli. It was so close to what her Mother had knocked up on Friday nights.
"Excuse me," a man said as he took the stool next to her.
"No worries," she said, shifting up a bit to make room for him.
"I've been paid to find you."
Chang looked at him. She instantly recognised him as from one of the colony worlds. His attire, the dirt etched into the lines on his forehead from hard labour in unforgiving weather.
"Excuse me?"
"A mutual friend," he said in a low voice. "Paid me to give you a message."
"Go on."
He leaned in close to her ear. She could smell the stale sweat of the man, the stink of travelling a long distance to get there. What could possibly be so important as to warrant a message be handled in such a way? Why not use the Trans-Gal service?
It could be from Jessica.
The man's whisper made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.
"Will Ardai wants to find her. He knows she trusted you. He will make contact when the time is right. His ship is the Spectre."
She frowned. "What–"
The man was already up, heading off. She watched him go, then turned back to her noodles.
Suddenly she had no appetite.
* * *
Admiral Kerrick reviewed her crew choices, his only concern being Chief Kolvin's insistence of a droid Assistant Engineer. "I've never put much faith in mechanicals."
Chang had been prepared for his disapproval. "With all due respect, Admiral, Chip has served in the fleet for over twenty years. He's a highly-regarded member of Kolvin's team, and one he trusts to be his cypher down there while he's on the bridge. I'm trusting Kolvin's choice in this regard."
Kerrick pointed a finger at her. "If he malfunctions, it's on you, Captain."
"Of course."
"Hmmm. I'm not happy about it, but whatever. I know Kolvin's work, his attention to detail. He must have a reason to choose the . . . droid."
Chip, his name's Chip, you ignorant–
Kerrick made quick work of marking his signature on the data tablet and handed it back to her.
"Thank you, sir," she said, glad to have it over with.
Kerrick pinched the corners of his eyes, then ran a hand over his face.
Tired from all that plotting and scheming? Chang wondered.
"How is Kolvin getting along? I trust you're on track for departure?"
"Yes, Admiral. Of course, I don't yet know to where I'll be departing . . ."
He smiled weakly. "Of course. Your assignment will be to head into the Chimera Cluster and locate the Namarian vessel. Find it, alert the rest of the fleet, and then await instructions."
"I see."
"Any concerns?"
"None that spring to mind. Only that the Chimera Cluster is an intensely destructive region of space, sir. I hope that the Intrepid can withstand it."
Kerrick shrugged. "She'll have to. Back in the days of the Draxx war, Driscoll led the Manhattan in there for an extended period. I'm sure I don't have to remind you how successful that mission was."
"Do we have any intel on their position at all?" Chang asked.
The Admiral shook his head. "None at this time. What we do know is that they're still in there. They haven't come out. Whatever they're up to . . . it needs to be carried out in there, much to my annoyance."
"Will there be other ships joining us, sir?"
"Regrettably no. I'd have preferred a fleet to smoke them out, but I am not afforded that luxury. There is growing hostility at the Sjan border. Command has insisted that our forces be situated near there in the event that the Sjan decide to make an incursion. I'm afraid that, for the time being at least, you will be on your own, Captain Chang."
"Understood."
"Now, if you have no further questions I'm expecting a special envoy from the Klebin homeworld who is anxious to speak with me."
He threw her a half-hearted salute and she shot one back, then turned on her heel and left.
* * *
"Well, this is it," Chang said, looking at her carryall on the bed.
The bed we shared until this morning.
"Lisa, I told you. This is a big opportunity for you. And Captain King needs you to be in a position to help," Olivia Rayne told her.
"I know all of that. It doesn't make leaving you here any easier."
"It's easy for neither of us, but it's a necessity. We both know that woman is innocent. If it takes a little personal sacrifice to help her set everything right, I'm all up for that."
She reached out, took Chang's hands. Looked deep into her eyes.
"I love you," Chang said. "I'll miss you."
"You'd better," Rayne said, breaking into a grin.
Chang moved closer. Their lips almost touching. "Count on it."
* * *
Dr. Ira Vassili carried a cup of hot coffee into the briefing room aboard the Intrepid, the eyes of the other senior staff on him as he picked a seat. Chief Kolvin was not in attendance – Chang had, in fact, insisted that he not attend. The Intrepid was in the last stages of prep and she didn't wish for anything to derail it. Dr. Gentry sat at the table, nervously picking at the hem of his top, failing to make real eye contact with anyone else in attendance. Section chiefs from all over the ship were also present – those who could be spared, in any case.
Dana Oriz was busily reading a data tablet, her face lit from beneath by the glow of the screen. Ensign Alanna Gordon looked fresh-faced and unseasoned sitting among some of the other command crew, but that was how things went. Lieutenant-Commander Kyle Banks walked into the briefing room with a tablet under his arm and all eyes turned to watch him walk to the front.
Keep cool, he told himself. It was hard when all he could do was think of Chang's remark about filling Commander Greene's big shoes.
"Afternoon everyone. Thank you for carving out the time to come. The Captain will be along shortly."
He'd never much cared for standing in front of groups of people, let alone addressing them. It was, perhaps, partly the reason why he had excelled as a helmsman. There at the flight controls, one faced away from the remaining Bridge crew. Under the gaze of the universe. there was no room for embarrassment or bashfulness.
"As you know, we launch tomorrow. Far as I can tell, we are well on track. Does anyone have any issues, before the Captain arrives, that have not already been raised in one form or another?"
Dr. Vassili's arm went up into the air.
"Yes doctor?"
He sipped his coffee with a loud slurping sound. "There is no chair in my office."
"Right. Anything else more important to the operation of this ship?"
Vassili frowned. "A chair is not important? I am expected to stand the entire time?"
"If need be, yes. But I'll make a note anyway. Hopefully we can source you one before we leave," Banks said.
So far so good.
"Anyone else?"
"Yes," Dr. Gentry mumbled. "I am finding the onboard computer quite lacking."
"We're aware of the computer problems," Banks said. "I've been assured they will be rectified by the time we depart."
"We'll see then."
Banks cleared his throat. "Ensign Gordon? Have you been acquainting yourself with the helm?"
"Yes, sir. Everything looks familiar to me. I've spent some extra time in a simulator to prepare."
"Good job. Better to make your mistakes there than doing the real thing."
"Yes, sir."
"The coffee here is good," Dr. Vassili remarked.
"Uh . . . good."
The door opened and Chang walked in. They all stood, and Banks moved aside to allow her to take her place at the head of the table.
"Hello everyone. How about we dim the lights in here and find out what's in store, huh?"
Banks ran a finger down the lighting controls, lowering them till they were barely on at all. A holographic star chart appeared above the surface of the table, turning slowly.
"Is anyone familiar with this volatile region here?" Chang asked, zooming in until the smallest speck on the chart had became an expanse of nebula and stellar material that spanned entire systems.
"The Chimera Cluster," Dr. Gentry said.
"Very good," Chang said. "That is where we're headed. It's believed that the Namar are still in there, following their conflict with the Defiant and subsequent escape. The Admiral cannot spare any more ships for this task, so we're heading in there to find them."
"How?" Dana Oriz asked.
"I've taken the liberty of collating all known data on the Chimera Cluster and sent it to your individual work stations. I am positive that we can reduce the areas of interest down to those that are the most possible. The Namar are hiding in there, somewhere. It's our job to locate them and report their position to command."
"Won't the Cluster severely impact our communications capabilities?" Banks asked.
"It will. Once we have found them in there, we'll use the Intrepid's yacht to reach the outer edge of the Cluster and make contact with command. That's the plan, anyway."
"A sound plan," Gentry said. "Are the shields of this vessel adequate against the radiation and interference inside the Cluster?"
"They should be, going from historical data."
At that, Dr. Gentry nodded. "Very well."
"Will there be assistance?" Banks asked.
"Not right away. The rest of the fleet are tied up facing down the Sjan. Until we find the Namar, we're on our own."
She shut the star chart down and Banks raised the lights. Ensign Alanna Gordon looked from one to the other, a smile on her face.
"Something to add, Miss Gordon?" Chang asked.
"It's just, I'm . . . I'm really excited about this mission!"
Chang glanced sideways at her second-in-command.
Are you being serious?
Banks simply smirked. His expression said: trust me.
"I hope it exceeds your expectations, Ensign. Everyone, dismissed."
* * *
The captain's chair awaited her. The Intrepid looked like a different ship to the one she'd visited before with Stationmaster Givens. Everything squared away where it should be, no evidence of chaotic activity on any deck. The Intrepid's core pulsed with power; she could feel it coursing through the deck under her feet.
She's a mighty ship. Smaller than the Defiant, perhaps, but her heart is just as big.
"Captain? Are you ready?" Banks asked from the tactical station.
Chang took her seat. It adapted to the shape of her body, made her feel more comfortable than she'd ever felt before sitting down. It helped ease some of her tension.
My first command. My big step into Captaincy. How quickly it's come, and by such terrible means. Banks may have big shoes to fill, but it should be Commander Greene sitting in this chair. Getting his shot. Only he's not here. He's another fallen comrade, a ghost of yesterday I have to try and forget about. This should feel so good, so right, but I can't help but feel uneasy at how it was achieved. Taking a promotion from the very man who implicated Jessica in the murder of Admiral Grimshaw. And what of her? She's out there, hiding, waiting for her moment.
The bridge waited on her order. Ensign Gordon sat looking at her from the helm console, her face expectant.
It seemed an invisible clock ticked around her.
What happens when Jessica comes out of hiding? When she brings all of this to a head? I may have to put everyone on the line again. I've already had to bid farewell to the woman I love.
What else – and who else – will I have to say goodbye to?
"Clear moorings. Chief, are we set?"
Kolvin nodded once, sharply. "Yes Captain. Ready and waiting."
"Dana, contact Station Control, tell them we are about to disembark."
"Aye."
The Intrepid experienced a slight jolt as Ensign Gordon released them from the station.
"We're free."
"Good. Bring the engines to one fifth power. Maintain midships. Ten degree yaw to starboard. Nice and gentle."
"Yes Captain."
The wind filled her sails, the engines purred to life and the Intrepid broke away from the station under her own power. Banks's replacement handled the controls smoothly and at ease, much to Chang's relief.
"The station bids us farewell," Dana reported.
"Noted," Chang said. "Doctor Gentry, any anomalous readings?"
"None," he said.
Banks checked his scanners. "We're clear on my board."
"Good. Helm, increase thrusters to half power. You may maneuver her as you wish, so long as we remain outbound."
"Yes Ma'am!"
Ensign Gordon tilted the ship left and right, performed a standard barrel roll, then took the ship up and over in a loop to her original heading without breaking a sweat.
"You handle her well," Chang told her.
"Thank you, sir."
"Now take her to full thrust. Banks, any systems nearby?"
He checked. "We're coming up on one. Uninhabited. The Bjud system. We'll be there in less than a minute if we hold our present course and speed."
"Excellent. There you go, Ensign," Chang said.
She got up from the captain's chair and made a slow inspection of everyone at their stations. It was strange to say, but she almost missed her old spot at the science station. It felt weird to have Gentry in her old role. She stood behind Ensign Gordon as they tore into the Bjud system. A gas giant loomed ahead of them. A pale sun shone behind it.
"There. Take us over the rings," Chang said, pointing to the bands surrounding the gas giant. "Let's skim across them."
"As you wish," the Ensign said, slowing them a little and adjusting their heading to accommodate. The Intrepid raced over the rings of the planet, the sun shimmering upon them as if they were bands of diamonds. "Captain, it's beautiful."
"There's beauty to be found out here, Ensign," Chang said. "When you have occasion to look."
She returned to the Captain's chair.
"The Intrepid handled within parameters inside the gravity well of the planet," Dr. Gentry reported. "We felt very little of the drag expected at such an encounter."
"That's what I hoped," Chang said. "Right, head for that sun, Ensign. Take us within an operable distance. It's no good riding a great horse if there's a chink in our armour."
"Aye," Gordon said, increasing thrust once again.
"You're wasting no time testing her out," Banks remarked.
Chang shrugged. "We'd better know if there are any serious flaws before we head into the Cluster."
On the viewscreen, the sun at the centre of the Bjud system drew closer, became bigger. It was a washed out green colour.
"I would recommend going no closer than twenty percent greater than the recommended operable distance from that sun," Gentry advised. "It has started to contract, increasing its potency."
"Understood. Take note of that, Ensign."
"Yes Captain."
"Approaching the sun now," Banks said.
Gordon turned the Intrepid, angled her to the side so they would pass the sun and not fall directly into it.
"And now," Gentry said. "We feel the sun's kiss."
The viewscreen dimmed against the harsh glare of the green fireball.
"Temperature of the hull about to exceed tolerance," Gentry said.
Chang looked at Banks. "Raise the shield."
"Captain, shall I alter our trajectory further?" Gordon asked.
"No. Maintain present course."
"Are you sure?" Ensign Gordon asked.
"Yes," Chang said. "And don't question my orders."
"Yes, Captain. Sorry."
Dr. Gentry looked up from his readouts. "The energy shield is effective in holding the temperatures at bay. They are above tolerance, but the hull is managing well."
"Just what I wanted to hear."
"Passing the sun now," Banks reported.
Gentry said, "Temperatures dropping."
"She will do," Chang said with a smile. "Dana, lay in the co-ordinates for the Chimera Cluster."
Dana worked. "Plotted."
"Helm, spool the Jump Drive. The last thing to test."
There was a noticeable whine from somewhere within the Intrepid as the greatest muscle she would ever use clenched, ready for use.
"Captain?"
Chang turned to look at Chief Kolvin. "Yes?"
"You do realise her paint job was brand new?" he asked, a glint in his eyes.
She couldn't help but let loose a little laugh. "Apologies, Chief. I'll be careful with her in future."
"We're ready, Captain," Ensign Gordon reported.
Here we go. No turning back now.
"Make the Jump."
The Intrepid leapt toward the stars.
6.
Normal space twanged back like an elastic band as the Spectre emerged from the Jump. The deep green swirls of the Thunder Reach Nebula provided a neutral backdrop to the slowly rotating superstructure that was Deep Space Supply Station Foxtrot. Several ships were moored around its circumference.
"Standard procedure, Kay," Shaw ordered.
"Yes sir," Kalar answered. The voice of the control officer aboard the station squawked from the speakers and the multilimbed alien made quick work of providing the station with a name and registry for the Spectre. It took a moment for the officer to run the name and number.
"It all checks out. You are cleared for dock."
Kalar navigated toward the nearest available bay, slowing the Spectre to match the rotational velocity of the station. Hooks connected with the underside of the Spectre to hold it in place. There was a slight jolt as the docking ring attached, then the airlock did the work of equalizing pressure between the two atmospheres so that they could safely pass from one to the other. Filtering units tested the air on Supply Station Foxtrot for any known viruses and pathogens.
"Ready?" Ardai asked.
"Let's do this," Shaw said, following his second-in-command off the bridge.
They walked down the corridor toward the airlock. Ardai watched Shaw check his weapon. "I take it by your insistence we pack heat that you're not looking to take another ass whooping any time soon."
"Damn straight," Shaw growled. "If I get set on again, there's only one thing they're getting. A hole above the neck where their head used to be."
"Do you expect trouble on here, skipper?"
They reached the airlock. "Don't know. I've just got that . . . gut feeling, I suppose."
"All the more reason to take Barbie with us."
He shook his head. "No. She'll draw attention. We need to play the part, get what we need, get out. Chances are they're still not here. But in any case, discretion is the key."
"Right you are."
Shaw slapped his hand against the control panel at the side of the airlock and it slid back, revealing the inside of the tube connecting them to the station. Ardai had noticed a darkness overshadow the Captain since they left Outland. Their mission, and their motivation in seeing it through, visibly weighed on him.
"Will–"
"Sir?"
Shaw's face was dark. "Whoever ordered these hybrid soldiers, then had them destroyed is behind the plot against Captain King and . . . and the assassination of Admiral Grimshaw. Those two were onto something, I feel it. It's the only reason the Admiral was killed. And the only reason she had to go into hiding. Our answers are here, Will, one way or the other."
Ardai nodded, once. There was nothing to say. Shaw headed through the airlock and Will followed.
* * *
"And you're from who?"
Captain Shaw shifted on his feet. "Star Marshal's office," he lied. "I already showed you my badge."
"I wasn't told you were coming," Commander Wilson said, eyeing them both suspiciously.
"We don't make a habit of announcing ourselves," Shaw said. "Mainly because we don't have to. Now are you going to make me get a warrant for the entire station?"
Wilson swallowed. "There's no need for threats."
"Yes there is," Ardai said. "You're holding up our investigation, Commander. Marshal Peace and I are tracking two extremely violent and deadly criminals. If they're here, and you're stopping us from doing our goddamn job, then there's a problem. A big one. You're obstructing the course of justice."
The Commander went white. "No, no, no. Please, gentlemen, I meant nothing by it."
Shaw laid a hand on Ardai's shoulder. "Marshal, I think the Commander is coming around."
"Good," Will spat, laying it on.
"I just have to be careful is all. There's a lot of sensitive information in these files," Wilson said.
Shaw laughed, breaking the tension in the Commander's tiny office. "We're no strangers to sensitive files, Commander. Do you have coffee here? The Marshal and I can get started. We want to be in and out. We don't want to get in your way."
"Sure! Sure! I'll go get some."
Ardai had already taken Commander Wilson's chair at his desk. He quickly accessed his computer terminal. He looked up. "I take mine black."
The Commander nodded, then scurried from the office leaving them to their work. When he was sure the Commander had gone, Shaw couldn't help but laugh. "Damn, Will. I thought our cover was blown."
"He knows Star Marshal's don't answer to anyone. Let alone a poor sap like him."
"Wilson's not a bad man," Shaw said, taking a seat as Will worked. "Just part of the system is all."
"Unlike us, out on the fringes," Ardai said. "Ah, here we are. Just looking now through the logs of every ship that's docked here . . . there!"
Shaw sprang up, looked over Will's shoulder at the screen. "XB136. When did it leave here?"
If they could determine where it had been heading, the trail was still hot . . .
"It hasn't."
"Huh?"
Will smiled. "It's still here, skipper. Moored at docking bay twelve."
Shaw slapped him on the back. "Good work."
* * *
By the time Commander Wilson returned, carrying two cups of coffee, the two Star Marshal's were already gone. He checked the general data display to see if their ship was still docked.
It was.
Hopefully not for long, he thought. I didn't like those two guys.
There'd been a new arrival in the time it had taken him to fetch the coffee. A small ship, small enough to land in the hangar beneath the station. Commander Wilson ran the registry, didn't get any hits or warnings from it. He shrugged and turned back to his work. He had two cups of good coffee to help him through it.
7.
XB136 was several minutes' walk away. Ardai contacted the Spectre, speaking into the comm. device on his wrist.
"Barbie, you there?"
"Here."
"Meet us at bay twelve. Bring Punk, too, if he's up for it."
"Understood. Spectre out."
Shaw glanced left and right. His hand rested on the weapon strapped to his hip.
"Tell me, Will, why did you say I was Marshal Peace?"
Ardai shrugged. "Popped into my head."
"I don't know . . ."
"What? The Commander didn't ask my name. I was going to say it was War. Then we'd be War and Peace. Surely, the coolest name for a dynamic duo such as ourselves."
Shaw shook his head in disbelief. "Seriously, Will, I don't know whether you're being serious sometimes."
"Neither do I."
They reached bay twelve. Still no sign of Barbie or Punk, but Shaw wasn't about to wait. He checked that the coast was clear, then accessed the security panel next to the airlock. He entered the skeleton key code that would allow him access to any ship on the station – unbelievably the code was the same for all stations, and a closely guarded secret. There were, possibly, only a dozen or so men and women who knew it. But there were no secrets beyond the reach of Shadow Force.
The dial on the front of the panel spun around, turned green, then beeped. The airlock opened for them to access the ship.
"Weapons out," Shaw said.
"Check. Do we wait for Punk and Barbie?"
Shaw had already crossed the threshold. "Negative," he said sternly, all business now. He took his gun off the safety, held it at the ready. "Cover me."
* * *
Will knew the configuration of the vessel; it was familiar to him the moment he and Shaw breached the inside. An older model – a Z5 class cargo ship. Red strip lighting illuminated the airlock, with a pressure door facing them, giving access to the rest of the ship.
"Stay close," Shaw ordered. "Shoot to stun."
"Right," Ardai adjusted the setting on his gun to comply with the order. When fired, it would emit a ghostly white beam of energy that would render its target unconscious.
Shaw opened the pressure door; it creaked on its hinges, louder than either of them would've liked. He stepped inside, covering all angles, treading carefully. Will followed suit, checking the same spots Shaw had, just to be sure. Nothing that end of the ship. Z5's had their airlock at the rear of the vessel – the advantage of having engines mounted on struts beneath the ship.
A steady hum came from the reactor, a broken light buzzed and clicked in the ceiling. Something dripped, steadily, somewhere. A broken pipe, perhaps. Ardai followed Captain Shaw along a passageway. They emerged into a large open space, filled with cargo containers of varying sizes. Pools of light cut through the dank darkness in there, but did little to fully illuminate the cargo bay.
Something joined the general ambient noises within the ship. It was unmistakable.
Human speech.
Too low to discern what was being said, but it was undeniably human. Somewhere farther ahead, past the haphazard array of storage containers and crates. Shapes moving. Shadows.
Will looked at Rick Shaw for the nod. He gave it. Will cut left, Shaw to the right. They came around the jumble of cargo, weapons aimed at the hulking forms standing together whispering. The light did not hit their faces, but it showed the rest of them in enough detail. They were over six feet tall, pale skinned, completely bald. Muscles bigger, more defined, than any Will had ever seen on a man. As Will and Shaw presented themselves, the two hybrids' heads snapped about.
"Stay where you are!" Shaw yelled.
The two soldiers looked at one another, something passing between them that did not need words. Will tensed, knowing they were about to try something. Shaw didn't wait.
He fired his gun at the one closest him, the stun beam enveloped the hybrid in a faint cocoon of energy, then dissipated.
No effect.
"Oh, crap!" Will said, backing off, fumbling with the gun to set it higher.
Shaw looked at his own weapon as if it had sprouted wings and horns. He looked up as the hybrid he'd shot barrelled into him, sending him flying across the hangar, into a plastic container that shattered inward as he hit it. The hybrid on Will's side lunged for him, he sidestepped out of the way, managed to level his gun before the giant knocked the weapon clear out of his hand.
It grabbed the front of his clothes, lifted him clear off the ground, held him high. Was about to make him one with a nearby bulkhead when an energy weapon discharged behind them all, striking it clear in the chest. The flesh there melted away with a sizzling sound leaving a ruinous hole. The hybrid dropped him, then dropped to the floor itself, dead.
Will spun around, head reeling, and saw Punk standing next to Barbie, a rifle at the ready. The remaining hybrid made for the exit, grabbed Punk's rifle as he was about to fire it, flicking it away into the shadows. Barbie grappled with the giant soldier, the two of them roughly the same shape and size, both grunting with the effort of holding back the other.
Shaw got to his feet, staggered, then regained his balance. He looked at the dead hybrid on the floor, saw Will looking the worse for wear. He watched as Barbie wrestled the surviving hybrid – and even for a Mantipor it was a struggle.
Shaw raised his gun. "Stop!"
The two continued to struggle. Shaw fired into the ceiling over the hybrid's head. That brought everything to a halt.
"I don't want to kill you, but I will if I have to."
Now he saw it's face. It was a man, just a man. Heavily built, bred, and trained for battle. The hybrid's skin was white, entirely without hair. Not even eyebrows. In that respect, he looked alien. And yet . . . the eyes were the same as any man Shaw had ever come across.
"Please. Stop. Don't make me do it."
The hybrid appeared to understand at first, then it threw itself back against Barbie, causing the Mantipor to stumble for a moment. It was enough to grant the hybrid an escape route. Shaw shot at it as it fled, the energy beam sizzling against the wall and missing the hybrid. It dove out the door.
"Come on!" Punk yelled, leading the pursuit.
Shaw looked at Will. "Stay here. Preserve the evidence."
"But–"
"No time to argue! Barbie, you're with me!"
"Yes boss," the Mantipor said.
With that, Will was left on his own as the other three pursued the fleeing hybrid. He looked around. What had been a scene of complete chaos seconds before was now quiet. The air smelled of discharged weapons, burnt metal, and there was a dead hybrid on the deck with a hole in his chest.
"Great."
8.
The pale giant burst out onto the walkway, knocking two station crew out of the way. Punk led the pursuit, his weapon held at the ready. Shaw followed close behind, Barbie at his side.
Punk fired the stun beam, it struck the bulkhead above the hybrid. It ducked, glanced back, and cut to the left, down a long corridor.
"Don't lose him!" Shaw yelled, already feeling the burn from running so fast. He would've been the first to admit he didn't get as much exercise as perhaps he should.
"Don't worry about us," Barbie chuckled, slinging her weapon from her shoulder and taking a pot-shot at the hybrid. It went wild and missed by a mile. "You worry about catching a breath."
"Funny," Shaw puffed. "For a girl, that is."
"Ouch."
Punk skidded to a halt. He unclipped a grenade from his belt, bit the pin off of it and threw the projectile in a wide arc. It bounced in front of the white goliath before he could get to another junction. He stopped, looked down at the grenade, then it exploded in a shower of white fizz. The thing threw its hands up to protect its face, but it was too late. The stun grenade worked instantly.
If the hybrid proved impervious to a regular stun beam, the same was not true of a stun grenade.
It dropped to the deck like a dead fish, eyes dilated and wide.
Punk laughed, holstering his weapon and approaching the fallen hybrid with the casual demeanour of someone taking a stroll on the shore. "Leave it to little ole me."
"I'll be damned," Shaw said. "Get him bound, Barbie. We don't want him getting loose on the way to the ship. I just hope that cell's gonna hold him."
"It'll hold him," she snarled. "Or I'll break both his legs."
Shaw ensured his weapon was back on the safety. "Just what I like. A lady who knows how to play rough."
A blinding red flash of light burst all around him. His ears rang. Shaw clutched his head, staggered to the side. He hit the wall, felt his feet slip out from under him, dropped to the deck, then all was blackness.
* * *
Will didn't often go against a direct order, but on this particular occasion, he couldn't just stay on the ship with the dead body while the rest of the team hunted down the remaining hybrid. He cocked his gun and followed the sound of weapons fire, then the undeniable report of a stun grenade going off. Will ignored the shocked looks of station personnel as he sprinted past, headed toward the commotion rather than away from it.
He knew Punk would've been the one who dealt out the grenade – the Alpor took any opportunity he could to blow things up.
Will smiled as he turned the corner, knowing he'd see that everything was under control. The hybrid would be detained. His teammates in control.
Red light filled his vision and he dove to the side, crashing against a bulkhead with his arm over his eyes. His head felt like it had been drilled, yet he wasn't knocked unconscious.
A paralyzing charge.
He moved forward, pleased to feel his legs working beneath him. He peered about, through bleary vision, walked around the corner to find Punk and Barbie lying on the floor next to the bound hybrid. But directly in front of him, an armoured mercenary shone a containment shroud over the inert form of Captain Shaw. The glowing blue net held Shaw up off the deck, where he floated, completely incapacitated.
"Hey!" Will yelled, trying to aim his weapon.
The mercenary turned. The armour covered his head and face, too. On his chest he had a claw holding a sun painted on in crude red strokes. Before Will could fire off a shot, the mercenary had flung a small sharp object at him from his wrist. It stuck in the side of Will's neck. He pulled it free, looked at it.
A dart.
Oh no . . .
His eyes rolled into the back of his head and tumbled to the deck. Will blinked, realised he couldn't move his arms or legs. He looked up at the ceiling and the mercenary came to stand over him.
"Be still, kid." He chuckled, shaking his head, then walked off, the floating form of Shaw trailing behind.
By the time station security had arrived, Shaw and his kidnapper were gone.
* * *
The Spectre undocked from the station. Will checked the cell that held the hybrid and, confident the brute was secure, headed for the bridge. The body of the other hybrid had been moved to the cold storage unit of the ship and frozen for transport. He'd ordered that XB136 be held until further notice, sealed from the rest of the station by security.
"Kay, Punk, Barbs," Will said, walking onto the bridge, where he'd told them to wait for him. "We need to get Shaw back."
"Amen to that," Barbie said. "What's the plan?"
"I've got one, but before anything else, we'll need some help. What I have in mind will solve two problems," Ardai told them.
"How so?" Punk asked.
Kalar sighed. "I have a bad feeling about this."
Will sat in the captain's chair. "Listen. This is what we're going to do."
9.
The Intrepid coasted at maximum thrust, no longer hurtling along at Jump speed. That close to the Chimera Cluster, it was not a good idea to race into it at Jump.
Dana looked up. "Incoming transmission."
"From whom?"
"Unknown. The registry doesn't correlate to anything in our records and yet they're contacting us directly."
Chang cocked an eyebrow. "Put them on."
"Intrepid, this is Will Ardai of the starship Spectre. To whom am I speaking?"
"Mister Ardai, this is Captain Lisa Chang."
"Greetings Captain. Did you receive my message?"
"I did. Received and understood. Where are you?"
"Off your port bow."
She looked to Banks. He shook his head. "Nothing there." Puzzlement dawned on his face as he watched his scanner. The Spectre seemed to materialise in front of his eyes. He looked up at Chang, dumbfounded.
"Do I have permission to dock, Captain? I'm afraid given the sensitive nature of what I have to say, I must talk with you in person."
"I thought as much. Please dock alongside. I'll meet you there."
"Thank you."
The line went dead. Chang got up, stood behind Ensign Gordon at the helm. "Once they've docked, come to a stop. Hold our position until my business is resolved."
"Understood Captain."
"Chief, you have the bridge. Banks, come with me. You'll want to hear this."
* * *
Ardai stepped out of the decontamination jets and shook her hand.
"Pleasure to finally meet you," he said.
"This is my second in command, Kyle Banks."
The two men shook.
Chang indicated a meeting room connected to docking control. She let them go in ahead of her, then ensured the room door was sealed shut. There was a small table in there, some chairs, a computer terminal.
"Back at the station, a man came to me with a message," Chang explained to Banks, to bring him up to speed. "It was from Mr. Ardai here."
"Just Will is fine."
"Okay. From Will. He wanted to find Jessica and knew I'd have an idea where she was. He said he'd be in touch when he could."
"And here I am," Ardai said.
"No offense, but how do you know you can trust him?" Banks asked. "I mean, he could be from Internal Intelligence."
"I am, technically. Sort of off the books," Ardai said. "Anyway, you can trust me. Me and Jessica go way back."
"I actually remember her mentioning you once," Chang said.
He looked surprised. "Really? What did she say?"
"Positive things."
"I take it you were more than friends," Banks said.
Ardai shrugged. "You know, ships that pass in the night and all that . . ."
"So, moving on," Chang said. "What can we do for you?"
"Knowing her, she wouldn't have disappeared without telling someone where she could be found," Ardai said, sitting on the edge of the table with his arms crossed. "Given the fact you've recently been promoted, and hand-picked your own command crew, I'm guessing you dobbed her in."
"Under her orders," Chang said defensively. "She told me to do it, I hated the idea, but I've never once said no to her."
"I never thought otherwise. But still, she knew you'd end up having your own command following that, so she must have wanted you on the inside, ready to help her. And all that means she trusted you, implicitly."
"I think that's a fair assumption."
"Good. Then you know why I've come to you. What clue did she leave?"
Banks looked to her, visibly unsure whether Chang should tell him.
Chang sighed. "Head for Zac'u IX. You'll find a facility there. Ask for a Doctor Caise. Apparently, she left some message there."
"I know you're trusting me," Ardai said. "Both of you. You have my word, I am on your side. I have Jessica's best interests at heart. I will find her, and I will help her clear her name."
"There's a lot at stake," Banks said.
Ardai stood. "I know. I'm with you, all the way. When I've made contact with her, I will contact you directly."
Chang watched him head for the door. "Good luck."
"Thanks. And to you both."
Banks waited until the door had closed behind him. "Are we right to trust him? He could still be working for Kerrick . . ."
"I don't know," Chang said. "I guess we'll find out."
* * *
"With the boss gone, you're in charge," Barbie said. "And I don't want to question you, but you're sure this is the way to go about it?"
Will nodded. "I'm sure. We find Jessica. Get her help in getting him back. Then we bring an end to this. Whatever this is."
"Course plotted," Kalar said. "All you have to do is give the word."
First they would have to head through the Kaseem Ring. In Will's mind it was a barrier to cross, a threshold that, once crossed, there would be no coming back from.
"Commander?" Barbie urged him.
Punk stood with his paws on his hips. "We're with you, mate."
Will smiled. "Do it, Kay."
* * *
Chief Kolvin looked up from behind the terminal. He'd managed to escape the bridge for the time being. His argument had been sound, of course.
"Due to the fact that we're headed into the Chimera Cluster, I think I'd be most useful in the actual engineering room. You know, rather than liaising from here," he'd said.
Captain Chang had agreed with him, sending him promptly on his way. When he got there, he found plenty to keep himself occupied.
"Chip!" he barked.
The droid turned to look at him. "Yes, Chief?"
"How long did you say this terminal has been out of service?"
"Four hours, twelve minutes, eighteen sec–."
"All you had to do was reconnect the power feed," Chief Kolvin told him, shaking his head. "None of you brain-waves could figure that one out, huh?"
"I do apologise," Chip said. "We have been preoccupied with monitoring the intermix chambers and Jump Drive coolant feeds. In future I will be more attentive."
"Alright, no need to keep saying you're sorry," the Chief said, getting up and pushing the terminal back into position. "I should commend you for prioritizing, I guess."
The droid's head cocked to one side. "I'm afraid I am not sensitive to flattery, Chief. However, thank you in any case."
"I don't know, I really don't know . . ."
* * *
It felt strange not to be in the pilot's chair, manning the helm. Kyle Banks sat in the captain's chair, wondering how things had wound up the way they had. It seemed that as a family they had been through so much – and now that family was all but separated.
This is my family now. He had to keep reminding himself of that fact. It will come in time, with serving together as a unit.
Still, he couldn't help but wonder at the way in which fortune dealt one a good hand every now and then. Of course, it had come at great expense. But Kyle Banks had faith that everything would resolve itself in the end. Things would change along the way – they'd changed already – but in the end good always conquers evil. There was no doubting that Kerrick and whomever he answered to were evil.
The Vice-President, he reminded himself. He was the one who denounced her as a criminal.
"Approaching the Cluster," Ensign Gordon reported.
"Slow to recommended speed. Follow the procedure for breaching the Cluster," he said. After Captain Driscoll's exploits in the volatile region of space that now lay before them, there was no need to employ guesswork. In the years since the Manhattan had chased the Draxx through the Cluster, the Union had made several attempts at unlocking all of its secrets, to varying degrees of success.
"Aye sir," the Ensign said.
"Prepare for communication cut-off," he told Dana at the comm. station.
The Intrepid breached the outer edge of the purple-peach nebula and Dana pulled her earpiece free. "That's it. Static."
He almost smiled. They were headed into the unknown, into untold danger for sure and yet . . . wasn't there something inherently nostalgic about heading into uncharted waters with nothing but your wits, a sturdy ship, and the company of your shipmates? All they needed was a star to steer by and a strong wind at their backs. What they had instead was one of the newest starships in the fleet with a beating heart of pure energy.
The Intrepid was a star unto herself.
* * *
Dr. Gentry steadied himself against the bulkhead as the ship trembled upon breaching the Cluster.
"Ooh, dear," he muttered, moving hastily toward his quarters.
In days of old, it would have been expected for everyone to attend to their posts and duties while they were inside the Cluster. But things were different now – it was understood that the crew would operate more effectively when they'd had the appropriate rest. The Chimera Cluster wasn't going anywhere. It'd be there when they all woke following their downtime.
The door opened and he locked it behind him. He disliked it when the ship became unstable, reminded him that he resided within an object that was capable of travelling millions of miles per second, prone to occasional turbulence from conditions in space, just as any plane would have bounced along on air pockets centuries before on Earth.
Dr. Gentry flopped onto his bed, still fully dressed, face down on the sheets. He felt exhausted – taking on the role of science officer had seemed so appealing at first, and yet it had so many down sides. So much different from working with a research team. The only real reason Gentry took the position was to remain in the loop, make sure he was at hand when Jessica needed him.
He closed his eyes, his breathing slowed. His thoughts turned to the cylindrical body they had termed the Enigma, before learning it's real name, the Amarax.
He liked Enigma better. Gentry found his mind wandering to it now and then, usually in situations like that, when he was getting ready to sleep. He'd lie looking at the ceiling, trying to shake it all off, but it was no good.
The sheer size of it. The scope. The purpose behind its construction.
It vexed him. It boggled his mind.
He wanted to know more.
* * *
Ira Vassili did what he could to promote the healthy lifestyles of his patients, of the crew he was tasked with providing medical expertise and advice. He considered himself a disciplined man, a strict man who could get through anything.
And yet still, he couldn't say fare-thee-well to his one true vice.
He smoked the cigarette, blowing the fumes straight into the waste disposal chute located inside the medical bay. It was a filthy habit, and they weren't easy to get. In fact, cigarettes were outlawed in most sectors where Union law held relevance. But there are always those who could get you what you needed.
Ira paid above the nose for his smokes, but it was worth it. There wasn't a bad day that couldn't be fixed by a cigarette.
"Doctor?" a voice called up the hall. It was one the service entrances, and he'd chosen it because no one would be there. Ira quickly stubbed his cigarette out on the wall and flicked it into the chute.
"Yes?"
"You're needed in the medical bay. Travel sickness."
The Russian rolled his eyes. All those years training under Dr. Clayton and here he was, sneaking a cheeky smoke when nobody was looking, getting called back because some unseasoned member of the crew couldn't stomach the ship moving a bit.
"On my way," he called back. He listened to their footsteps receding back the way they'd come, reached into his pocket for the cigarettes and lit another one.
"In a minute," he mumbled.
* * *
Her quarters were dark and quiet. Lisa Chang cleared her throat and addressed the screen at her personal terminal. "Initiate outbound. Station six. Olivia Rayne."
"Please provide Terran Colonist Identification Number," replied a female voice.
"Her TCIN is OR145DJK."
"One moment." The words ATTEMPTING OUTBOUND CONNECTION scrolled in a band across the screen. "Captain Lisa Chang, please be aware that due to the nature of your assignment, this communication will be monitored by Fleet Intelligence. Be mindful of sensitive information. Please confirm."
She leaned her head back, sighed, then faced the screen. Even here, in her personal quarters, she could not escape the trappings of command. It was something to get used to, she supposed. "Understood."
After a moment of blank screen, Olivia’s face appeared. "Lisa!"
"Hey."
"Where are you?"
"I can't say. You know. How're you feeling?"
Olivia pulled a face. "Lonely. Like you knew I would be. You?"
"I've not had time to stop yet, which is good. I'm sure it'll set in, though, when I do."
"Yeah."
"Listen, I wanted to talk to you now. We're about to go dark for a while. I don't know when I'll be able to contact you."
"Oh."
"Just part of the mission. You know how it is. Nothing to worry about. I didn't want to continue without getting a chance to talk to you," Chang said. "To tell you how much I love you, how much I miss you right now."
Olivia moved close to the screen. "Lisa, I love you so much. I am so proud of you, what you're doing. Know that I'll be waiting. I'll be thinking of you."
Chang watched her girlfriend reach out and place her palm against the screen. She did the same. It gave the illusion that across the gulf of space, they were separated by a sheet of glass, their hands almost touching. Chang tried not to think about the expanse of stars in between.
"Love you. Bye," Chang said.
"Goodbye," Olivia said and closed the channel.
Chang wiped an errant tear from the corner of her eye and shut the terminal down. Her quarters were just as dark and empty as they had been beforehand. She walked to the comm. panel on the wall and called through to the bridge.
"Bridge, this is the Captain. Continue with the mission. Take us into the Chimera Cluster."
"Yes Ma'am," Banks said and closed the channel.
Chang looked around. Her thoughts turned to Jessica King.
"So . . ." she whispered. "This is what it feels like."
10.
The sonic boom could only be caused by one of two things.
Jessica stepped outside, shielded her eyes from the persistent haze in the sky and looked up. Sure enough, there they were. Fanning out, the shock waves from something entering the atmosphere at speed caused the wispy cloud layers to part and in the midst of them an object headed for their location.
So it's not caused by a meteor then.
A few seconds more and she saw that it was a ship. Chief Gunn appeared next to her, looking up just as she was.
"Have we been found?" Gunn asked.
Jessica watched the vessel. It got closer. She recognised the configuration.
"Yes," she said, smiling. The Chief looked at her. "Yes we have."
Intrepid
1.
Jessica King woke with the sun in her eyes.
She turned over, her back to the window, and draped an arm across Will's chest. He stirred in that way she'd almost forgotten from back when they were dating – like a grizzly bear waking from months of hibernation. They had only slept in the same bed for a few hours, and yet it seemed as though he had always been right there next to her.
"Morning, sleepy head."
"God, is it morning already? I only just shut my eyes," he groaned. "You wouldn't believe how tired I am . . ."
She stifled a laugh. "Uh, I think I would, boy-o. Remember, I didn't get all that much sleep either."
"Oh," he smiled. "Yeah, I guess you would know something about that."
"Hmm." Jessica frowned at the scar on his chest – a diagonal gash from one side to the other. "That's a nasty scar. I didn't really notice it last night, in the dark."
"Ah, that. Yeah. Someone once told me all scars are a lesson well learned."
"Good words."
"I thought so too," Will said – he could almost hear Captain Shaw saying it in his gravelly, world weary voice. He propped himself up on an elbow so he could really look at her.
"What?" she asked.
Will reached out, played with one of the curls of her hair. "Just thinking."
"About . . . ?"
"Why we didn't do this sooner."
"I know what you mean."
"It took for everything to fall apart for us to get back together."
Jessica kissed him, on the chin. Then the side of his neck, rough with stubble. She didn't mind it. She moved to his lips, not some playful peck, but a validation that, despite everything, she was happier than she'd been in a long time.
"I missed you," he said, when she lay back, looking up at him.
"I missed you too. But we're together now."
"Yes, we are . . ." he looked away, to where the brightness of the perpetual day streamed through the window. It caught the dust motes in the air and made them dance. "We have so much to do."
Jessica reached out, ran a hand down his chest, across his scar again, fascinated with it. "Let's not talk about that right now," she said in a sleepy purr. "Let's have this moment, this morning, just you and me. Can we do that? Have this little piece of daydream before we have to go out there and deal with all the real stuff?"
Will kissed her. Held her in his arms. Kissed her again. "Of course."
* * *
To look at the sky, you wouldn't have thought that the planet could be so chaotic, but it was. One side continuously burned from exposure to its parent star while the other remained in darkness, permanently cold. In between, a strip of the planet all the way around on which life could survive. The Union had attempted a colony on Steria, to study the effects of having both perpetual night, and endless day on the same world. But conditions proved too extreme, there was no native life on the planet. Eventually, the Union declared their colony – nicknamed "Twilight Town" – a failure and left. But the colony remained as it was: a small, self-sufficient town in need of residents. When Jessica and her band arrived in the Captain's yacht they found a store with supplies, clothing, even weapons still inside. The accommodations weren't just survival shelters, but modular homes. Beds, windows, kitchens. Jessica had been wise to choose Steria, since the Union had abandoned it as a lost cause. No one would look for them. Indeed, she wouldn't have been surprised if they'd all but forgotten what they'd left on Steria.
That's what we are. The members of the Lost Cause Club. Jessica looked at her comrades in the town square. What had she said to Chang when they left the Defiant?
"We each have different paths. This is mine. The Chief, Hawk, and Selena are going to stick together. The rest of you will separate But perhaps . . . just perhaps . . . though we walk different routes, 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 on to. It's that hope that will keep me going."
If only she'd known how soon that would be. Their new friends from the Spectre had assembled in the town square too. The square was perfect for meetings, its official function from the time when the colonists had put it there at the centre of town.
Meryl Gunn sat on a low wall next to Selena Kyle, the former Chief of Engineering sipping at black coffee in an attempt to ward off a fog of sleepiness. Selena welcomed Hawk to join them, but the legendary pilot remained standing, twisting left and right, working out the kinks.
"Sorry darlin', but if I sit down, I might not get back up."
Evidently, he'd grown accustomed to the bunks on the Defiant, and was having a hard time adapting to those in the colony.
Her Mother, Dr. Kingston, sat on a chair, cup of hot tea in her hands, waiting for the meeting to begin. She had a look of serenity – Jessica wondered if Kingston had noticed Will's visit to her hut the night before.
Across from her, the members of Shadow Force who formed the crew of the Spectre: Barbie the gigantic Mantipor, standing with her arms crossed, immovable as a mountain, the Xantian pilot, Kalar. Will assured her he was the best around. Next to him stood Punk the Alpor, a force of nature in himself, despite his small stature. He sat on the ground, disassembling his weapon and cleaning all the pieces. Will squatted in front of him.
"Punk . . . is that really necessary right this minute?"
"Huh." The Alpor looked up. "Tell me, is it necessary we hold this bloody meeting?"
Will stood, turned to Jessica, and gave her an, I know, don't ask, look. She took that as her cue to get the meeting underway.
"Okay let's get started," Jessica said. She had had time to think about their next move, and she'd had to make more than a few hard choices. But, her plan would work. Of that she was certain. "The longer we wait, the more chance criminals have of driving the Union to a war it doesn't want, or need."
Dr. Kingston lifted her cup. "Hear, hear."
Jessica smiled. "So, the plan. You've all trusted my judgement so far. I'm hoping you'll trust me a while longer. The first order of business is to rescue Captain Shaw. He's currently being held by Matz on an asteroid called Amity. Will, just elaborate – how do we know for certain he'll be there?"
"It's well known that Matz has been after his hide for a while. Added to that, Matz has a history of capturing people in their debt and holding them at a secret location."
Meryl spoke up. "And we know where this location is?"
"Yes. In Shadow Force, we're privy to information you might not otherwise come by. There was a drive to uncover the secret dealings of a lot of the galaxy's criminal elements a while back. One such piece of information that was gathered concerned their holdings, premises, things like that. That's how I know Matz have such a place, and that they'll be holding Rick there," Will explained. "X has built an entire city out there, on the asteroid. You have to know them to go there, if you know what I mean. You can't just land on Amity, though we have a way around that. In that city, they have a prison for holding people like the Captain who don't pay up on time. If luck's on our side, that's where we'll find him."
"Unless they've killed him already," Barbie said.
"Or that, yeah," Will said.
"Okay. We have a plan in place. Once we find the schematics for the building, using the Spectre's database, we can adapt it suitably for the rescue operation," Jessica said. "Any questions so far?"
There were none.
"Once we have Captain Shaw back, we will need to break into two teams. One to kidnap Professor Dajani. The other to take our hybrid prisoner to Zac'u IX and have it analyzed, so that we can provide hard proof of its whereabouts. Doctor Kingston, you're confident that Dajani will testify as to the truth?"
"Testify? What, are we going to trial?" Meryl cut in before Kingston could answer. "I didn't realise that was part of the plan"
"How else, Meryl? After all, we did steal the Defiant. Furthermore, we're as good as terrorists right now. There will be a trial. We will have our moment to reveal the truth. But first we must get all of the pieces into position."
"Hey, what about the rest of 'em?" Hawk asked.
Jessica frowned. "Of what?"
"The hybrids. There's gotta be a big facility with 'em all in it. Growin', bein' trained."
"Correct," Dr. Kingston said. She sipped her tea. "Professor Dajani will be able to provide all the facts. An independent investigation will show him to be correct. But first we have to capture him, and I hasten to emphasise to everyone here that should we fail in acquiring him, it will be disastrous."
"Understood," Jessica said. "So–"
"Don't mind me butting in," Barbie boomed. "But I think I missed something here. You said you go to trial. I take it you mean yourself, and your crew?"
Jessica nodded. "Yes."
"Right. So am I correct in thinking your plan involves you handing yourselves in?"
That prompted worried looks from Meryl, Selena, and Hawk. Jessica had been hopeful she'd get away with addressing it later on. "Yes. It's the only way this will work, the only way we'll get an open, public trial."
"If the Captain says that's what we do, I'm with her," Selena said.
"Count me in," Hawk said.
Meryl shrugged. "You know my answer."
Jessica made eye contact with each of her companions in turn. "What we are about to do isn't simply about clearing our names, or punishing Admiral Kerrick and the Vice President for what they've done. It's about the Terran Union. Having our voices heard. Making a difference. We can stop an illegal army from being created, stop a potential war, but most of all," she sighed, paused for a second. "We can honour Admiral Grimshaw's life, so that it was not ended in vain, so that his death has a positive influence, in pushing us to reach for the truth."
Will looked at her, eyes glassy with emotion. "Amen to that."
2.
If you got high enough, Jessica mused, you'd be able to look in one direction and see night, then look the other way and see endless day.
As it was, the middle of both seemed just about right.
For those living in Twilight Town, there could never be sunset or sunrise. For what seemed to be endless daylight, it was slightly subdued, and Jessica had to remind herself that they were slightly closer to the day side of the planet than the night, otherwise the colony would have been too cold.
Doesn't stop the clouds from gathering, she thought, looking to the horizon where they bunched together in ominous, grey banks.
"I brought you a drink," Ardai said, joining her on the roof of one of the shelters.
She looked at the cup. Black coffee. "Thanks."
"I'm afraid there wasn't anything stronger."
"That's alright," she said, clinking her cup against his. "It's all about the company anyway, huh?"
Will nodded and said, "That it is."
"Looks like a storm coming. They can get nasty here."
"All the more reason to get moving," Will said. "If Rick is alive, I don't know for how much longer. I'd rather get going sooner than later."
"We'll get him, Will," she said, reaching out and taking his hand. "I promise."
"We've gone over those plans three times now. It's the best chance we have. Hopefully we'll cause so much chaos they won't know what's happening."
"Fingers crossed."
There was a flash and then the rumble of thunder. They both looked away, to the horizon, where the storm was building.
* * *
"I swear you're bleedin' cheatin'," Punk said, shaking his head in disgust. Barbie simply chuckled, scooped the cards up and shuffled again, dealing them out with the same fluid movements she'd demonstrated the last six times. Punk had lost every game so far. For someone with gigantic hands, Barbie could have been a piano player.
"It's called skill, short stack," Barbie said. "Something you could use a bit of."
"Don't count me out just yet. And stop commentin' on me height. Hurts me feelin's. You won't like it when I wipe the floor with ya."
"Yeah sure, shorty, let's just keep playing till we hit that magic double figure, huh? I'm here all day long."
Punk shook his head. "No respect . . ."
Kalar slid past, headed for the drinks dispenser.
"Thirsty my man?" Barbie asked the Xantian.
"I have a serious craving for sugar and bubbles," Kalar said. "I think I'll be skipping the diet soda today. It's a full sugar day, I think."
The lights in the canteen dipped suddenly as lightning struck the Spectre. They regained their usual illumination within seconds, however, the effect was enough to shock. Barbie looked up. "Good thing we're insulated," she grumbled.
Punk guffawed. "Pah! I once saw a ship take a direct hit from a plasma storm. Think this is bad? That ship got blown in half. One hit, that's all it took. It was like an axe breaking a bit of wood, that. Bloody spectacular!"
The Mantipor rolled her eyes. "Again with the war stories. Ready?"
"For what?"
"Another whooping, that's what. Come on, don't back out on me now. Not when you're about to come into your own, like you keep telling me."
Kalar shimmied past again, his tentacles held high, a can of cold soda in each. "I'll be on the bridge if you need me."
Punk watched him go, then turned back to Barbie. "I've a feelin' I'm out of my losin' streak now, matey. I feel it in me fingers."
"You don't have fingers."
He waved a paw at her. "It's one and the same when I'm counting your credits."
* * *
Rain lashed down on Twilight Town.
"Damn!" Hawk said, following Selena inside. "Cats and dogs or what?"
She ran her fingers through her wet hair. "I know, but I kinda like the rain."
"What's there to like about it, darlin'? It's one of the things I like about being up in space. No bad weather to contend with."
"Precisely why I like it. It's normal. I miss rain, thunder, lightning. I miss the wind, sometimes," she dried her hair with a towel. "Does that sound silly?"
Hawk shrugged. He turned on the heater in their quarters, and soon it was toasty warm. The rain pounded the roof, ran down the windows in sheets. Lightning crashed around them, close now as the storm moved across Steria. It grew dark outside.
Selena sat on the edge of their bed. It was simple, not too comfortable, but it was theirs. They were outlaws together. "Do you think everything will work out?"
"Sure," Hawk said. "If I know the Cap, she'll come out on top. She always does."
Selena looked at the heater, glowing bright red on the wall. "I hope so."
"Will you be alright here while we're gone?" he asked her.
She looked at him in false outrage. "Mister Hawk, what are you implying? That I need a man to feel safe?"
"Well . . ." he said, hardly prepared for the hard thump she gave him on the arm. "Ow! Maybe I shouldn't worry, 'cause ya hit like a man."
She spent the next five minutes chasing him, the pair of them laughing like children as she tried to follow the hit with a second.
* * *
That evening, the sky regained its composure, the clouds thinned out, and the storm passed. Though to call it evening would suggest that the sun had set, or was in the process of doing so.
"Are you coming?" Will asked from inside the Spectre. The Captain's yacht would remain on Steria until Captain Shaw was free. Dr. Kingston remained behind until their return, along with Selena Kyle. Once they returned with Shaw, the plan was for Kingston, Hawk, and Barbie to leave and capture Professor Dajani.
Will stood at the top of the ramp.
Jessica started up, stopped halfway, and turned back. "Do you think they'll be alright here on their own?"
"It's safer than taking Dr. Kingston with us," he said. "And Selena will keep her company."
He didn't have to remind her of Dr. Kingston's importance. They couldn't risk her being injured or killed in Captain Shaw's rescue. Although she was Jessica's Mother, Dr. Kingston was just too vital to their plans.
Jessica nodded, continued up the ramp, and stood next to Will as he retracted it, sealing them inside the Spectre. "I know it's silly, I . . . I wouldn't tell the others this, not in a million years, but . . ."
Will held her, softly, by the shoulders. "I know. You've just got your Mother back. You don't want to lose her all over again. And you won't."
"Thanks for, well, being here I suppose. I don't know what I'd do without you all."
"Come on, don't get mushy. We've got a gambling swine to rescue," Will said, heading for the bridge. "And we've gotta spring him from a jail in the middle of a criminal city. What could possibly be challenging about that?"
3.
A lifetime before, the Chimera Cluster had been the theatre of war for Captain Driscoll and the crew of the Manhattan. Hunting down the Draxx, taking whatever steps they deemed necessary to give the Terran Union an advantage in what had proved to be a tiring conflict. Now, decades later, the war with the Draxx had been consigned to history. Yet the Chimera Cluster had a part still to play.
Captain Lisa Chang gazed out at the gigantic nebula,a maelstrom of peach and purple gases swirled together. There were star systems inside. Asteroid fields. Places where planets might have been, millennia before, that were now endless stretches of debris.
There was danger, too. For not only was the Chimera Cluster a volatile region of space in itself, it was once more host to a phantom enemy, hiding within its midst. The Amarax . . .
"It should be easy to find something that big," Captain Chang said, almost to herself.
Chief Kolvin stood next to her, hands clasped behind his back. "Indeed. You would think so, wouldn't you?"
She turned to face him. The observation deck was otherwise empty. Chang kept the lights off – it made for an entirely different experience, sitting in the dark, coasting through space. Thoughts had a way of finding their own voices . . .
The Gobol engineer regarded the vista beyond the Intrepid with his strange eyes.
"My apologies for getting you to meet me here, Chief," Chang said. "I know it's your downtime."
"On the contrary. While we're on assignment, I do not take downtime."
"Well, as much as I appreciate it, I'd prefer it if you did."
"I will . . . consider it, Captain."
"Good. I can't have my Chief of Engineering sick with exhaustion."
She led him to a row of comfortable chairs and asked him to take a seat. A call went out on the overheads and Chang hesitated, listening in case it was for her. It wasn't. Kolvin shifted in his seat.
"Captain, what was the purpose of our meeting here?"
"I wanted to speak with you privately, Chief. As you know, our mission is to locate the enemy vessel and call it in. But there is a possibility we will have to engage the Namar in battle."
"Yes."
"I don't know if you've read Captain King's report on what happened when the Defiant fought them?"
"I have, in fact. It was quite a battle, if memory serves."
Chang pictured Commander Greene and her heart sank. "There were a lot of losses."
"Regrettable."
"Yes, and in many cases avoidable. I've been giving thought to what might happen if they engage the Intrepid. I don't want to be caught unawares. The Defiant had to stand her own against one ship. We may have to face hundreds. Those are odds I don't care to consider."
Chief Kolvin cocked one bushy white eyebrow. "What is it you want to ask me, Captain?"
"If we have to find them, and have no choice but to fight, I want to have a plan in place to disable the Amarax, if not destroy it."
Kolvin considered. He ran a hand over his bald, bobbly scalp. "The sheer size of the vessel . . . I do not know how we would accomplish it, Captain. We could fire everything we have at it and I doubt there would be any effect. It would be tantamount to throwing a rock at a moon."
"My plan will involve destroying it from the inside, Chief."
He laughed a little. "I'm sorry, I do not follow."
"Well, you see, when the Amarax launches its fighters and ships, it extends into three separate cylinders. This leaves its innards open to attack."
"I don't understand why they would incorporate such a design flaw."
"Remember, the Namar saw the Amarax as a home for their sleeping saviours. We consider it a mobile battle station. But for them, it is so much more than that."
"The concept isn't new," Chief Kolvin said. "The O'Neill Cylinder dates back to the earliest days of Terran space flight. Unfortunately, you humans never had the resources to construct one on your own. And of course, by the time you had the capabilities to mine the gas giants for their precious elements, first contact with the Hakim had already been made."
"You know a lot of Terran history."
The Chief shrugged. "I consider myself widely read."
"I'll make a mental note of that for future reference. So, my thinking is that we will get in close with a fighter, and fire directly into the innards. Targeted correctly, using the data we compiled when we were aboard, we should be able to disable it long enough to get them to back down," Chang told him.
"I see."
"I want you to rig several warheads into one, Chief. We will probably get one shot, and if we're in that position, I want it to count. It needs to pack a massive punch. And this project needs to remain a secret. It is entirely against protocol given the risks involved. I, of course, will take full blame if something goes wrong."
"Of course I'll take the proper precautions, but there is always the tiniest fraction of risk involved in tampering with warheads, as you are more than aware. So to be clear, Captain, you want me to make you a retro-fitted torpedo?"
Chang shook her head. "No. Different to that." She smiled. "Chief . . . are you familiar with something called a 'sticky bomb?'"
* * *
Lieutenant-Commander Kyle Banks felt the deck shudder under his feet as the Intrepid courted another patch of charged particles, and experienced the same trepidation he had since they'd entered the Cluster. Even with their energy shields at maximum strength, the effect of the Chimera Cluster remained strong enough to make the ship literally shake along its axis.
"Shields holding?" he asked from the Captain's chair.
Dr. Gentry looked up from his station. "For the ninth time, the shields are fine. Which is more than can be said for your nerves, Lieutenant-Commander."
He did not reprimand the doctor; how could he when the man had a valid point? "It's different being at the helm when it's like that," Banks said.
"It is akin to turbulence, nothing more."
Alright for you to say, you old quack, Banks thought.
Ensign Alanna Gordon peered back over her shoulder. "I get what you're saying, sir. Down here you feel the vibration in your fingertips. It seems to resonate in the helm, makes the experience of piloting the Intrepid a tactile one. I know I sound foolish saying this, but I actually kind of like it."
"Perhaps we should swap positions," Banks mumbled.
Ensign Gordon shook her head. "Not for all the tea in China, sir. I'll take the helm over a command position any day."
I'm starting to wonder if I wouldn't mind my old job back.
"Doc, anything coming up we should know about?"
"Not on my scanners, no. The Lieutenant may be better equipped in this regard."
Dana Oriz shook her head, eyes still on the star chart before her. "Nothing on here, sir. The Manhattan did a pretty fair job of mapping what they could. We have quite a good idea of when we're about to hit something. But there's nothing like that, on here at least, for a while yet. Just endless nebula."
"Keep monitoring," Banks told her. He turned back to Gentry. "Any sign of Namar activity?"
"Nothing thus far."
This was what he didn't like. It's all a waiting game. We coast through, looking for a sign that may not come. Treading water until we can do something constructive.
Captain Chang strode on to the bridge. "Anything to report?"
"Not yet," Banks relinquished the Captain's chair and took his seat at the tactical station. "Where's the Chief? Engineering?"
"I'll tell you later," Chang said, wearing a strange expression. "He's currently preoccupied with something."
"Understood. So what do we do? Fly about aimlessly and hope we strike gold? The Cluster is pretty big, Captain."
"I had a thought about that."
"Oh?"
"Yes. It's time we went about this systematically. In both senses of the word. Dana, lay in a course for every known star system in the Cluster."
Dana's fingers raced over the controls to the navigational systems. "Working on it. The course does not differ radically from the one we are following at present."
It appeared on the forward viewscreen. Chang studied it for a moment. Dana was right – it wasn't all that different. "Do it. Helm, alter course to acommodate."
"Yes, Ma'am."
"What's the plan?" Banks asked.
"The Namar are hiding here. It would make sense for them to find a planet or moon that they can strip the resources from, if necessary. Doctor Gentry, would you agree that is a fair assumption to make?"
"I would, and for the record, I wholly back your plan. A scientific, methodical approach is best."
Chang looked surprised. "Well, there's a first for everything . . ."
The Intrepid altered heading, hardly enough to notice. "New course accepted," Ensign Gordon reported.
"Excellent. How long until we arrive at the first system?"
"One hour, ten minutes," Dana said.
"So we'll go from one to the other, see if they're hiding out," Banks said. "It's sound. Surely we'll have more luck that way than just heading in a random direction and crossing our fingers and toes."
Chang looked ahead. She thought of the wild goose chase they'd been consigned to pursue. Gentry was right – a methodical approach. One system at a time, slowly working their way through the Cluster until they eliminated each one. Hopefully until they zeroed in on Cessqa. "Well, without an ion trail or a Jump vector to follow, this mission is going to be like finding a toothpick in a haystack. And I don't think we have a whole lot of time."
4.
"Here we are," Ardai said. He looked up from the Captain's chair as Jessica came around to the front. "Welcome to Amity! Despite what the word means, I don't think we'll find many friends here."
"The first time I've seen an asteroid with an atmosphere," Jessica said.
The Spectre slowed to a relative halt from exiting the Jump, its cloaking device now fully activated. "Welcome to Amity," Kalar announced, his tentacles pulling levers, sliding switches, keeping the Spectre in place. The technology that rendered the entire ship invisible to both sight and sensors proved such a drain on energy resources that it could only be used before or after a Jump. To do both would require two reactors, and the Spectre was barely large enough to house one.
The potato shaped asteroid was smoother than most, as large as a moon, and covered in craters. A hazy atmosphere clung to its surface as it rotated, in orbit of a deep green gas giant. At one end, a city shone like a cluster of diamonds. Small, square structures and tall skyscrapers stretched up into the haze. The remaining surface appeared to be devoid of inhabitants.
"A reactor at the core of the rock powers a containment field, holding the atmosphere in place. Even with regulated gravity and a steady orbit, it would soon lose what air it had if the containment field wasn't in place," Ardai explained. "The city itself isn't just the property of Matz but a conglomerate – for lack of a better word – of gangster types. It's a haven for them."
"You know a lot about it."
He shrugged. "It's our job, Jess. These types of things are getting more and more common, believe it or not. The criminal underworld loves them because, let's be honest, who gives a damn about this nameless lump of rock orbiting this inhospitable planet? I've known them to burrow inside an asteroid, which is pretty cool. Or float in the upper atmosphere of a gas giant. One, on Castillion VI, was attached beneath the icy crust of the planet to hide it."
"The galaxy is full of rocks and such," Jessica admitted. "It's easy to get lost. I mean, look at us hiding from the Union at an old Union colony. In this case, I don't think I've ever even heard of this system."
"I'm not surprised. There's thousands of systems just like this. A weak sun, surrounded by gas giants, asteroids, nothing of value. They're more common than small change."
Kalar turned around. "When the Union surveyed these systems in the early days, they marked the ones that had something to offer, and simply catalogued the others."
"So the containment field," Jessica paced slowly as she spoke. "Will we be detected when we cross it?"
Ardai nodded. "Yes. They'll register that something passed through the field. Then they can triangulate our location, which wouldn't be good. But I have a way around that."
Her eyebrows rose in surprise. "Yes?"
Ardai spoke into the comm. "Punk, get up here."
A moment the later the Alpor walked onto the bridge. "It time?"
"Sure is."
"Kay, you ready?"
The Xantian turned back to the helm. "Just give the word."
"Okey dokey," Punk said working the controls of one of the stations. His paws flew back and forth so quickly Jessica found it hard to keep up.
"You see, hacking is speciality of his," Ardai whispered.
"Hacking?"
The Alpor looked up. "Do you wanna give the word, mate?"
"You've got it. Shut 'em down, Punk."
Jessica wasn't sure what to expect – the issue of the containment field had never been mentioned when she and Will were planning the operation.
The asteroid looked completely normal at first. But then she saw the lights go out in the city, one at a time, like candles being snuffed out with a strong breath.
"Take us down, Kay!" Ardai ordered. The Spectre lurched forward, its engines roaring. The Xantian took the ship toward the asteroid, aimed for a crater just outside the darkened city. Closer to the surface, the gas giant truly dominated the sky, its green glow spilled out across the rocky face. Kalar took them about in a circle, getting rid of excess speed, using the asteroid's artificial atmosphere to help the braking process. He brought the Spectre to a level hover and slowly lowered them down into the crater.
"Okay, Punk, give them their power back."
"That's what you did," Jessica said. "Hacked their power network. But what about the atmosphere? What stopped it floating away?"
"A small percentage of it already has," Kalar chimed in from the helm. "Nothing their atmospheric compensation units won't be able to handle." A sharp jolt ran through the Spectre as it settled on the ground, and Kalar shut off her engines and thrusters.
"They have power," Punk said. "While I was at it, with their power grid down, I took the liberty of hacking their security systems. We can shut it all down the moment we decide to make a move."
"Good work. Carry on with what you were doing, I'll give the word when it's time to go," Will said.
Punk left the bridge. Jessica smiled. "That was well played. I wonder what other tricks you have up your sleeve."
He winked at her. "You'll just have to wait and see. We've still got to get from here to the city, and from there, locate the building they're holding Shaw at and break in. This is the easy part. What follows . . . that's gonna be tricky."
5.
Barbie descended the ramp first, followed by Will, then Punk. Kalar remained aboard the Spectre, as usual. His own part in their plan relied upon him being able to fly the Spectre away from Amity the moment they were aboard.
Hawk stood next to Jessica, rifle in hand. She looked at him, noticed the kataan in its holder.
"Going fencing?"
He looked as if he were about to ask just what she was talking about, then he looked down and smiled. "Well, ya know. Might have a couple of watermelons need slicin' or somethin'."
"Let's hope you don't have to use it," Jessica said, heading down the ramp.
Meryl Gunn looked strange carrying not just one, but two firearms. "Is that all you're taking, Hawk?" She stomped down the ramp behind Jessica.
Hawk watched her go, regarded his rifle as if it suddenly were no longer adequate. "Hey, uh, is this not enough?"
"We all set?" Will asked at the bottom. Looking back at the Spectre, there was only the inside of the ramp, and the exit like a gaping hole in the side of the ship. The rest remained invisible, completely see-through thanks to the cloaking technology. "Damn if it doesn't look like you just walked out of the fourth dimension."
"Very funny," Jessica said.
Once Hawk was down, Ardai spoke into his wrist unit. The ramp retracted back inside and the Spectre literally disappeared in front of their eyes.
Jessica looked about. Aside from the haze, it was hard to tell that there was a breathable atmosphere on the asteroid. It carried a slight greenish tinge from the overbearing gas giant it orbited but, apart from that, was invisible as the Spectre. She took a deep breath of it – cold and slightly metallic – but definitely breathable. It was a strange feeling, being able to breathe in what appeared to be an airless vacuum. Especially without a suit.
"Right. We all know the plan," Ardai said. "Meryl, you're with Barbie. Punk, you're with Hawk. Get into your positions and wait for my signal. And try not to get shot."
Barbie cocked her head to one side. "I'm not so sure it's a good idea going in there the way you are."
"What?" Will asked, confused. "We went over this again and–"
"I mean, with just that little pistol of yours," Barbie said.
Meryl elbowed the Mantipor in the ribs. "Are you saying he's only got a little shooter?"
It took Barbie a moment to catch up, but then she was laughing, a deep hearty bellow. "Very good!"
"Bunch of jokers . . ." Will said, shaking his head as he turned to face Jessica and found her laughing along with them. "You too?"
"I'm sorry. Even I have brought a bigger gun than you."
"Listen, it's not the size that matters. This pistol looks small, but trust me when it goes off you won't believe it."
That started Meryl off again. "Yeah. I'll bet!"
Jessica shook her head. "Are you sure you can handle those two, Meryl? One in each hand?"
"You doubt I could manage two at once?"
Jessica held up a hand. "Come on, let's stop this before it gets out of hand. Just assure me you won't end up shooting your own feet off or something."
To illustrate the fact that she was more than adept, Meryl whipped them both out of their holsters, spun them on her fingers, their barrels flashing brightly, then re-holstered them like a pro. "Fears put to rest?"
"I guess."
"Girl's a goddamn gunslinger!" Hawk said.
It was nice to see Meryl's spirits up. Since Del died, she'd alternated between what appeared to be depression, and hollow amusement. She would laugh sometimes, and it seemed to Jessica's ears like the imitation of a laugh. Put upon, just a sound that came from the throat and not the heart. She couldn't blame her. She'd suffered a loss and, really, hadn't had any time to get over it.
Neither did I when my Father died.
Will headed off abruptly, putting an end to the humour. "Let's move. Everyone, get to your positions and wait. I'd like to get Rick out of there before he's a goddamn cadaver."
"Good luck everyone," Jessica said, catching up with him.
Will stopped at the rise over the crater and helped her up the last of it. "Sorry if I snapped then. I just want to get this done."
"Don't sweat it. I know what you mean."
He turned his gaze to the edge of the city. Already the sounds of people filtered through on the air. "I'm just glad you had all those civilian clothes sitting there at the colony. We should fit right in."
"Are you implying we look like criminals?"
"Hey, only one of us is a genuine certified criminal, remember?"
She shrugged. "Can't argue with you there."
Will looked down at himself. "Admittedly, we're several decades out of date."
"I don't even know what it feels like to wear anything but a uniform anymore."
"Sad."
Jessica shrugged.
Will looked ahead, his eyes filled with the green of the gas giant, the lights and flashing neons of the city, and the black star-studded sky. "Come on. Let's do this."
6.
"That ought to do it," Chief Kolvin stepped back from the torpedo to admire his handiwork. It certainly wasn't a thing of beauty, but would pack quite a wallop when it went off, that was for certain. The warheads of six Rasa torpedos squashed inside a standard probe housing. It was a wonder he managed to fit it all in.
"I still do not understand its purpose," Chip said in his flat voice.
"Isn't it obvious, Chip?"
As he'd explained to Captain Chang, it was simply impractical to fit that many warheads inside a single torpedo. They'd never fit. Added to that, the weapon wouldn't be able to do what she wanted it to do. As per Chang's instructions, it would have to locate a specific target area and attach itself to it.
"Back on Earth, centuries ago, there was a great war. There were huge mobile artillery in use and one way of putting them out of action was to slap a simplistic explosive device to weak spots. It would adhere to them, allowing the user time to clear the area before it exploded. What was important was that it allowed for very specific destruction," Chang told him. "It was called a sticky bomb."
The Chief's solution was perfect. He stripped everything but navigational sensors and thrusters from the probe. After that, there was just enough space inside to fit the warheads and a simple triggering mechanism. By its very design, the probe could latch onto any available surface with ease. It would launch from the front end of a fighter, then fly toward the intended target under its own power. then it would attach, and blow itself up.
"I think I'll call it a 'kamikaze.' Descendent of the 'sticky bomb.'"
"Is it to remain a secret?" Chip asked.
"Yes. For the time being. I've disabled the whole probe. Last thing we want is it detonating under our noses."
"Chief, I do not have a nose."
Kolvin rolled his eyes. "Just lift it up, will you?"
"Yes Chief."
Chip bent down, picked the probe up off the deck, and held it in front of him with both arms. It was impossibly heavy; but for the android, lifting the probe was little to no effort at all.
"Take it to the armoury. We'll lock it up till we need it."
He followed Chip into the corridor and along to the armoury where the Master At Arms assisted them in getting it stowed safely away. When it was needed, Kolvin would have to reconnect everything. The process would take half an hour, but was a necessary safety precaution.
I'd rather cause a delay in dispatching it than blow the ship to smithereens by keeping it wired together.
"What now, Chief? Shall I return to Engineering?"
Kolvin shook his head. "No. Come with me. We're going to find a fighter and make some modifications."
"What kind?"
"Build a cradle for the weird, messed-up baby we just created, I suppose."
Chip looked at him as they walked. The Chief had a smile on his face.
"A baby?" The Android sounded less than impressed. "Sorry, Chief, I don't understand . . ."
* * *
Olivia's image wavered, lines running through the transmission. It was a wonder the Intrepid could maintain any level of communications through the disruptive stellar soup of the Chimera Cluster at all.
"How are you getting on?"
Chang sipped her coffee. With every transmission encrypted to the highest possible level, she could speak freely with her partner, yet she held back. It was best Olivia didn't know every detail. If Grimshaw had still been alive, she might have held more faith in knowing harm wouldn't befall her lover. If there was the tiniest possibility Olivia could be exploited in some way, she couldn't have that.
These are dangerous times. Trust no one.
And even with their encryption, there was always the possibility of hostile ears listening down the line . . .
"We're fine. Still looking. As you can imagine, it's nigh impossible."
"Yes it must be."
"Your end?"
"Oh much the same as before. Missing you, though. Lots and lots."
Chang smiled. "Me too. I keep having to remind myself you're not on the ship."
An overhead announcement interrupted her. "Captain Chang to the bridge, please. Captain Chang to the bridge."
She sighed. "I'm sorry Olivia–"
"It's fine," Olivia said. She pressed her hand to the screen. Chang did the same. "Speak to you soon."
"Love you."
"Love you too, bye."
The transmission cut off. Captain Chang stood, stretched. Took a moment in the silence of her quarters.
This is how you deal with the stress, the responsibility: quiet. Time to yourself, even if it's five minutes. Space to breathe and gather yourself.
Not too long, though.
She grabbed her coffee, drained the last of it and headed for the door.
* * *
"Report," Chang said, assuming the Captain's chair.
"We're detecting an energy trail," Dr. Gentry. "It's consistent with that of the Amarax."
Up ahead, a line of planets swung slowly about a pale yellow sun. "This is the third system we've searched," Chang said. "What're the chances we strike gold this early?"
Gentry looked up. "Oh, they're not here."
"Huh?"
"No! They're long gone. But they did move through here, and due to the lack of activity in this system, their trail is weak, but still visible."
"Aha," Chang turned to Dana Oriz. "Dana, work with the Doctor to plot a course, following their wake trail."
"Yes, Captain."
Kyle stood next to Chang. "Doctor, you're sure this isn't from some other ship? A trading vessel or some such?"
"I go by my data," Gentry said. "It's Namarian in origin. Whether someone out there is flying about in an ancient Namar craft is yet to be seen, however . . ."
"Not likely," Chang said. "Plot the course, helm, follow it to the letter."
Ensign Alanna Gordon nodded once. "Yes, Ma'am."
Chief Kolvin arrived on the bridge. He assumed his seat at the engineering station.
"What did I miss?" he asked.
"The Namar have left a trail of breadcrumbs," Chang said. "Looks like all we have to do is follow."
Banks returned to the tactical station. He activated the controls for the weapons systems and started running diagnostics. "When we get through the woods to the gingerbread house at the end, I'll be ready," he said. "We'll blow it all apart."
Chang shared a glance with Chief Kolvin. If I have no other choice, that's precisely what we'll do.
"Do you have it?" Gentry asked across the bridge.
Dana looked up. "Yes. Tying it into the helm now."
"Ensign, full speed," Chang ordered.
7.
Jessica wrinkled her nose at the smell of exhaust and fumes wafting from the city. A level stretch of rock separated her and Will from the outermost buildings and alleyways.
"You smelling that pollution?"
"I am. It's disgusting."
"Imagine if this place had been set up on a habitable planet," Will mused. They got close, got low, readied themselves for walking in there. "No wonder we're considered a filthy species."
"Do people actually live here? I mean other than just a night or two."
"Yeah. Imagine it. But most of these buildings are casinos, brothels and assorted illegal fighting arenas. There's a huge star port the other side of the city, which is why we landed where we did."
She shook her head. "Literally a hive of scum and villainy then?"
"Pretty much."
They headed down an alley, the sound of music, the roar of engines filling their ears until they emerged on a sidewalk. Smoke rose into the sky from a burning vehicle, crashed into the road and just left as it was. Will and Jessica walked, and she had never been so aware of her weapon in its holster. Men and women, aliens, walked past and looked them up and down, but did not say anything. Their suspicious looks were enough.
"In a minute, we're going to get stopped," Jessica hissed.
"No. We won't. You see, they're looking at us strangely, but the important part is that no one knows who we are. For all they know, we could be the deadliest pair this side of the galaxy."
"True. You think we should give it some attitude?"
Will had to stamp his urge to laugh down, right down. "That's the last thing we need, turning this into an act."
After walking for ten minutes through the shadowy city, Will pulled Jessica into a side street and used his comm. to check in with the others. They were nearly in position. The pair of them continued on. For a place with so much neon overhead, it was incredibly dark on the ground. Jessica looked across the street where the entire front of a building consisted of windows with females of multiple races writhing within them, backlit by strong, pulsating, red lights.
Lines of men – and the occasional woman – unashamedly walked in and out of the structure.
A hover car buzzed overhead, the sound of its repulsors making a heavy whop whop whop sound as it passed.
"There. Down the street. That's the place."
Jessica looked. Ahead of them a squat, boxy building had been painted black all over. There was no sign, no embellishment. As much as everything else on Amity looked run down, dirty and as if it might crumble, this building in particular appeared to be solid. It didn't call attention to itself and, as much as it sat in the shadow of the other taller buildings, it was itself a part of the shadows.
"I hate this city," Jessica said. A crowd dominated the entire street in front of them, a hive of activity from within a casino on their left. Will put his head down, stuck his hands in his pockets and hurried through them. Jessica followed suit, not making eye contact with anyone there.
Will stopped just past the crowd. "There's the security."
In front of the building there was a hover vehicle parked haphazardly, half of it on the sidewalk, the other half in the road. A man leaned against it, stetson pulled down over his eyes, leather cowboy boots complete with spurs. He had a holster at an angle on his hip, with two long barrelled pistols, one either side. A single, heavy door permitted entrance to the prison, and a muscle-bound heavy stood to either side, arms folded, faces set with grim hostility.
"This way," Will whispered. Jessica followed him behind a huge dumpster overflowing with trash. He used his comm. again to check in with the others.
"We're about to make an entrance. Get ready. Set your timers for fifteen minutes. Then do your stuff."
"Roger," Barbie said.
"Got it," Hawk said in his southern drawl.
Will put the unit away and looked at Jessica. "Ready to party?"
* * *
Meryl set the charges against the external wall of the black building. Water ran from a broken pipe, sputtering to the ground to her left. She had to work from memory, but hers was better than most. She stepped back, admired her work and gave Barbie the thumbs up.
"Let's hustle," the Mantipor growled and ran halfway down the alley until she reached an overturned vehicle, burned down to the frame. It would provide sufficient cover if the pair of them crouched behind it. Meryl fell in next to her.
"How long have we got on that timer?" Meryl asked her.
"Thirteen minutes," Barbie said.
* * *
Hawk peered over the top of the building. It seemed impossible to think that down there, in the smog, Jessica and Will were making their move.
"I can't believe we're doin' this," Hawk said.
"What? You scared of heights, mate?"
"Ha! Don't you know what I am?" Hawk guffawed. Still, even for a pilot of his considerable gifts, he found the prospect of dropping into that murk and landing on the roof of the place where Shaw was being held a daunting one, to say the least.
"You've used these before?"
"Once. In basic training. Decades ago. Remember, amigo, I'm an old man."
"Well you don't look it."
Again, Hawk looked down. "And we're sure there's a way to get in at the top? Will there be anyone posted up there, guarding it?"
Punk shrugged. "There's an entrance, and it shouldn't be guarded. That's not to say it won't be though. We'll see when we make the jump."
The plan was for both Hawk and Punk to parachute silently to the roof of the building, and make a quiet entrance, navigating its innards. Exactly five minutes after their landing, Barbie and Meryl would detonate their explosives and breach the building from the outside.
Meanwhile, Jessica and Will would be inside, in an attempt to reach Shaw and guide him through the ensuing chaos.
"Structured chaos," was how Jessica had explained it to them.
"Time to get these on," Punk said.
"Right," Hawk shrugged his way into the straps of his parachute and tightened the straps around his chest and waist. "How long now?"
"Two minutes till we jump. Eight till Barbie blows the building a new exit."
* * *
"Can't come here," big brute on the right said, stepping in their path. "Turn around or go the other side of the street."
"I'm afraid we can't do that," Jessica said.
Stetson looked up, his eyes still masked by the shadow of the hat, but she could feel them burrowing into her as he watched the exchange.
"Oh yeah?" brute on the left snarled.
"We've come to see Matz," Will said.
Stetson spoke up. "Nobody sees X. Now beat it before I get Left and Right here to go to town."
"You're being serious?" Jessica asked. "That's their names? Left and Right?"
"That's right, little sister," Stetson said, knocking the hat back a few inches, revealing his face. Beneath the shade of the brim he did not have eyes. Where they had been shone the unblinking red lights of ocular implants. "Not that it matters, you both keep arguing the toss."
"Maybe we should move on . . ." Will said, turning as if to leave. His eye caught Jessica's and it was enough to signal to her what was about to happen.
She went for her gun. At the same time, Will flicked his left arm out, revealing a device strapped beneath his wrist. It let loose a haze of blue light. Both Left and Right tried to cover their faces, but it was too late. The stun took hold and they slumped to the floor together.
Stetson drew his sidearm, but Jessica already had the drop on him. "Go on. Try it."
He smiled. "Guess you got me."
"Drop it."
Stetson's gun clattered to the ground.
"Jess, step back."
She did, and Will fired the same device at Stetson, whose face twisted in a combination of rage and surprise. He swaggered left, clutched the side of the car, then slid to the ground, his hat askew. Will bent down, plucked the stetson from his head. "Thanks," he said and put it on himself.
"Suits you," Jessica opened the door and peered inside. It looked dark and empty in there, a foyer leading to a corridor, doors on either side. "Doesn't seem very high tech."
"Don't believe your eyes at first glance," Will said. He stood in the threshold and directed her gaze to the upper right hand corner of the foyer. A camera with a gun of some kind beneath it watched over the corridor. "Good job I've got another trick up my sleeve."
She shook her head in disbelief. "They are actually up your sleeve, aren't they?"
"Yep. Where else?"
He extended his right wrist, and next to his comm. unit was another bracelet. He pressed a button on the top of it, and the camera in the corner drooped down, pointing to the floor. The little green light that had been blinking next to it went dark.
Will moved, Jessica following close behind. He removed his weapon and took it off the safety. "Remember Punk hacked their power network, then did the same for the security grid?"
"Yeah."
"Well, this just deactivated all security across the whole city. The whole shebang has gone down. Trouble is, I don't know for how long, so we have to move quick."
The door banged shut behind them. They flew down the corridor, Will not bothering to check behind the doors. "What about those three outside? Won't they arouse suspicion?"
"Ha! Here? Are you kidding me?"
"I suppose you're right."
He spoke into his comm. unit. "Punk, Hawk. Do your thing."
"Yes, guv!"
"Remember, top down. Sweep through the building."
"Got it."
Will paused at the set of doors at the end of the corridor. "Are you ready, Jess? There's no telling who might be on the other side of this door."
"Ready as I'll ever be."
"Barbie? Meryl? Are you in position?"
"Check."
"Give me a sixty second countdown, then blow that wall."
Jessica took a deep breath. Will used the access panel next to the doors and they slid open.
8.
60 . . . 59 . . . 58 . . . 57 . . . 56 . . . 55 . . . 54 . . .
The doors opened on a large room, crates on the floor, stacked haphazardly. A line of large cages dominated the right hand side of the room. To the left, there was what appeared to be an operating table, though Jessica seriously doubted that Matz were in the habit of performing medical procedures on their prisoners.
Farther down from that, directly beneath an overhanging light, a group of men stood with their backs to the two intruders. One spoke into a comm. unit not dissimilar to the one Will was using. The others appeared to be playing a game of some kind.
. . . 48 . . . 47 . . . 46 . . . 45 . . . 44 . . . 43 . . . 42 . . .
Will and Jessica ducked behind one of the large crates. Jessica looked around the corner of it, to get a look at the cages.
"There's a Klebin in the first one."
Will looked over her shoulder. "Middle one's empty. He's gotta be down the end, then."
"What do you want to do? It's your call," she told him.
He licked his lips. The explosives will go off against that wall there. If we can hang here for the next thirty seconds, the blast should take them out of action. Then we're free to work with that last cage and get Shaw out of here.
"If he's in the cage. I can't see."
She went to move out and get a better look but he grabbed her arm. "No. Let's wait. If the Klebin spots you, he might raise the alarm."
"True."
"Anyway, Punk and Hawk will be on the roof by now."
* * *
Not quite.
Punk had already landed, falling silently with the parachute, his soft paws on the grit covering the flat roof. Hawk circled on his way down, the whole experience a completely new one for him.
He'd practiced powerless descent in training. But that wasn't just a few years ago, but decades.
Before most of this lot were born. That's how old I am.
The roof came into view. Closer and closer now. He prepared for the landing, wondered how he'd slow down in time, then didn't have to worry about it. The roof rushed up to meet him and he skidded along, still pulled by the parachute. It went suddenly slack, then flung him back, his arms and legs flailing. The parachute collapsed on top of him, a scramble of light material and cords.
"Nice landin'."
Hawk picked himself up. "Not my best, I'll admit."
Punk was already on the move. "Come on!" The Alpor threw the door open and rushed inside, weapons bristling, Hawk hot on his tail.
* * *
. . . 18 . . . 17 . . . 16 . . . 15 . . . 14 . . . 13 . . . 12 . . .
"I'd cover your ears," Will whispered.
"I was about to say the s–"
The doors behind them re-opened. Men – of both the Terran and alien variety – stormed inside, eyes landing on them straight away.
"Damn!" Will yelled. There were half a dozen of them. Jessica rolled to the right, brought her gun up and fired off a shot. It glanced past one of the aliens, but didn't hit. Will, meanwhile, managed to shoot one of the men in the kneecap. He went down, howling and Will plucked him one in the neck, silencing his painful cries.
. . . 7 . . . 6 . . . 5 . . .
"Quick! Behind this crate!"
Jessica dove next to him. He smothered her with his own body. There were men on the other side of them, shooting. Behind them, separated by a few more crates were the group that were in the room originally.
. . . 4 . . . 3 . . . 2 . . .
The rear wall blew inward by the force of the detonation. Huge chunks of it rocketed into the men stood closest, pummeling them as a tenderiser bashes meat. They were bowled over, covered in debris. The fiery hot breath of the explosion rushed into every crevice of the confined space, momentarily turning the air into a hellish brew of exhausted oxygen and smoke. Down low, both Jessica and Will were relatively protected – their civilian clothing was in tough shape, however. The gaggle who'd burst through the door were not so well off. One of them was blinded by the flash of the detonation and stumbled aimlessly, waving his hands in front of his face as if that might prompt his vision to return.
Jessica got up, stumbled to the end cage. Thick black bars housed its latest occupant – the dishevelled form of Captain Rick Shaw, lying on the floor curled into a ball.
"Sir!" Will shouted. "Rick!"
He looked up. "WILL?"
"We're getting you out of here."
"WILL? WILL!" Shaw got up, hobbled to the bars, visibly in agony. "I'VE NEVER BEEN HAPPIER TO SEE YOUR UGLY FACE."
"Thanks . . . I think."
"Why is he shouting?" Jessica asked, then realised Shaw probably hadn't been curled into a ball when the actual explosion happened, but had no doubt assumed the position when the wall blew into the room.
"Hearing's gone," Will said.
At that moment, Barbie leapt through the hole from outside, and fired at the doors behind them, where the men who'd barged through had roused from their stupor and were aiming weapons.
She let loose a battle cry and charged toward them, hundreds of pounds of pure muscle, with a gun at the front spurting a flurry of green energy bolts. Those that weren't hit screamed and fled from the room, or what was left of it.
"Barbie, get over here. Set the explosive."
The Mantipor chased the last of the goons off, then ran to the cage. She brought a small explosive from her pouch and fixed it to the lock on the bars. "Ten seconds."
They cleared the area and, ten seconds later, the lock was incinerated with a small pop! sound and a puff of white smoke. The Klebin hung from the bars of his own cage as Shaw exited his.
"Please! Yer gotsto lemme outta harr!"
Will gave Barbie the nod. "Do it."
They let Barbie do her work to free the Klebin. Shaw looked about. "YOU GUYS REALLY WRECKED THE PLACE!"
Jessica winced. "That shouting is going to get on my nerves."
Will spoke into his comm. unit. "Kay, get the Spectre online. Make your way here."
"Security systems still down?" Jessica asked.
"We have to assume they are. Besides, by the time they get a lock on the Spectre we'll be shooting off."
The lock to the first cage taken care of, the Klebin stepped out. He made to open his mouth, no doubt to shower them with thanks, but Barbie beat him to the punch. "Get out of here. Now."
"Eee justa wanteed to say–"
"Scram!" Barbie bellowed at him. The Klebin leapt in the air with fright and made for the hole in the side of the building. He was gone before the others could say a word. Meryl came into view, watching the Klebin run off down the alley.
"Hey, are we going to make a move or what?" she asked.
Will shepherded Captain Shaw toward her. Jessica turned back to Barbie, and that was when the Mantipor dropped to the floor, her entire hairy body convulsing, lips peeled back from her teeth in agony, eyes wild. Electricity arced around her, clung to her, the Mantipor's back stiff with pain.
It took a second for it all to make sense. By that point she'd joined Barbie on the floor, electrical charges racking through her body, hearing the shouts of Will and Meryl in her ears, weapons discharging, then blackness . . .
9.
Matz stood behind a man in full body armour, a picture of a clawed hand holding a sun painted on the front of his breast plate. He held a rifle in front of him.
"You," Will spat. It was the very same mercenary who had captured Shaw back at the station.
"Know what, kiddo? I was about to say the exact same thing."
Barbie lay unconscious on the floor.
I don't know how I'm going to get her out of here, Will was thinking. Damn. How will I move her?
Jessica lay next to the Mantipor, also incapacitated.
"No good hiding behind him, X," Will said. Matz stuck his chin in the air, made to move but the mercenary stuck an arm out.
"He's not worth the hassle, sir. Don't put yourself in danger. I'll take care of this."
"WHAT'S HE SAYING?" Captain Shaw asked, both he and Will slowly backing up.
"He's going to kill us."
"HUH?"
Will rolled his eyes. Turned his head so that Shaw could read his lips as he mouthed the words soundlessly: K-ILL U-SSS.
"Got it?"
"OH! KILL US!"
The mercenary chuckled. "Got it in one. Any last words?"
"A question."
"Go on."
"What's your name?" Will asked.
"Tiger Derry. And it's the last name you'll ever know, kid. Should've thought about it all a bit more."
Everything crashed together at once. Will stood there, next to Captain Shaw, waiting for Tiger Derry's rifle to riddle his body with holes. But when the weapon's fire came, it was from above his head, not in front of him. He looked up, saw the energy bolts spreading out in a wide circle, and instinctively moved out of the way. A good thing too, because in the next moment both Punk and Hawk came crashing down, riding the piece of ceiling as it thundered to the floor.
Tiger didn't have time to react. Fire lanced the air around him and he ducked back, drawing his weapon and then seeing it was a futile effort.
"Run! Get outta here!" Tiger snapped at his employer.
Will got down to the floor, slapped Jessica's face. "Jess! Wake up!"
Hawk and Punk were unstoppable. Two of Tiger's henchmen tried to fight, got caught in the aggressive firing pattern and were mown down, cut through with holes. As Punk zeroed in, his face a vicious snarl, Tiger lifted one of the fallen men and held him as a shield from what was coming his way.
In his haste to flee, Matz then crashed into the side of the mercenary and he dropped his human shield, along with several pieces of equipment from his belt.
"Go on! Run, ya yella toad!" Punk yelled at the departing crime lord. Tiger followed hot on his tail.
Hawk dashed back from a large, rotund man, and raised his gun. The man knocked it out of his hand, it slid away to his left. He freed the kataan of its holder and held it in front of him. The man lunged for him. Hawk stepped in close, brought the blade up, sliced straight through his arm, severing it at the armpit.
"Sorry, fella, no choice," Hawk said, shoving the bawling man away.
Will looked up to where Tiger Derry's equipment had dropped from his belt and noticed a familiar object. "Ah!" He scrambled toward it, found the on switch, and pointed it. It worked, and was idiot proof.
Punk continued firing, and while he did Shaw hovered over Ardai's shoulder.
"WHAT'S THAT THEN?"
"A containment shroud." He used it to gather both Barbie and Jessica in one hit. They floated together, looking as though they'd simply fallen to sleep. Beyond the broken wall of the place, Meryl peered up, hand covering her eyes.
"Uh, guys?" A brilliant white light shone down from above, making it appear as though she had been delivered from a higher plane. "Probably a good idea to get aboard, I think."
"You're right."
The light became more intense as the Spectre lowered as far as she was able, then dropped several wires by which to reach the ship. Will floated Barbie and Jessica to the wires, then set about stringing them both up by their feet.
Meryl grabbed one and it automatically sped her away. Shaw was next, his deep booming voice trailing away to nothing as he rose up into the Spectre, as the ship hovered next to the building. Hawk and Punk ran, grabbed a wire each and was gone. Will lashed a wire around Barbie's waist, and watched as the Mantipor rose above the chaos. He did the same for Jessica's, only this time he clung on too.
There will be payback for this, Will told himself. And I don't doubt Shaw and I will have a run in with Tiger Derry somewhere down the line . . .
The crew back aboard, the Spectre took off, blasting away from Amity's surface and racing out in to space. Moments later and they were gone. Jumped.
10.
"Shall I prepare and send the latest data packet?" Dana asked.
Protocol dictated that during such dangerous operations, command be kept updated with the latest information regarding the mission's progress. Sent at regular intervals, it ensured someone back at command knew where the Intrepid was at all times.
"Negative, maintain silence," Chang said.
"Understood."
"Chief, any way we can mask our presence?"
Kolvin ran a hand over his white whiskers. "If we drop the Intrepid to one-third engine power and cease all but essential scanners, we should be afforded a certain amount of anonymity."
Chang turned to Banks. "Do it. Relay the order throughout the ship."
"Aye."
"Dana, we've followed this trail for hours now. Any conjecture on where they're headed?"
"Their course deviates, it's almost as if they're searching for something. Finding their bearings."
"Strange."
"Yes. But using what data we have, I have been able to extrapolate their likely end point," Dana brought a visual representation of her work up on the viewscreen. It appeared as a simplistic map and showed their own course and that of the Amarax. The Intrepid currently coasted between systems, through the noxious nebulous matter of the Cluster itself.
The course of the Amarax extended out ahead of them, and the map zoomed out to reveal the end-point. It didn't look like a whole system. More, half of one.
"What is that?"
"It was once a sun, and three planets," Dana answered. "Now it is a sun and what remains of those planets. Mainly debris and ice."
Dr. Gentry cleared his throat. "Evidently, some catastrophic event took place, such as an external body entering the system and causing the planets to fall out of orbit, causing their eventual destruction. Why they're in the state they are now."
"Okay. And that means . . ."
"There is a band of fine material around the sun there. That's where the end-point appears to be."
Chang frowned. "When you say fine material, I'm assuming you both mean it is traversable with a starship."
"Exactly," Gentry said. "Little more than football-sized chunks of ice and rock. Nothing our energy shields can't cope with or, in the case of the Amarax, an incredibly strong hull."
"That'd work," Banks said.
Chang got up, walked to the front of the bridge. She rested a hand on Ensign Gordon's shoulder. "Okay, here's what I want you to do when we get there. Come in here, just in front of this larger debris field. The chunks seem far larger there. It should be easier to duck in behind one of them, use its sensor shadow to conceal the Intrepid."
"Yes Captain," Alanna Gordon said.
"Then what? If they can't see us, we can't see them," Banks said.
"Technically, not true," Dr. Gentry said. "Remember, the Intrepid will be blind, but her probes and fighters will not."
"Ah. So that's what you're thinking."
Captain Chang crossed her arms. She looked at the map on the screen. "We use the debris to our advantage. A small convoy leaves the Intrepid, full stealth formation, and flies recon to locate the Amarax."
"It won't be hard to locate," Chief Kolvin said. "Given its sheer size. But how will we track it?"
"A live feed from the fighter in question will allow me to calculate the position of the Amarax in relation to the natural orbital dynamics of this system."
"I don't understand why we can't use a long-range scan to locate the Namar," Ensign Gordon said. "Wouldn't it be easier?"
"It would," Gentry told her. "But our scans would be detected by the enemy and, second to that, the sheer amount of debris in this system would cause far too much interference."
"Chief, anything we can do to ensure the fighters are as invisible as possible?" Chang asked.
Kolvin considered. "If they're not going to be employed on extensive duty, I can disable several systems to cut emissions and radiation. But after a couple of hours the fighters will overheat, making the piloting of them unfeasible . . . and unsafe."
"I volunteer myself for it," Banks said. "Next to the Ensign over there, I'm pretty much the best pilot we've got. I can be back in time, I know it."
"I don't want my second in command out there doing this, Kyle," Chang said. "Besides there are other pilots aboard the Intrepid whom I'm sure would be just as eager."
"But none of them as good as me."
She couldn't argue with him, nor could she deny his point. She looked him over. How long had they served together? Long enough to know he could be depended upon, that he wouldn't throw his life away. If Kyle Banks volunteered for something, it was either because he knew it would work, or that he was the best suited to pull it off.
"Okay. But choose someone else to go with you, otherwise you won't do it in time."
Banks gave a curt nod. "Understood," then he left the bridge.
Kolvin followed him out. "It'll take me an hour to prep the fighters, Captain."
"That's fine, Chief. So long as they're ready to go when we get there."
"Aye, they will be."
Chang sat down. "How long till we reach that system?"
"At current speed, three hours," Dana said.
"Prepare the data packet, then. Inform command of our belief that we are closing in on the Amarax. Suspected coordinates withheld until we can confirm for definite they are there. I only want to send it once After all, this is a top secret mission."
* * *
Banks watched Chip go to work on two of the fighters, disabling entire sections of their exhaust and coolant units. Of course, sound does not carry in a void. But a ship – of any size – must expend exhaust and heat. Those functions could be suspended for a while; there were other ways to get rid of heat, but not for any extended amount of time. The coolant cells would prove useless after a couple of hours.
"Where did you get him from, anyway?" Banks asked the Chief.
"It's a long story, Lieutenant-Commander. But an interesting one. When things have settled down, I don't mind telling you."
"I'd be interested to hear it."
"Good. You bring the bottle and I'll provide the tale. As it would be on my home planet."
Banks smiled. "And mine."
"Touché."
Banks regarded Chip. "Big brute, though, eh?"
"Oh, definitely so. But completely reliable. It is actually against his programming to harm anyone aboard this ship. He can protect the crew from danger, but not at the expense of life itself. In fact, any sentient life, human or not."
"So you're saying that in a firefight, he couldn't actually shoot someone?"
The Chief scratched the side of his face. "Not to kill. But he could if he decided it would save lives, and not cause any more to end."
"Sounds complicated."
"It is. But the important part is that, though he'd be totally capable, he is not a killing machine. Can you imagine if something his size, with his theoretical strength, were used in a combat situation?" Kolvin shook his head. "It doesn't bear thinking about."
"He makes short work of stuff like that," Banks nodded in the direction of the Android. "I don't think a human could do better."
"Yeah, well, he'll never replace real hands, real people."
"How come?"
The Chief sighed. "It's a hard one. Chip is artificially intelligent. He can hold a conversation, he can whip your behind at chess. He can seem as if he empathises with you, even cares about you . . . and to be honest, I'm convinced that's actually the case. There seems a lot more going on inside that robot than I'm led to believe. However he lacks that something that makes us who we are. You know what I'm saying? Chip wouldn't take a risk on the small chance his efforts might succeed. Whereas we're more inclined to do so."
Chip closed up one fighter and moved on to the next.
"You're saying that he lacks our negative aspects."
"Yes. Human, Gobol, Alpor, whatever . . . we all seem to share the same faults. And they are what makes us who we are. Our faculties define us, in a way, as much as our great failures and accomplishments. Chip and those like him are flat, for lack of a better word. He can do everything we can, but he can never love or hate. He could never risk something that might endanger the whole ship because it might work. That's not enough for Chip."
"Ah. So he's your counter-weight."
"Yes!" Kolvin laughed. "Yes, exactly. I need him in that engineering room when I'm not there, because I know he won't take risks. He'll do everything by the book. You won't find a better engineering room in the whole fleet. Trust me on that."
"Oh I agree with you."
They both watched him work for a moment. "Are you nervous?" Kolvin asked him.
"Not particularly. Don't forget, this isn't my first time going up against these people. I just want to find the Amarax so we can rally the fleet."
"That's understandable. And hey, you know you're looking for a wing man for this mission?"
Banks nodded. "Yeah?"
"Well consider everything I just said about Chip and tell me he isn't the perfect guy to fly with?"
"You're joking, right? He can't fly . . ."
The Chief's eyebrows rose in surprise. "You wanna bet?"
* * *
Hemmed in on all sides by the endless expanse of the Chimera Cluster, the star system was a ruin of broken planets.
"Awful," Ensign Gordon said, looking up at the viewscreen in dismay. "I wonder if there was life here."
"We'll never know," Dr. Gentry said.
"Eyes on the prize, Ensign," Chang told her. "Hold our position here at the edge of this system. Our primary concern right now is to locate a suitable chunk of planet. Doctor, anything look like it might be the one?"
"As a matter of fact . . . no. They're all too small."
"Oh."
"However, I do have another idea. If you'll consider the map again," Gentry said. Chang watched as it appeared on the screen again, this time in more detail because they were so close. There was the sun, and a wide ring of material around it. Then a second and third ring, both of these more tightly packed.
"This isn't what we saw before. There were whole big pieces of planet there."
"Yes. For one reason or another, things have changed. We're now dealing with smaller material. It would appear that since the map was recorded in the database, an event occurred here to make what was left of the planets smaller. However, I have a solution to our problem."
"I'm all ears."
"Indeed. The third ring there, with the greatest depth of debris, has a constant rate of velocity and trajectory. At least, constant enough for our needs. We can simply slip inside of it and match it. If we cut everything bar enough energy output to maintain our own velocity relative to that of the debris field, we will be virtually invisible."
"I'm with you, Doctor," Chang said. She nodded. "Yes. Very good. Ensign, you heard the man. Set a course for that ring. Use a burst of speed then cut the engines and supplant that with frequent bursts of output. Dana, full communication blackout."
"Yes Captain," Lieutenant Oriz said. "You have Chief Kolvin on the line."
"Go ahead."
The Chief's voice boomed from the speakers. "Captain, we're ready down here. Awaiting your order."
"Hold while we get into position, Chief. Is everything set with Lieutenant-Commander Banks?"
"Yes Captain. He and Chip are in their fighters, ready to go."
Chip? "I'm sorry, Chief. Did I hear you correctly?"
"Yes, the Lieutenant-Commander and Chip are on standby, Captain. Was there an issue?"
You're calling me out on this, aren't you? You know if you'd approached me prior to our arrival I'd have rejected. But now, there's no time.
"Nothing that can't be resolved later," Chang said icily.
"Understood, Captain. Chief out."
She bit her tongue. Dana looked over at the Captain's chair. "How am I handling communication with the fighters, Captain?"
"Visual only. Convey to both Banks and Chip that once they launch, they're on their own. I don't even want them contacting each other unless they're in danger."
"I'll tell them at once."
"Once they launch, put their feeds up on the viewscreen. Once they have visual, they can return to the Intrepid."
Chang listened as her orders were relayed to the awaiting pilots. It wasn't that she had an issue with Chip performing the same duties as any other crew member, but he was untested. To put him in the pilot's seat like this, without consulting her . . . she couldn't have it. The Chief would have to be spoken to.
This is a small test, and the first of many, she thought. This is command. This is command. This is command.
The Intrepid coasted into the system, under brief bursts of power. Ensign Alanna Gordon did an admirable job of maneuvering the ship up close to the band of debris that encircled the sun like the ring of a gigantic planet would.
"I have a suitable break. Ensign, if you get into position and yaw to starboard, we will fit inside with ease," Gentry told Alanna at the front.
"Easy for you to say . . ."
"Switch to starboard camera," Chang said. The screen showed what they were drawing close to: a rapidly moving field of jagged, deadly rock and shards of spiky ice. The light of the sun cut through those icy daggers, and they sparkled like diamonds, glittering against the dark.
"Moving across," Ensign Gordon said, her voice tight. "Easing back on thrust to match velocity."
"Easy. Don't rush."
The Intrepid veered gradually in among the rock and ice, not so much as striking a single piece. The Ensign adjusted their heading slightly. "Cutting thrust back to less than three percent. Just enough to hold position and continue our orbit."
"Excellent work, Ensign. Monitor our heading, though. We can't drift. There's no margin for error."
Start slipping away from your intended course inside an asteroid field and you're dead, simple as that, she did not tell her. Too much realism for one day as it was.
"Shutting down all scanners but short-range proximity and internal sensors," Dr. Gentry reported.
Chang looked at him. "Cut internal power, too. Everything we don't need."
"Yes Ma'am."
The lights instantly dimmed around them, the sound of the air recyclers quieted to a whisper.
Lieutenant Oriz turned from her station. "Comms are offline. Intership only."
"Good. Dana, tell Banks and Chip they may proceed with their mission."
Dana nodded. "Yes Ma'am."
No going back now. And there's always the possibility we've already been detected or . . . the fighters get detected and they trace them back to the Intrepid, attacking us while we're powered down and defenceless. Again, Chang told herself: This is command.
"Dana, tell them to be careful out there."
"Will do."
When Chang looked about, Dr. Gentry was watching her, his wise face world-weary and knowing. He smiled weakly and turned back to his readouts. Chang wondered why he'd been watching her, what he was trying to see and decided the scientist was thinking the same as her. Gentry's analytical mind assessed the operation and he was just as mindful of its shortfalls as she was. What seemed a simple plan had many flaws that could result in crushing failure.
But what she appreciated was that like her, he had not communicated those concerns to the crew. They were a given danger; no need in scaring the ship with what might happen. For an unstable mad scientist, he could be surprisingly supportive at times.
Chang watched the fighters exit the Intrepid from the starboard bay doors. They sped off in opposite directions, yet both were searching for the same thing – an Enigma, a nemesis.
An answer as to what, exactly, the Namar were doing in the Chimera Cluster . . .
11.
Lieutenant-Commander Kyle Banks lifted the nose of his fighter and sped up, past the debris. The ring fell away behind him. He glanced to the right, saw Chip's fighter heading the opposite direction, but matching his maneuvers.
So the Chief was right. He really can fly.
It felt strange not only to be away from the Intrepid in own small craft, but to be completely cut off from her, too. He rarely ever got the chance to pilot a small ship, and when the opportunity arose Banks could never find within himself to pass it up willingly. Even a mission as dangerous as the one he flew right then. High stakes and a high level of danger involved just served to make it all the more exciting. Besides, he couldn't willingly allow someone with less experience to run the op, knowing he was a better fit for it.
Normally, he would have reported his progress, but there wasn't anyone to talk to. The in-flight systems would record every move he made, his position in the system, his heart rate. Every possible bit of data they could.
Checking his aft camera, he could no longer spot the Intrepid in among the rocks. She was well hidden.
He turned back to what lay head. A second ring, racing up to meet him like a jagged wall of death. He increased altitude relative to his position, getting clear just before he reached them. A collision with a single lump of rock would prove catastrophic. And what was more, there were no redundancies aboard. Chip had stripped the two fighters back to the absolute bare essentials.
Already it was hot in there. It would only get hotter, he knew. With the fighter components heating up through his mission, the temperature would rise to uncomfortable levels.
Hence his race toward the sun. Chip would be doing the exact same thing, shooting for the other side. Between the two small ships, they had a monster to find.
Two Davids in a race to seek out Goliath.
* * *
"Their progress?" Chang asked.
Dr. Gentry shook his head helplessly. "I'm afraid they have passed beyond the limits of our sensors, Captain. All we can do is await their word."
"I don't like this," Chang said, pacing the bridge. "View from their forward camera?"
Dana brought it online. The screen refused to display anything, then it sluggishly showed the first few frames of Banks's flight away from the Intrepid. The feed was heavily marred by the radiation and interference of the Cluster itself, but was clear enough to discern what was happening.
"Appears to be heading over the second ring," Gentry said. "Even hidden among the particulates and debris in the inner ring, the Amarax should be clearly visible silhouetted against the sun."
Captain Chang turned at the sound of someone walking onto the bridge – Chief Kolvin.
"Captain."
"Chief."
He took his seat and Chang turned back to the viewscreen, wondering now why she'd been so angry at the Chief's apparent insubordination. All feeling toward the matter had faded, leaving little more than cool disaffection in its wake.
The viewscreen showed Banks's ship rocketing over the last of the second ring. Chip's showed the same.
"Okay everyone, keep your eyes open."
"It's the only problem with this plan," Lieutenant Oriz said from the communication's station. "If we spot it before they do, there's no way of telling them."
"I think it's a fair bet they will spot it the same time as us," Dr. Gentry said. "Think of the sheer size of the Amarax. A wonder of engineering."
"You're still in awe of it, aren't you Doctor?" Chang asked.
"I don't know how you can't be," he said, his voice clipped and defensive. "I wish we were able to study it in greater detail. Unfortunate, things turning out the way they did."
Chang thought of the Defiant battling Cessqa. Commander Greene's death. Before that, their year spent exploring the outer edges of the galaxy and all that had happened. And even before that, her time as Science Officer under Jessica's Father, Captain Andrew Singh.
So much had happened in such a short space of time.
"I think it's a shame also, Doctor. But I feel our time of studying the Amarax is behind us. Once we have a location, we will call the fleet. They will converge on this location, and together we'll attempt to take the Amarax – and her commander – into custody."
Chief Kolvin spoke, his voice deep and gravelly. "And if we can't?"
Chang turned to face him. "I guess we'll destroy them."
* * *
Chip monitored every aspect of the fighter's function, his hands deftly steering the light craft along the edge of the inner belt. The tumbling matter blurred past, yet he could see every individual rock, every granule as it circled the sun of the shattered system.
The heat issue within the fighter was a concern, but hardly a grave one. There was plenty of time to do a lap of the sun at maximum velocity, using the star's own immense gravity for assistance.
Twenty-three minutes and sixteen seconds into his flight, Chip caught a glimpse of a dark object within the belt. He slowed, turned back toward it.
A positive identification. From what he had been given access to, the object within the belt was definitely the Amarax. He would have turned back right there and then, returning to the Intrepid before his ship overheated.
But there was another structure with the Amarax. Chip ensured the fighter was pointed in such a way as to afford the bridge a good view of what he was seeing – a black, cobweb structure several hundred metres across, facing the sun. It was a hexagonal shape, with the strange weblike frame. His sensors detected minor energy output from it. The Amarax held position to the side.
He held his location for a moment longer, then turned and headed back toward the Intrepid.
* * *
Banks spotted the flash of Chip's fighter as it rose against the stars and headed back to the ship. He took that as his sign and followed suit, privately thankful to be heading back.
It was getting far too hot inside the cockpit and he could feel himself cooking.
* * *
"Kyle is turning back too," Chang said. "Good. Now we've got what we need. Dana, wind that back, let's take a good look at whatever that was next to the Amarax."
She did so, the viewscreen showing a good view of the structure. "Reminds me of a fly swat."
Chang looked at her. "A what?"
"You know, those things you smack flies and things with."
"I'll take your word for it."
Dr. Gentry worked his station. "I have the location. I'm adding it to the map we have in our database already so that we can see the Amarax's position in real time. Unless, of course, they move."
"Something tells me they came here because that – whatever it is – was here. They're not going anywhere," Chang said. "Any ideas, Doctor?"
"None at present. The fact that it is facing the sun, is quite interesting. Perhaps it is something to harness the sun's energies?"
"Perhaps," Chang said. "Chief? Thoughts?"
Kolvin shrugged. "I am baffled, Captain. It looks like nothing I have seen before, that's for sure."
"Me neither," Ensign Gordon said. "It definitely looks like a net of some kind, though."
"Chief, why don't you head on down to the landing bay, you've got two hot birds coming in that will probably require your expert attention," Chang told him. "Extend my thanks to both, but particularly to Chip. He found them."
Kolvin smiled. "Thank you, Captain."
He made to leave. She stood from her chair. "Chief, I doubted your reasoning earlier and for that, I apologise. You were right."
He bowed his head and made a discreet exit. Chang turned to Dana.
"Lieutenant, prepare a data packet for command. Send directly to Admiral Kerrick."
"Aye."
I want to see how he is going to respond to this. Will he send the fleet . . . or will he leave us to face them alone?
12.
Professor Dajani walked out to the landing platform, noted the yacht and the elegant middle-aged woman stepping out from behind it.
"Doctor Kingston?" he asked.
She walked up to him, took both of his hands in hers. "Professor. It's been too long."
"I hardly believed it when the security team told me who had arrived. I don't often get many visitors here, you see."
"I am no stranger to secret facilities, as you well know," Kingston said, a warm smile on her face.
He started to lead her away. Half a dozen security personnel waited by the door for him to return, and he waved them off. They filed inside ahead of him. "What brings you here?"
"I need your expertise," Kingston said, stopping. "I've brought something with me I think you will find fascinating."
He was uncertain. "I don't know . . ."
"It's just in the ship. I had to find you, bring it straight to you."
"What is it? This is most peculiar, Doctor," Dajani said, backing off a step, then another.
Dr. Kingston opened her arms. "After all these years of looking, I've finally found good hard evidence as to the Heart of the Galaxy's resting place."
"The Heart? The Heart, you say?"
I'm winning him over, Kingston thought.
"One and the same. It was quite extraordinary, to be honest," she said, slowly walking back to the yacht and hoping beyond hope he would automatically follow her.
Don't look back, like you're worried he's not. Take it for granted he's right behind you.
"Where did you find it? In what form is it?"
His voice was very close behind her. She did not have to look. "On Zac'u IX where I've been working these last few years. We were excavating a cave there, as you know the planet is uninhabited, apart from us temperamental scientists, of course."
He managed a laugh. "Yes."
She led him around the side of the yacht, to the open hatch. "That's when we found it. I'm afraid it's in some form of ancient language I've not yet been able to decipher. I was hoping, seeing as the search for the Heart is still primarily your area, that you might be able to succeed where I have failed."
"You have humbled over the years," Dajani said, getting to the hatchway.
Dr. Kingston stepped aside for him. "And you've grown complacent," she said, voice icy cold.
Dajan frowned, peered into the yacht, his face shocked at the sudden movement within. "What the–"
The blue stun beam struck him square in the chest, sent him flying back where he staggered for a moment, then dropped to the floor, arms and legs flapping. For a big girl, Barbie moved with the grace of a ballerina as she stepped out of the yacht and fired at him again. Professor Dajani became still.
The Mantipor scooped him up, and was about to take him inside the yacht when a shot ricocheted off the hull above her head. She dropped Dajani inside and whirled about.
"Doc! Get in!"
The security officer called for reinforcements, aiming his weapon for another shot.
Barbie levelled the stun gun at him and fired. The blue beam hit the officer in the face. His eyes rolled inward, mouth working numbly, then he fell in a jumble of arms and legs. Barbie chuckled to herself, got into the yacht and closed the hatch.
"All aboard?" Hawk yelled. He fired up the engines, the yacht lifting into the air. The motorized sound of the landing gear ground up into the belly of the craft.
Dr. Kingston checked Dajani. "Sleeping."
"Well, these are for when the little scamp wakes up," Barbie said, clamping cuffs on his wrists.
Several bursts of weapon fire hit the hull as the yacht climbed, scooting over the officers on the ground and fading into the blue.
"Yeeehaaaa!" Hawk hollered as they reached space and he spooled the Jump drive.
Barbie settled into the seat next to him. "Ready?"
"Let's punch the clock!"
The stars shrank back, then burst all around them, and the Captain's yacht went to Jump.
* * *
Jessica closed the channel with the yacht. A cool wind blew in off of Steria's dark side.
"They got him?" Ardai asked.
"That they did," she said. "I told Hawk we'll rendezvous with him at the facility on Zac'u IX."
Punk lugged a crate of supplies into the Spectre. Jessica and Will watched him go past.
He rolled his eyes at them. "Can't blame a fella for loadin' up when he gets chance."
"I didn't say anything," Will told the Alpor. "What's in there, anyway?"
"Coffee, mate. Tins and tins of bloody coffee!" Punk burst into throaty laughter, and continued up the ramp.
Jessica followed Will inside and spared Twilight Town one last look as he raised the ramp and sealed them in. "How's Shaw?"
"Doped up on meds right now. Meryl's seeing to him."
Jessica shook her head. "I'm not so sure about Meryl's bedside manner, to be honest."
"What's her story? She was your Chief of Engineering, correct?"
Jessica swallowed. "Yes. She was dating my number two, Commander Greene. When we engaged Cessqa and the Namar, Del was mortally wounded in combat. He . . . he died in Meryl's arms."
She had to blink back the tears. Will put an arm around her. "So she's all front. All that attitude is covering up what happened to Del."
"Right. I know that deep down she's really hurting. Just as I am. I want vengeance, Will, but I so want to just find a peaceful solution to all this."
"I understand."
The Spectre jostled left and right, the engines roaring to life, and the pair held on as she stabilized. Kalar's voice came over the speakers. "Getting us into orbit."
Will hit the comm. panel. "I'll be there in a minute, Kay. Out."
"Will." Jessica ran her hand up his arm. She looked into his eyes. "Now I've had a taste of what Meryl and Del had, I don't ever want to lose it. I don't know where she gets the strength because I don't think I'd be able to do the same."
"You won't lose me. I won't let that happen," Will said and kissed her.
But as they walked to the bridge she couldn't help but think, The good things in my life are always gone too soon. Surely, what I feel, what I have with you, cannot last.
* * *
Professor Dajani stirred, opened his eyes, then closed them again. He groaned, shifted, or tried to before realising his hands were bound. He opened his eyes again, this time more alert, more awake.
"Hello Professor," Dr. Kingston said.
"What're you doing with me?" Dajani croaked.
The yacht vibrated slightly from the forces of the Jump. "We are currently en route to my facility on Zac'u IX, Professor, where you will be held as our political prisoner until the time is right."
"Right? You have no right! I demand to be freed!"
Barbie growled from the cockpit. "Tell him to calm down, Doc, or I'll have to put my foot on his throat."
"Hear that?" Kingston asked. She sat opposite him, her arms crossed. Dajani was on the deck of the yacht, helpless in his bonds. "I think you need to calm yourself and evaluate the situation."
"What situation?"
"Of what you've done, what you've had a hand in. The people I am assisting are in deep trouble, labeled traitors to the Union because they stumbled on the truth about your work, and the methods of not only Admiral Kerrick but the Vice President himself."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"You do."
"Doctor Kingston, you kidnapped me, took me by force. Shall I add that you took me away from my very important work in the field of pathogens and viruses on Siup. Work it is imperative I continue."
"Before you were a man working for the common good, you were engineering super-soldiers to support Kerrick and the VP's personal motives."
He drew a heavy breath. "That is false."
"Confound you, Professor! I worked with you. Don't deny it to me. Do you not realise the gravity of your situation?"
Dajani scowled at her. "You have changed, Doctor. You were loyal. A good scientist. Someone who could be trusted. Obviously that has changed. How far you have fallen, dear Doctor."
"On the contrary, I've found my true calling. I will help these people as much as I can. I will reveal the truth about Admiral Kerrick's dealings with the VP. I will do so because yes, I am a good scientist. I never wanted this."
"Can you say the same about the Sun Hammer, Doctor?"
She licked her top lip. "I am ashamed of my part in those experiments."
"And you share the blame."
"The work I do now–"
Dajani shook his head. "You're as bad as I am. Worse, even."
"The work I do now is, in principle, the complete opposite of the Sun Hammer. It's called Renewal. It couldn't be any further in principle and intent than that dreadful device."
"You will have to kill me before I'll help you."
Barbie left the cockpit and stalked slowly toward him, her towering figure the embodiment of pure terror to the miniscule Professor.
"That can be arranged, little man."
"You d-d-d-don't scare m-m-m-me."
She picked him up by the scruff of the neck, held him as high as she was able, his head against the roof of the space craft. "How about you reconsider your position, given the fact I'm tempted to throw you out of the airlock at the earliest opportunity."
"I-I-I-I . . ."
Barbie put him back down, gave him a long hard glare, and returned to the cockpit.
Dr. Kingston made to continue her argument with him, but stopped herself. Professor Dajani shook all over and, she noticed, had done a good job of wetting himself in the process.
I think our conversation can wait for another time, Kingston told herself. I've got to give the man some dignity . . .
13.
"So now we have two prisoners," Ardai said.
Captain Shaw limped along beside him, clutching his ribs. "God you've been busy. I was only away for a few days."
"You make it sound like you were on leave."
"I was. I like getting my ribs broken, you know. It's that sort of vacation. You should try it," Shaw said.
He peered in at the hybrid locked in one medical bay, chained to the operating table with whatever the staff at the Zac'u IX facility had had to hand. In the next room, Professor Dajani sat on the floor, hugging his knees.
The giant albino simply lay where he was, body completely relaxed, staring up at the ceiling.
"He spoken yet?" Shaw asked.
"No. Neither has Dajani, but I think Kingston is going to have a go with him, convince him he has to testify for us."
"If not I'll torture the little sucker with my bare hands," Shaw said. Will turned a disapproving eye on him. "What? You know I'm only joking."
"I wonder sometimes."
The door behind them opened and Jessica walked in. "Good to see you up and about."
Shaw bowed his head. "All thanks to you, of course."
"I can only take one tiny fraction of the credit, but thank you anyway. Now, how's our hybrid?"
Ardai shrugged. "Just lays there. Admittedly, chained up the way he is, he can't do anything else, but still . . ."
"Is it even capable of speech?" Shaw asked.
Jessica used the control at the side of the medical bay door to open it. "Let's find out."
The two men watched from the doorway as Jessica approached the hybrid where he lay.
"How are you?"
No response.
"I know you're not happy, the way you've been treated. And I don't blame you. But you must understand we're not your captors, we're your saviours."
Nothing.
"You were made by scientists, raised by the military, and trained to be killing machines. But there's a big part of you that is human, that is exactly the same as us. I believe it's what made you all want to escape and flee Outland. I believe your human need to be free necessitated your escape from that place."
A flicker of recognition in his strange eyes. Barely noticeable but it was there.
"Listen, my intention is to expose the corruption in our leadership, to have those responsible for your creation and slavery dealt with to the full effect of the law. But in order for me to do that, so that you can be free, I need your help."
He turned his head to look at her.
"Good. You are listening then."
"What can you do?" he asked, slowly. "The moment they have me, I will be sent to a lab and tested. That will be my life. This will have been my only freedom."
"No, I won't accept that. I am going to see to it that you are afforded the same rights as the rest of us. You can either start a life somewhere, or take a position in the Union. It will be up to you. You shouldn't have to suffer for the circumstances of your creation, which were entirely beyond your control."
"What can you do to help me? I don't see what you can do."
"I can tell the truth, in a court of law. I can fight your case," Jessica held her breath as she reached out, touched his big hand. She imagined him grabbing hers and crushing her fingers like dry sticks in his iron grip. But he didn't. The sensation of her skin touching his seemed to make a connection.
"How can I trust you? We were raised as slaves, chased across the galaxy and attacked. Your own people, there," he looked at Ardai and Shaw in the doorway. "They found us, took me prisoner."
"They were acting on orders. You did some bad things."
"We had to. We wanted to . . . live."
"Then live. Stand by my side when I tell them all the truth, and be my testimony. Tell the court your story. Fight for your freedom, as a human would."
"Jess! What're you doing!?" Ardai squeaked as she hurriedly unlocked the locks holding the chains taut over the hybrid's body. They fell slack to the floor, but he remained on the bed.
"If he is going to trust us," she said. "We must trust him."
The hybrid sat up, swung his giant legs over the side of the bed. He looked at her, and she could almost see emotion in his eyes. He held out his hand. "All I must do is tell the truth?"
She put her hand in his. "Truth and trust. That's all I ask."
The hybrid's hand closed around hers, ever so gentle, then released her hand. She heard Will breathe a sigh of relief behind her.
"I will trust you."
"Please stay here. One of the team at this facility would like to check you over, measure you for some sort of clothing, and see if there's anything you need."
He nodded, once. Jessica left the room, shutting the door behind her, but not locking it.
"That was risky," Will said, unimpressed. "He could've killed you in seconds."
"He could have, but he didn't. I had to take the risk. Imagine what will happen when he stands up in court and tells his story!"
"I'd feel more comfortable posting Barbie down here, outside the room, just in case," Shaw suggested. "A few broken ribs are one thing but I don't fancy a broken neck if you know what I mean."
"I do. Go ahead. But she needs to be as cool with him as possible. Don't incite anything."
"Got it. But, you know, that's easier said than done when it comes to a Mantipor . . ."
* * *
"Ready to hand yourself in and be a prisoner?" Selena asked.
Hawk ran a diagnostic of the yacht's systems, grains of silicate striking the window in front of him like sharp rain.
"It won't be for long, darlin'."
"We don't know that for sure," Selena said. She slumped into the seat next to him. "To be honest, I have my doubts about the plan."
"Ya don't wanna go through with it?"
"Not that. I'd follow the Captain to the ends of . . . well, the Galaxy I suppose," Selena assured him. "It's just, the thought of actually handing ourselves in, standing trial. It has me nervous."
"Ah, me too! But ya know what? It's sorta excitin' too."
She shook her head, laughing. "You are crazy."
"No, I am a legend. A hero. That's gotta count for somethin', ain't it?" Hawk asked.
"You are unbelievable sometimes."
The side of his mouth lifted in a cocky grin. "Unbelievably handsome?"
Selena looked away, didn't want him to see her smiling. If they did go down for what they'd taken part in, if they were imprisoned for the rest of their lives, at least there had been smiles and laughter. There had been friendship and love. And, surely, that's more than anyone can hope for . . .
* * *
Dr. Kingston walked through the door to find not only a gigantic Mantipor leaning against the far wall, huge rifle propped up next to her, but the medical bay left wide open.
"Hey, Doc."
"Why is the door open?"
Barbie shrugged. "Talk to Captain King. I've just been told to wait here. So that's what I'm doing."
"I . . . see . . ." she walked gingerly up to the door and peeked in. The hybrid sat on the operating table, legs over the side. He looked up at her and raised a hand, wordlessly.
She went over to Barbie. "You know that the door's open, don't you? I'm not hallucinating this?"
Barbie nodded. "Yep."
"Right."
Stranger things have happened, she thought, going to Dajani's room. Like your daughter turning up, out of the blue.
She unlocked the door and walked in, Dajani sat on the floor with his head in his hands.
"If you're here to try another tact with me, Kingston, it won't work. I will not be a part of your terrorist plot."
"Oh, give it up," she said, pulling a chair across and sitting. "You know that Kerrick had Grimshaw killed, don't you?"
He looked up. "I think you'll find it was Jessica King who did that."
"No. Because she requisitioned her old ship against orders, Kerrick twisted her actions and fingered her as the Admiral's assassin. But it was really Kerrick. She and Grimshaw had had a breakthrough in their case and were ready to make a move against Kerrick, but he was too quick. He moved first and had the Admiral killed."
"You're lying."
"Whatever you want to believe, Professor. But hear this, and believe me. We are probably the only thing standing between you and death right now. Because if you think for one second Kerrick won't go to every effort to cover his tracks, then you're deluded. I have no doubt I am on his hit list also."
"How do you know for certain that King did not kill him, huh?"
Dr. Kingston leaned forward. "Because one of the team assisting Jessica was kidnapped by a bounty hunter aboard a Union space station. When they made a move to rescue him, this same bounty hunter was also present. He was mortally wounded in the ensuing fight and admitted to Jessica and Commander Ardai that it was he who set the bomb, killing Admiral Grimshaw, and that he did so under Kerrick's orders."
Dajani swallowed. "I'm still not sold," he said, but she could see that he was.
"Have it your way," Kingston said, rising from the seat and walking to the door. She opened it. "I am going to leave this door open, Professor. If you truly believe there is no threat to your safety, then by all means feel free to walk from this room and contact Kerrick. Tell him everyone is here. Turn them all in. Let's see how long it takes him to have you vaporised."
And with that she strode from the room. She leaned in close to Barbie and said, in a low voice, "If he walks out of that medical bay and makes any attempt to contact the Union, tear his arms from their sockets."
The Mantipor's eyes twinkled. "Doc, you're ruthless," Barbie said. "I like it."
* * *
Hawk helped Ardai with supplies and Dr. Kingston's personal items while all Captain Shaw could do was look on.
"Wish I could help," he said.
"Skipper, you're alright. We've got this."
"I feel like a goddamned leper."
Hawk laughed. "Well, least you don't look like one."
"True. I have that to thank I suppose," Shaw said.
Will thumbed in his direction. "Yeah, that's right. He may only have one eye, and hair like a badger, but he doesn't have the complexion of someone racked with plague."
"Wait a second, I don't have hair like a badger . . . do I?"
Will shrugged.
All Hawk could do was laugh.
"Hey, listen, you really are Gerard Nowlan, aren't you?"
Hawk nodded. "One and the same."
"I still can't wrap my head around you being here," Shaw admitted. "Like, how it's possible."
"It's a long story," Hawk sighed. "And probably won't make sense even after I've told it to ya."
"You're probably right. And can I just ask, is that the famous kataan?"
Hawk took it off his belt and flicked it out, the blade glimmering under the lights. "Same one."
"Damn!"
"You should have seen him in action back at Amity," Will said. "It was quite something."
"Aw shucks, fellas. You're making me blush."
He put the weapon away. Professor Dajani approached them. "Excuse me, but your Mantipor friend told me to report here. He said you'd find me a bunk."
Shaw clapped him on the back. "Good. You came to see sense. Go on inside, the little furry fella, goes by the name of Punk. He'll sort you out."
"Thank you," Dajani said, dejectedly, as if he'd been administered a good kick to the fruits.
"Oh, Einstein?"
Dajani turned back.
"Barbie is a girl, and a sensitive, caring one at that. I'd suggest not referring to her as a male to her face, that is, if you like your arms and legs where they are."
Dajani swallowed. "Understood."
He hadn't even cleared the ramp before they'd started laughing uncontrollably.
* * *
"And he agreed to testify?" Jessica asked in her Mother's office.
"I gave him the choice. I left the door open, told him he could call Kerrick himself if he wanted. Report us all."
"Oh," Jessica said, less than pleased. "Isn't that a bit . . . risky for a scientist?"
"You don't get anywhere without taking a risk or two," Kingston told her.
"So then what?"
"He apparently walked out and asked Barbie to tell me he would do what we asked, then he asked her where he should go. Barbie sent him straight to the Spectre, I believe."
"So, that's that in place. He really is the key to all of this," Jessica said.
Kingston reached inside her desk and produced a data tablet. She laid it on the top.
"What's that?"
"My resignation. Once all of this is over, however it goes, I'm done. I want to be far away from all of this."
"I don't blame you. What about renewal?"
Dr. Kingston shrugged. "I got it started. I'm sure the team here, Doctor Caise in particular, can continue my work. I leave it to others now."
"What will you do?"
Her Mother looked away. A picture hung on the wall, showing a vast green landscape, tall mountains in the distance. A lake, with the sun bleeding into it. "I think perhaps I'll work on a little renewal of my own."
14.
Captain Shaw walked the length of the Spectre, headed for the bridge. He looked left and right, as he always did, casually watching for anything amiss that might require his immediate attention. It was simply an old habit of his, one that he was sure might save his life one day.
He walked past the crew quarters and had to double back. Lying across a bottom bunk, his pale legs dangling over one side, the hybrid had his hands folded on his chest, his eyes closed.
Shaw felt his pulse quicken, and his hand instinctively went to his holster – empty. He ran a hand across his chin.
"Somethin' up, mate?" Punk asked.
Shaw jumped out of his skin. The problem with having soft-pawed colleagues was that they could creep up on you unawares. "Jesus! Don't do that!" Shaw hissed.
The hybrid didn't even stir.
Shaw walked farther down the corridor, the Alpor in tow.
"What's got you spooked?"
"Er, that thing in there!? I know I agreed to have it aboard, but . . . can't I change my mind?"
Punk chuckled. "Captain, you surprise me. Honest, you do."
"Look, it's not just that he's–"
Punk laid a paw on him. "Skipper, he's sedated. I told him I was doing it, he just nodded his head and accepted it. What I gave him, he won't wake up for days."
Shaw breathed a sigh of relief. "Thanks," he said, then something occurred to him. "Wait a minute. How will we wake him for the trial?"
Punk dug inside his pocket, produced a small vial of pink coloured liquid. "This stuff's so potent, it'd wake a Cachalotian whale from a hundred-year hibernation."
"Good. What about Doctor Kingston?"
Punk scratched the side of his head. "Think she's comin' aboard soon. I've given her the nice quarters, her bein' a lady an' all."
"Nice quarters? Whose are they?"
Punk walked off. Over his shoulder he said, "Yours."
* * *
Will stood against the counter in the mess aboard the Spectre, his coffee cup in hand. Jessica sipped at hers. A strange silence stretched out between them, as if all that could be said had already taken place. Now there was only the inevitable.
"So . . . you'll hold off someplace until they announce the trial," Jessica said, to break the quiet in the room.
"Yeah. Once we know when it's going to take place, I'll contact your defence and tell them who I have with me. Of course, you'll have to clue him or her in before that."
"I know. They can then wait for you to make contact, and we can go from there."
Will nodded. He sipped his drink, she sipped hers. "I hate these awkward silences," he said.
"Me too." She smiled.
"Have you ever thought of not handing yourself in? Running away with me somewhere, living out our lives in peace?"
"They'd find us."
"I know places. I also know people. We could disappear."
"I wouldn't want to run because I had to, because I was afraid I might get killed," Jessica said. "I want to live, and I want to do the right thing."
"And see justice served?"
"And that."
"Have you given any thought to the possibility this all might fail?"
She looked down. "I try not to think about it."
"Jess, look at me," he said. She did as he asked. "I know this will work, because you say it will. Don't be afraid."
"I'm not."
"Maybe you don't look it, but I know you. I can see it. As well as you mask your feelings in front of everyone else, I see right through you. I would be feeling the same way."
"I don't worry about myself, I worry about the others having to spend time in prison for something I am responsible for, Will."
"Look," he said, putting his cup down on the side. "If it all goes south, at least you know I'll be around to break you out of prison."
"Thanks. It's such a load off."
He opened his arms. "See? That's what I'm here for."
* * *
Kalar rose from behind the helm. "Permission to head to my quarters, sir?"
"Of course. I'll continue the purging of the intakes, Kay. Go do whatever you need to," Shaw said.
"Thank you, Captain. I have a tremendous case of cramp in two of my tentacles."
"Knock yourself out," Shaw said, moving aside for the Xantian as he slithered past.
Will appeared at the entrance to the bridge and ducked out of the way.
"Thanks," Kalar said as he went past.
"He alright?" Will asked.
"I think he just needs to stretch his, uh, tentacles."
"Oh, right," Will said. He sat down at one of the stations. It always felt peculiar to be aboard the Spectre with neither the engines online nor the reactor operating at full power. The ship seemed awfully quiet. "Jessica's making her move."
"Okay."
"I wanted to take a moment and thank you, sir."
Shaw frowned. "Hey, what are you thanking me for? Wasn't it you who saved my life? Came and rescued me from certain death back on Amity?"
"You would have done the same for me, were the boot on the other foot."
"Yeah, but how do you know?" Shaw asked, a cocky grin on his face.
Will was all business, completely serious, his face like stone. "I want to thank you for helping Jess out the way you are, going along with this – admittedly – crazy plan."
"For my own part, this is all about seeing the investigation through to the end," Shaw said. "And honouring Grimshaw's memory."
Will looked down. There was a trail of mucousy slime from the cockpit to the door. "You know, he really is a messy bugger."
"Ain't he just?" Shaw leaned over the helm console, and he attended to the beep emanating from the computer, signalling the completion of the purging cycle. "Hey Will. I want to ask you something."
"Skip?"
"Do we still have those units aboard? The Klexu prototypes?"
Ardai crossed his arms. "Uh, you mean the mobile holo projectors? Yeah they're down in the hold with all the other experimental equipment we seem to get lumbered with."
"Can they be programmed to bear a likeness to someone in the database?"
"I guess so. I'd have to ask Punk. You know he's the expert at that sort of thing. I wouldn't think it's beyond his capability, though."
The Klexu prototypes were intended to look and act like a real person, to cause a distraction or a minor diversion when running an op. But they were simply holograms. They could not move freely, for they were tied to the mobile device itself. But the image could stand and interact with real people long enough to be used as a decoy. They had used them once, back on Koenig VI. Punk had programmed one to look just like Captain Shaw, eye patch and all. It had even fired holographic weapons fire. The sixty-five seconds it brought them was the difference between life and death. But since then, they had not used them. They collected dust in the hold, along with their top secret counterparts.
Shaw smiled, slowly. Will could almost hear the gears grinding together between the skipper's ears.
"Good . . ."
"Why? If you don't mind my asking, what, exactly, have you got planned?"
"Something brilliant, Will my old buddy. I can't believe I didn't think of it sooner."
"What is it?"
Shaw's face became instantly serious. "Revenge."
* * *
Dr. Kingston embraced Jessica at the entrance to the facility, arms wrapped around her, holding her daughter against her chest.
"I've only just gotten to know you, and now I'm saying goodbye," she said, her voice cracked and tearful.
"This isn't a final farewell," Jessica assured her. "Trust me."
Her Mother held her at arm's length, studied her. It's strange, Jessica thought, how much I see myself in her. Does she feel the same way? Does she perhaps look at me and see a younger version of herself?
"I . . . I am so proud of you, Jessica. All that you've overcome. You are not the sum of what was thrown your way. I only wish I could have been a Mother to you. It will be my deepest regret. Always."
"Mother, you will get a chance to make up for lost time. We both will," she stepped back from her. "I promise."
"Good luck."
Jessica smiled weakly, pulled her guard over her nose and mouth and walked out into a raging sand storm. She had to fight the wind to get to the yacht, but she managed it. Hawk, Selena and Meryl were waiting for her. Jessica closed the access hatch behind her, the moan of the wind abruptly cut off.
What tears there had been in her eyes had, thankfully, blow away in the wind.
Hawk brought the engines online. "Are we ready to blow this joint?"
"We are," Jessica said. Not since Captain Singh's passing had she felt such terrible loss. Walking away from her Mother, doing what she was about to do, seemed the most impossible thing in the world.
Yet, she was doing it.
Meryl's hand fell on her shoulder. "Are you okay?"
She nodded. "Yes."
"Everybody hold on to yer hats!" Hawk's hands deftly controlled the yacht's helm, taking her to a stable hover, then taking off, up into the air. They rose through the storm and past it, so that the swirling vortex fell away behind them. Ahead lay the thinning atmosphere as they climbed and beyond that, the darkness of space.
Hawk turned around. "Incoming from the Spectre. I'll put it up on the speakers."
"Hey," it was Will's voice.
"We read you," Jessica said. "What is it?"
"I just wanted to say, to all of you, good luck."
Jessica smiled. "Thanks."
"And that we've got your backs."
"It's appreciated!" Meryl yelled.
Captain Shaw came on the line. "We'll be ready and waiting," he said.
"Thank you. And we'll be relying on it."
"Don't you fret, we'll get Kerrick back for everything he's done. We'll have vengeance and justice. Good luck, Captain King."
"And to you, Captain Shaw."
The line went dead.
"I feel so nervous," Selena admitted.
"I think we all do," Meryl said.
Jessica looked ahead, the air fading to nothing in front of them, the yacht racing toward the stars. Hawk counted down, then punched the lever for the Jump Drive, and she closed her eyes.
Good luck to all of us.
15.
Lisa risked long-range communications with Station 6 to hear Admiral Kerrick's response to the data packet. He did not disappoint.
"Captain, your orders are to hold your position until further notice."
Chang's jaw tightened. "Sir, you're not sending the fleet immediately?"
"Negative. The fleet is scattered throughout the galaxy, it will take some time to gather them in one place for a full frontal assault. Hold tight, Captain, and continue to monitor the Amarax."
"Do you know how long, sir?"
"Not at this minute. I have pressing matters to attend to here, but will keep you appraised. Kerrick out."
The line went dead. Dana looked up. "He's gone, Captain."
"I'd get more from the static," Chang spat, rising from the Captain's chair to stalk the bridge in anger. "Sends us here on a wild goose chase, then tells us to sit and wait. Meanwhile, Cessqa is up to something out there."
"What do we do?" Banks asked.
She turned to her second-in-command, was about to answer, when a proximity alert sounded.
Banks looked up, his eyes wide. "Incoming ship!"
"Shields to full strength," Chang ordered. She resumed her place in the chair. "How did it sneak up on us like that?"
"I don't know, but it's closing in fast. Ten seconds until it makes sensor contact."
"The transmission," Dana said. "They could have used that to triangulate our position."
"Whatever it was, they've found us," Chang said grimly. "Everyone brace for impact. Ensign Gordon, get ready to move."
"Here it comes!" Banks watched the viewscreen, his hands clamped to either side of his station in expectation of the coming weapons strike. The small black ship flew straight over them, but did not fire.
"Doctor?"
Gentry looked up from his readouts. "It made sensor contact. It made a full scan of our hull."
"Why didn't it fire?"
"My theory is that it is some kind of drone. Unarmed, possibly unmanned also. They've sent it out to confirm the fact we really are here."
"Where is it heading now?"
"Back to the Amarax."
Banks swallowed. "Which means the next time something comes by it'll be shooting."
"I agree," Chang said.
Ensign Gordon turned to face her. "Captain, what do we do?"
"If there's one thing I'm not doing, it's sitting here with my hands in my lap. They've seen us, they know we're here. I think it's time we went and said hello."
"Orders?" Banks asked.
Chang strapped herself in. "Sound red alert."
"Aye."
The bridge lights dipped to a heavy red, an emergency klaxon wailed around them.
"Helm, exit the debris field. Then bring us about, C plus twenty-thousand metres," Chang ordered.
"Yes Captain," Ensign Gordon replied. The Intrepid turned, the Ensign steering her free from the debris.
"Lieutenant Oriz, contact command. Tell them we are moving to make contact with the Namar," Chang said.
"Yes Ma'am," Dana was already relaying the message.
Concern clouded Banks's features. "Captain, we're in direct violation of orders."
"Only partially true, Kyle. The Admiral didn't say anything about what to do if they spotted us. In these circumstances I'm well within my powers to act accordingly."
"I was hoping you'd say that."
"Secondly, I'm forcing his hand. He'll have no choice but to rally support and get them here fast as possible."
"Perhaps it would be best if I were present in engineering," Chief Kolvin offered. "Particularly if you expect a frosty reception."
Chang smiled thinly. There was little humour in it. "Might be a wise choice, Chief."
"What if they don't want to engage us in a dialogue?" Dr. Gentry asked.
Chang's resolve was iron. "Then, Doctor, we will match fire with fire."
* * *
The Captain's yacht came to settle gently on the floor of Station 6's main hangar. Hawk shut everything down and turned to face them all.
"Equalizin' pressure. In two minutes we'll be outside, facin' the music."
Jessica stood, straightened her tunic. Meryl, Selena and Hawk watched her.
"You know, I've always worn this uniform with pride," she told them. "But I've never prouder to do so than today. What we're doing is either incredibly courageous, or incredibly stupid. Either way, it is the only choice."
The air lock beeped, the light above it changing from red to green. Hawk looked back through the cockpit window. "Looks like the cavalry is already on its way."
No less than two dozen armed officers sprinted toward the yacht, followed by both Admiral Cantrell and Admiral Jameson and their subordinates. Jessica peered out. "Oh, look. And here's the snake himself."
Behind both Cantrell and Jameson strode Admiral Kerrick, his face dark as thunder, mouth screwed into a tight knot with rage.
"Fella looks upset," Hawk said.
"What a pity. Shall we then?"
Meryl opened the hatch. Jessica led the way, and they exited the craft single file. The armed officers aimed their weapons, shouted orders for them to put their hands behind their heads and drop to their knees. Jessica did as she was told. Meryl, Selena and Hawk followed suit.
Admiral Cantrell stood behind his men.
"Captain Jessica King, you and your co-conspirators are hereby placed under arrest, to await trial at the earliest possible convenience."
Jessica smiled.
"Music to my ears."
Valiant
1.
The Intrepid swept through the debris fields.
Small shards of rock and ice impacted against the starship's energy shield, disintegrating in bright flashes. They did little to slow the craft, Ensign Gordon handled the Intrepid with the same deft skill Kyle Banks had displayed in his tenure flying the Defiant.
Banks stood behind the Ensign, hand on the back of her chair, and Captain Chang could see that little had changed – he may not have sat in the pilot seat himself, but in his head, he was still there.
"That's it. A few degrees to port. Level her out. Watch that big rock on the right. Proximity alarm, you need to drift a bit, give it a wide berth . . ." he told the Ensign, guiding her as to how he would handle the Intrepid. For her part, Gordon did as she was told. She followed every instruction, eager to learn the ropes and master the helm controls as her mentor had. But Chang could see the young pilot was growing steadily impatient with being micromanaged – especially when she had an entire ship to control.
"Kyle, perhaps you should let the Ensign fly the ship. I might need you at the tactical station," Chang said.
He turned to look at her, was about to say something, and thought better of it. "Yeah, you're right," he said and made his way to tactical. It was all Chang could do to suppress a smile. She remembered how he'd been aboard the Defiant, and it only served to make her feel that much more displaced from what had seemed good times. Now, here they were, facing down the Namar, on their own. One ship against a mobile battle fleet. At least until some of the Union fleet arrived to support their efforts.
"Approaching the Amarax," Gentry reported. "Ten seconds until we're in communication range."
"Thank you Doctor. Banks, go to red alert."
"Red alert, aye," he said, sliding the controls to one side. The lights dimmed to that familiar shade of red that was almost blood, almost wine – so dim it was hardly any kind of light at all. "Laser canons charged. Torpedoes primed and in the tubes."
"Energy shield?" Chang asked as another object burned up upon impact with it, accompanied by a flash of light. "We've taken a steady pounding from these things. How's it holding up?"
"Ninety-seven percent," Banks said.
Oriz glanced over her shoulder. "Captain shall I attempt a comm. link? We're in range now."
"Do," Chang said. "Establish the link but don't transmit anything yet."
"Aye,"
Gordon turned the Intrepid to bring her alongside the inner ring of debris, directly parallel to the Amarax's position. The sun glared around the edges of the giant black cylinder. The latticed cobweb structure to the side of it looked different thanit had when Chip called it in. It had changed, somehow. "I hope you're getting a good reading of whatever that is," Chang told Gentry.
The Doctor looked up. "It is quite fascinating. An exact hexagon on the outside. The black lattice within is completely symmetrical in design. This is not a thing of nature, Captain. Even a spider's web is imperfect. This is an artificial construct."
"On that I concur, Doctor," Chang said. She stepped up to this station and looked at his readings for herself. "See that?"
He nodded. "Yes. The energy readings are increasing. I theorise it is drawing energy directly from the sun. Capturing it and building a charge."
"Like any good battery . . ."
"Yes!"
Chang turned to look at the forward viewscreen, biting her bottom lip. There was no doubt they'd been monitored as they approached. No doubt that they were being observed.
"Do you think that's what they were coming here for? That it was left behind for them?"
"Quite possibly. I do not see how it could have been constructed in so short a time."
Chang returned to the Captain's chair. "Dana, anything on the comm?"
"We have a connection, but nothing from them so far."
"Send a standard greeting. Tell them who we are and that we mean no hostile intent. Set it to repeat until they answer."
Banks tensed. He looked over his shoulder at her, his eyes widened. "We may not have to wait too long for their response . . ."
Chang looked at the forward viewscreen. The Amarax opened in front of them, as it had when the Defiant had confronted Cessqa and entered into battle with her. It opened until it was not one cylinder, but three, held to one another by a long spine, an axle upon which all three rotated. A dozen fighters emerged from the central cylinder, followed by two larger ships similar in design to those Chang had seen before.
"Here they come," she said. She buckled herself in. "Everyone, prepare for battle."
* * *
Cessqa watched her ships depart to engage the human vessel, then turned her attention to the Array. For as long as she had slept, waiting to be woken, waiting to continue the work of her people, the Array had rested undisturbed in a long-forgotten star system. Hidden within the dark recesses of the Chimera Cluster, it was the key to the resurrection of the Namar – long since consigned to the shadows of the past.
Her people had mastered the various facets of building starships. The Amarax itself stood testament to their ingenuity in that regard. Their mastery of the sciences had helped to prolong the lives of the Namar with biomechanical enhancements, building a stronger race. Generations of cold, clinical genetic manipulation and, as with any significantly advanced civilisation, they began to consider the workings of time. To prevent death entirely lay beyond even their abilities, but the mastering of time . . . that was a different matter.
Cessqa monitored her people, stalking back and forth behind them as they worked to bring the Array online.
Throughout the galaxy, there were various relics of a bygone era – a time before intelligence when a race of titans roamed the stars – monolithic relics left in their wake, untouched by the ravages of time. The Namar documented and gained access to countless numbers of such relics. The explorers had not succeeded in unlocking all of the secrets these relics held, but had been able to determine that the ancient tech could be used to manipulate time. However it could only be used to travel to the past. Forward movement through the timeline proved impossible, despite their attempts to achieve it.
The Array was the result of years spent studying the relics of that ancient race. By trapping the energies of the sun, drawing it as a mosquito draws blood from a host, the Array would allow a pathway through the interstices of space-time itself – a conduit to the past. The ghosts of the Namar would live again.
In the present.
She watched her ships race toward the human intruder. "How long until the Array is ready?" she asked her people.
"Six days to produce a stable conduit."
She grimaced. Six days. It was too long. She had not counted on the humans' ability to track the Amarax. Still, it was of no matter. They would find the time. After all, time would solve all of their problems. And what could one ship possibly do to stop her?
2.
"Patch me through to them. Hopefully she'll hear me and we can put an end to this before it goes too far," Chang told Dana.
The Lieutenant did as she was told. She shook her head as her attempts proved futile. "They're blocking us."
Chang chewed the side of her mouth. "Put me on intership audio. I want everyone aboard to hear."
"You're on."
"This is the Captain. We are under imminent attack from the Namar. I want every available pilot to get to their fighters. Squadron Commanders to follow protocol in assigning duties. All other key personnel, man your stations. Captain out."
"Incoming fighters in thirty seconds," Banks said. "Shall I increase power to shields? I can divert from–"
"No. Not yet. We might need that option later. Get ready to give them a wide burst on my command."
On the viewscreen, the fighters swarmed ahead of the two larger ships.
All the while you're getting what you want, aren't you? Chang thought. You're keeping us occupied. Not allowing us to interfere with what you're doing.
She looked at the web of black material, and the Amarax next to it. Her thoughts turned to the bomb she'd asked the Chief to put together for her.
As soon as I have a chance . . .
"Ten seconds."
"Fire!"
The laser canons ranged along the Intrepid's hull unleashed their fury against the Namar fighters – short bursts of volatile energy that peppered the immediate space between them. One fighter was torn instantly apart. Another collided with the resultant debris and spun away, damaged and without power. The majority made it through, firing their weapons at the Intrepid. She trembled from the hits to her shields.
"Damage report."
"Negligible," Gentry announced. "Shields are holding."
The two larger vessels came at them like black arrows. They broke left and right, firing beams of energy that lanced out and sizzled against the Intrepid's shielding. Chang narrowed her eyes against the glare. The Intrepid shook around her. "Return fire. Tubes one and two, target the vessel to starboard."
"Aye!" Banks worked the controls, switching the canons to automatic computer control, and firing the torpedoes manually. They flared away, tumbling at speed and closing the gap between the Namar ship and the Intrepid. They struck it broadside aft, both torpedoes punching through its hull.
The other vessel swooped in for another attack, energy beam cutting a solid line into the shields. They spat and popped at the effort of dissipating the energy overload. Meanwhile, the other ship came about in a wide arc, firing its own weapon.
"Shields dropping to eighty-five percent," Gentry reported.
The Intrepid's canons spat bursts of rapid fire at the fighters sweeping across its stern. They sped across the bridge, the laser fire following them. The Intrepid shuddered where their weapons hit.
"Fire tube three directly ahead of those fighters," Chang gripped the sides of her chair.
Banks frowned. "Captain, why–"
"Do it. Get ready to blow it up."
The torpedo whirled away from the Intrepid's front end, a ball of shimmering light that burst through the tightly formed squadron of fighters and continued on past them.
"Slow the torpedo, get ready to detonate."
"Aye. Slowing."
"Ready?"
"Yes Ma'am," Banks said.
"Do it."
The instantaneous giant ball of white hot energy burst apart at Chang's command. The shockwave knocked all of the fighters away. "Now pick them off," Chang said coolly.
"Really?" Banks asked, uncertain.
"I said pick them off."
Don't question my orders in a fight. Not when our own lives are at stake.
Banks nodded, though she could see he wasn't happy about it. "Aye," he said.
"Captain, the Amarax is launching more fighters to support," Gentry said.
She nodded grimly. "Okay let's finish with these."
Banks looked over his shoulder. "Tubes five and six primed."
"Target those two ships," Chang said.
"Ready."
"Fire!"
The torpedoes arced away, one to each ship. One of the Namar vessels blew apart on impact, the other turned end over end, dead in the water, powerless even to correct its own crazy course through the void.
"All targets either destroyed or inactive," Gentry reported. "Reinforcements inbound."
With each wave we lose people, we lose shields . . .
"Dana, contact command. Alert them to the situation here. No need to encrypt, just ensure it gets through. Request immediate support," Chang ordered.
"Yes Captain."
"Helm, bring us about. Begin evasive manoeuvres."
Ensign Gordon nodded sharply. "Aye. Bringing us about."
"Kyle, the situation on our fighters?"
He changed the forward viewscreen to show the hangar bay doors opening. "Launching now."
Squadrons of fighters left the imagined safety of the Intrepid, tearing out and forming into tight groups behind their carrier. Banks restored the image to show the incoming Namar ships.
"Order the fighters to engage the enemy at will," Chang said. She felt uneasy at putting those pilots between them and the enemy, but saw little choice. It was what they were trained for. If they could buy the Intrepid some time, they might have a shot at lasting until help arrived.
If.
On the screen, it was a case of déjà vu. Only this time, there were three times the numbers of fighters. Their number filled the screen edge to edge. They were accompanied by not two but six of the larger vessels – black, angular in design. Completely identical, like six black daggers heading in for the kill.
"If we can take out those ships at the rear, our fighters can hold their own against the Namar," Banks said.
Chang's mind raced to make a decision, the Intrepid only seconds away from another round of fighting. "They can outmanoeuvre us. They will be difficult to hit and will easily have us tripping over our own feet. And Cessqa knows it."
"Then what would you have me–"
"We will engage the fighters. Dana, tell our ships to concentrate their efforts on those six vessels. Kyle, get ready to provide cannon fire."
"Aye," Banks said, though she could tell he was sceptical.
I know what he's thinking: if those bigger ships can outmanoeuvre us, of course the Namar fighters can. But I have an idea of how to deal with them, and it'll be easier than having a multitude of dogfights around the Intrepid . . .
Dr. Gentry counted down. "Enemy will be in range in ten . . . nine . . . eight . . ."
"Helm, full stop. Reverse all engines."
"Full stop, aye!" Gordon shouted. "Reversing all engines. Everyone hang on!"
The sudden shift in inertia had them all lurching forward. Chang looked to Banks. "Fire! All canons, blow them out of the sky!"
His fingertips darted across the control panel. The Intrepid's canons answered his every command with bursts of laser fire. They sprayed their firepower into the oncoming swarm. The small ships detonated on impact which sent those around them into a hazardous spin to avoid being blown to smithereens.
The fighters from the Intrepid cut through them, free to engage the six at the rear in combat. The Namar fighters that survived the initial onslaught from the Intrepid's canons sped past, unable to compensate both for being shot at, and having her suddenly decelerate, reversing before they could reach her.
"Helm, starboard one-eighty-degrees. C plus five thousand metres," Chang ordered. "Engines to one half thrust."
"Aye!"
"Loading aft torpedo tubes," Banks said intuitively.
Chang smiled. "You read my mind."
He winked at her.
Gentry looked up. "Fighters coming back around . . ."
"Tubes ready."
"Fire all tubes ahead of those fighters. Detonate as before."
The viewscreen shifted to the aft cameras. The torpedoes drifted away from the Intrepid, the fighters were almost upon them. Banks detonated all six torpedoes manually. They blossomed into small supernovas of light and energy that the Namar fighters ploughed into, powerless to turn back at such short notice. A few made it through the carnage, firing their weapons across the Intrepid, smashing into the energy shielding. The ship shook, the overloaded shields causing the power to dip inside the Intrepid. The lights intermittently went off, then on again.
"Training our canons to take them out," Banks said, voice tense with concentration.
"Helm, alter course to assist our fighters," Chang ordered.
"Yes Captain."
Chang patched herself through to Engineering. "Chief, this is the Captain. How're we holding up down there?"
"Shields are weakening," Kolvin said on the other end. In the background, voices shouted over one another, his people in a mad panic to hold the ship together. "I'm adjusting power output to compensate."
"Will they hold?"
"Not under a constant barrage like this, no. We had a secondary coupling blow out. I've sent the injured to sickbay."
"Understood. Alert me if anything else comes up."
"Yes Ma'am."
She closed the channel. The Intrepid turned, the Ensign throwing full power to the starboard engines and shifting the port-side propulsion to reverse thrust. The ship almost turned on the spot, a tight manoeuvre that brought the battle between the Intrepid's fighters and the angular ships from the Amarax into immediate view.
"How many have we lost?"
"We launched a total of twenty-six fighters. We have lost eight so far," Gentry replied. "There are still four of the Namar ships active."
"Damn." She'd hoped for much better. And to lose eight souls like that. So fast . . .
Ensign Gordon threw the Intrepid forward at full thrust. "Closing the gap, Captain."
Chang drew a deep breath. "Okay. Banks, get ready with everything you have. Let's make a difference."
3.
Dr. Ira Vassili sorely wanted to smoke.
The wounded from the Engineering room continued to fill up the sickbay, pushing him to draft in extra support to help deal with them. The men and women who'd been closest to the blown coupling were burned badly. Their faces and hands bright red, their voices crying in agony. To treat such burns was a relatively minor procedure, but it took time – time Vassili did not think he had. He instructed his supporting staff to apply the creams where they were needed, then escort the wounded to their quarters. They could heal just as well there as they could in the sickbay. At least they wouldn't be taking up precious beds for something that was not a life-threatening injury. Centuries before, those who were burned when the coupling blew would have risked blood poisoning, shock, and permanent scarring. Within twelve hours of applying the cream, modern burn patients would forget the trauma ever happened.
"Come on, let's hurry and get these people out of here," the Doctor snapped. "We will have real wounded here soon enough. Mark my words."
He hurried to one of the service entrances and walked to the back, where it was dark. He fumbled a cigarette from the packet in his trouser pocket, slipped it between his lips, and lit it. The Russian drew on it, breathed a sigh of relief that sent the vapours into the open waste disposal chute. It felt good. So, so good. The chaos in the medical bay was hushed by the walls around him, and there in the dark he found peace. He smoked; he relaxed; he readied himself for the real medical emergencies that would be coming his way. Vassili had been in battles before. He knew just what to expect.
There would be no time to smoke later on.
* * *
"Turn, turn, turn!" Chang yelled, flinching, waiting for the hits to come. Three ships fired in unison, forming a tight delta wing that cut through the Intrepid's shields like knives through butter.
The bridge shook around her, metal on metal rattling as if the entire ship were constructed from pots and pans.
"Shields at fifty-seven percent!" Gentry cried, hanging onto his station for dear life.
"Return fire!" Chang called out. Banks did not answer her, except with the roaring fury of the Intrepid's canons. They chased the Namar's tails, caught them from behind, and blew them apart in a white haze of explosive power. "Target the last ship. Launch torpedoes."
"Aye!"
The Intrepid turned. The last of the six ships came about to meet her, head on. Chang leaned forward, her face slick with sweat. Smoke pumped from one of the reserve stations, from an electrical fire Dana had dealt with moments before. The bridge stank of burning plastic, perspiration, and extinguisher that the filters struggled to pull from the air.
"She is locking weapons. Preparing to fire."
The two ships rushed toward one another. Chang beat the side of her chair with her fist, caught up in the moment. "Fire! Fire!"
Two of their torpedoes tumbled toward the ship, and to her astonishment, it weaved out of the way. The torpedoes took their time turning to follow their target, as the Namar ship led them directly into the front of the Intrepid. They erupted against the energy shield, and clamped into the Intrepid's nose with awful, heavy thunder.
"The energy shield along the bow is out of action," Gentry reported, coughing on the smoke, waving a hand in front of his face. "Dorsal section crumbling. We are about to lose our protection."
"Target all canons on that ship. Fire immediately."
"Yes Captain," Banks said, firing all that they had at the ship. The viewscreen changed to show their port side aft. The canons fired at the ship as it made a pass, punching through its hull and disabling it. The black ship tumbled away, powerless. Two of the Intrepid's fighters buzzed past, fired into it and blew it apart.
Chang slumped into the Captain's chair. She felt exhausted already. "We need to get some cover until we can restore our shield. Dana, recall our fighters."
"Yes Captain," Dana said, talking into her comm. equipment, holding the earpiece in place, her face set with concentration.
Doctor Gentry coughed. "Captain, it would appear the Amarax is launching yet more ships."
"Banks?"
He turned to look at her. "They're aboard. Hangars closing."
"Excellent. Helm, get us out of here."
"Where to?" Banks asked.
Chang ran a hand over her face. It felt good. She folded her arms. "We'll go to the other side of the sun. Exactly opposite to the Amarax," Chang said, a plan forming in her mind. "Ensign, take us around the sun, maximum speed."
"Yes, Captain," she said, the Intrepid already heading off.
Banks swivelled about, legs braced on the deck. "What's the plan?"
"We'll hold position there on the other side, out of their sight. Then we will launch a probe either side of us, to maintain orbit in a fixed position, forming an equilateral triangle of sorts."
"Ah," Banks said, grinning. "We'll use the probes to monitor their activity, without being spotted ourselves."
"I'm sure we can find a suitable asteroid to mask our presence, should Cessqa send a ship after us."
"A good plan. But then what?"
She sat back down. The Intrepid raced toward the sun of that strange, alien system. A shattered kingdom of broken planets and moons – a sanctuary for Cessqa and whatever it was she had in her possession. Chang crossed one leg over the other as she watched the viewscreen.
"Restore our shields. Then we head back. It's clear to me that Cessqa is trying to hide whatever it is she is doing, at whatever cost. It's important to her. I plan on going back and disabling the Amarax from the inside."
Banks frowned. "How?"
"When we're safely on the other side, hidden from enemy eyes, I'll explain everything," she promised.
* * *
In Chief Kolvin's experience, starship Captains rarely, if ever, considered how something would get done – they took it for granted that someone would see to it that it just did. Luckily for the Intrepid, the Chief had his wits about him. The order to head toward the sun appeared on his status boards, and he did his best to act quickly. The forward energy shields were completely down. What Chang and the others had failed to consider was that heading toward a sun, with a section of the energy shielding inoperative, was tantamount to suicide.
But fixing the forward shield projectors would take time – more time than was available to him – and so he had to think on his feet. Kolvin took the only option open to him, and prayed that it worked.
"Chief, I feel I should remind you that the hull of the Intrepid is only rated to take a certain amount of heat and radiation. This close to the sun, we are already at–"
He waved him over to where he was working. "Chip, watch this, will you? You might learn something."
"But Chief–" the Droid's voice sounded anguished, if that were even possible.
Kolvin fixed him with a glare that would have melted iron. "Here."
Chip stood next to him. Kolvin shifted to one side so that the droid could see exactly what it was he was doing. "Ah. I see, Chief."
Kolvin manipulated the shield emitters on either side of the unprotected bow section, and shifted their angle. On his monitor their range of cover moved to protect the front as well as their own portions of the Intrepid's external structure – the energy shield now resembled the bud of a flower, the petals not yet opened, protecting the stamen within.
"It's not as powerful as having the real deal, but it's strong enough to handle that sun, and will last us until we can find somewhere to lay low."
"A very clever alteration," Chip said.
"I'm glad you approve. I actually think we can make permanent alterations to all of the emitters at some point," Kolvin told him.
The droid nodded. "Yes and in that way they will support one another, making the likelihood of a future breakdown less likely. We will have to take this to the Captain."
"Yeah, sure, when the chances of us being blown out of the sky aren't such a done deal," Kolvin said with a roll of his eyes.
"Of course."
Kolvin checked that the shields were holding as they should, then turned his attention back to the blown coupling that had injured so many of his people and put them out of action. "We're really tight down here, Chip. I don't know how that coupling went the way it did."
"A fault in its engineering, Chief. I have had the internal structure tested. It was not anything we could have taken precautions against."
"Human error," Kolvin said, shaking his head. "Years ago something like that would have been the death of those people."
"Lucky for them," Chip said.
"Yeah . . ." Kolvin said, voice trailing away as he pictured the victims of the blast being ferried to the medical bay, their skin torn, bright red from the burns, men and women crying in agony. Hard to think that a simple treatment from Vassili – coupled with ample rest – and they'd be back on their feet in no time with barely a scratch to say that they'd ever been hurt.
"I will continue with my work," Chip said.
Kolvin waved him off and called up to the bridge. "This is the Chief. You may have been noticing the temperature along the bow section rising at an alarming rate."
"This is Lieutenant Oriz. We were monitoring it, yes. It seems to be falling now."
"That's because we've managed to restore some energy shield cover to that section, which will get us safely past this sun and into hiding, barring a disaster."
"Oh, great. I thought I was going to have to call for the Captain."
"Where is the Captain?"
"She's stepped out for a moment with Lieutenant-Commander Banks. Would you like me to get her for you?"
"No, no. I'll check in on the bridge soon. Kolvin out."
He knew why Chang would have pulled Banks to one side – to share the knowledge of what she'd had Kolvin make for her. The sticky bomb, as she called it.
Kolvin didn't know about that. What he did know was that it would make for an awesome explosion when eventually it went off. Though preferably not while aboard the Intrepid . . .
* * *
Answering Kyle Banks's questions about the bomb, Chang decided she would let his moment on the bridge slide. Yes, she couldn't have him questioning her orders like that, not in front of the crew. But on the same token, there was a good chance that, if he accepted the mission to help deliver the bomb, he wouldn't live to tell the tale.
"It's in secure storage right now. Only myself, the Chief, Chip, and the Master at Arms know anything about it."
"Why the secrecy?"
Chang frowned. "What, just tell the crew we've made a Do-It-Yourself mega bomb that's completely experimental? Tell them that it just might detonate when it's reactivated for all we know? It's untested. Does that sound good to you?"
"Okay. I get it," Banks said. "So how are you delivering this bomb?"
"Well that's why I thought of telling you now," Chang said, walking back and forth in her quarters. "The Chief has modified a fighter to carry the bomb into the Amarax, but I'll need a good pilot . . ."
"You know you don't have to ask me, don't you?"
"Well . . ."
Banks smiled. "I'm sure there are other, better pilots aboard the Intrepid you could get to do it. But you need one you can trust, don't you?"
"It's why I have to ask. It could be suicide flying that bomb in there, attaching it, then getting out in time."
"I'll do it."
"Are you sure? I don't want you to feel that you have to. I've broken enough regulations having the Chief build the thing, let alone sending a man on a suicide run."
"It won't be suicide. I can do this."
She looked at him, wondered how she'd been so lucky to land him as her number one. "You know what? I'm getting tired of saying Lieutenant-Commander Banks. From now let's make it plain old Commander, huh?"
He saluted her. "Commander Banks, at your service."
The bridge alert sounded. Chang headed for the door. "Come on, let's get to work. Commander."
4.
They fought well.
Cessqa watched the human vessel depart, heading away from them with its tail between its legs. And yet it had destroyed a respectable number of their fighters and light attack drones. They'd proved themselves more than capable in combat. As the human Captain had before, when Cessqa held the Defiant at bay in order to allow the Amarax time to flee to the Chimera Cluster . . .
"Recall our ships," she ordered.
Beltine looked up. "Cessqa?"
"Do as I say. We must conserve our forces for what is to come."
"You expect more of the human ships?" Axrav asked from her station.
"Count on it. The humans have caught wind of what we are doing here, and they will make it their lot to ensure we are stopped."
"Our plan?" Beltine asked.
"Continue to prepare the Array. Have our forces ready to launch at a moment's notice." She stood next to the primary visual display, hands clasped behind her back. "We will fight until our last breath. We will fight until we can bathe the stars with their blood."
We will fight until we can call our brothers and sisters home.
* * *
The asteroid was the shape of a potato, and more than adequate in size to accommodate the Intrepid. A deep crater on one side, where the two ends of the rock curved upward, sat beneath the shadow cast by both bulbous ends and proved a perfect hiding place.
"Easy on those thrusters, Ensign," Banks warned Ensign Gordon.
He just can't help it, Chang thought. She shared a look with Dr. Gentry.
"We are two hundred metres above the surface," the Doctor said. "One hundred and eighty, one hundred and sixty . . ."
"Slow it down a bit," Banks urged her.
"I know," Gordon spat, growing impatient. "I've done this in the simulator a hundred times. Never crashed once. Sir."
"Difference with a simulator and real life is, here you only get one shot," Banks said. "You're landing a heavy starship on six spindly legs. On uneven terrain. The slightest miscalculation, we'll be stuck here."
"One hundred and forty, one hundred and thirty-five . . ."
Chang turned to see Chief Kolvin walk onto the bridge. "Chief? How're we doing down there?"
"Close to restoring the forward shield emitters."
"I heard about your modification. A fine idea. I took it for granted that the hull plating would take that kind of punishment," Chang said.
Kolvin shook his head. "Not with this class. Your old Archon class ship, it wouldn't have been a problem. A different alloy was used in the construction of the Intrepid."
"Why not go with what's tried and tested? The Defiant could withstand all kinds of punishment."
"Cost," Kolvin said. "But I shan't worry, Captain. I have a list of recommended modifications for when we return to the Station. I'll see to it we don't have this problem again. Believe me."
"You're going on the assumption we get to fly in her again," Chang said with a grin. "This could end up a one way trip."
Dana looked over. "Thanks for making me more scared than I was before . . ."
"One hundred and five . . . One hundred . . . ninety-five . . ." Gentry continued his countdown.
"The trick is matching the asteroid's movement, and holding her steady for descent at the same time. It's no mean feat," Banks said, returning to his station. He could feel the Ensign's tension with him hanging over her shoulder like a parrot.
"Extending landing gear," Ensign Gordon said, followed by the grinding of the gears as they rolled out beneath the ship. A loud clunk throughout the inside of the Intrepid meant that they'd been locked in place. "Firing thrusters to slow our descent further."
"I will admit I have never been on a ship of this size as it attempts a landing," Kolvin said. "I simply had to return to the bridge, if only to watch the Ensign at work."
"Thanks for the support," Gordon said. "And who said anything about attempting to land? We're doing it!"
"Eighty . . . seventy-five . . . seventy . . . sixty-five . . . sixty . . . fifty-five . . . fifty . . ."
The braking thrusters rumbled, the Intrepid slowing to a near halt a mere fifty metres above the surface of the asteroid. And then it happened very quickly. The Ensign settled the Intrepid upon its six landing gear. Their hydraulics absorbed the shock of making impact with the rock and dissipated that energy through the entire hull. Without such support, the Intrepid would have broken in two upon landing.
A slight jolt was all there was to say they'd landed. The Ensign breathed a heavy sigh of relief. Chang got up, walked to her, and gave the girl a pat on the shoulder. "You did well, Alanna. I think some down time is well earned."
"Thanks, Captain."
"That goes for all of us," Chang said. "I for one could do with a shower. I know you could, Kyle."
He frowned. "Huh?"
Gentry looked up. "I'd much prefer to analyse the data we collected from the Array."
"Go ahead. But grab something to eat first, will you? This is going to be one long day," Chang said, already unbuttoning her tunic. "I don't plan on facing another fight on an empty stomach."
"I will have us enter stealth mode," Kolvin said. "Shut down all but essential power until our repairs are made."
"Do it," Chang agreed. "Thankfully, they showed no sign of pursuing, and we're well hidden here."
"And the probes?" Gentry asked.
"When our repairs are completed, Doctor," Chang told him. "I don't want to risk our detection before we're back in fighting shape."
"Oh, very well," Gentry grumbled.
* * *
Cessqa walked through the central habitat and watched her people at work. Woken from their slumber of a thousand years, they had performed admirably thus far.
We are all prisoners of time, she thought, stepping aboard one of the trams that ran through the spine connecting the three cylinders together. Waiting for our people, our worlds, our whole civilisation to crumble to dust. Then returned to life, to open a doorway to the past . . .
She looked out at the ships, the weaponry they had been afforded.
Prisoners of time, and yet custodians of the future.
The Amarax was a marvel of engineering, a colossal achievement paled only by the Namar's significant achievements in the field of time travel. The ability to tap into the timeline, to head back through it.
She wondered if what was stopping them from going forward in time was not simply a limit to their powers, but the limit of time itself. If the future was written – as etched in stone as the past – then she saw no reason why future travel could not be possible. But if it were not written, if it were fluid as water around a stone, then that was a worthy explanation. It meant the present was in flux. Nothing was preordained. Her people had died, but there was nothing to say she could not pluck them from the past and bring them to the present.
The Amarax was the ark of the Namarians. And she, Cessqa, was their saviour.
The tram plunged into darkness as it sped toward the first habitat, the front cylinder where it was intended her crew would live. She closed her eyes.
Everything she had told Beltine and Axrav was correct. She knew it. The humans would return, would attack her, would try to stop the Array from burning a hole through time. It was what followed, logically.
But they would not succeed. They had had a taste of the forces at her disposal. When they arrived, the humans would know her full fury.
In the darkness, Cessqa smiled.
5.
Will Ardai carried the tray of food in one hand, doing a fine job of balancing it with a jug of water in the other. The hybrid was exactly where he'd been since coming aboard the Spectre.
On his bunk – not that his gigantic form actually fit on it.
"Hey, I thought you might be hungry."
The Namar-Human creation looked up. "Yes. I am."
Ardai set the tray down on the only surface in the quarters, a shelf barely large enough for the tray, that was usually covered in whatever the crew could fit on it. Pictures of their families, aftershave, things of that nature. Punk had been sure to clear everything out of the tiny room before assigning the hybrid to it, and for good reason.
The hybrid sat up, swung his big legs around and reached out to the tray. He picked up half of a sandwich and bit into it. "Reminds me of back home," he said, chewing at the same time.
"The training facility on Outland?"
It nodded.
"I guess that was home for you, huh?"
"Yes."
Ardai made to leave, then turned back. Something bugged him. It had bugged him since the thing arrived on board. "Hey, listen . . . do you have an actual name? Something we can call you by?"
The hybrid blinked, and it seemed to Will that it would not answer him. Then suddenly it spoke. "I am Plenty of Hate."
"Huh?"
"Plenty of Hate. That's what they called me. I was number twenty-eight. Plenty of Hate."
Will laughed. "I see. It makes sense. Maybe."
The hybrid chewed, swallowed, and reached for more. "Can you think of a better one?"
"How about just Plenty?"
"Plenty . . ."
"Yeah, it's sort of half your name. And it can mean many things. Plenty of hate, of course. And it can mean plenty of love. Plenty of compassion. Plenty of friendship."
The hybrid shrugged. "It will do."
Will didn't know if that was complimentary of his suggestion or not. He made his excuses and left the brute to eat. There would be plenty of time for more conversation later, he was sure.
* * *
As yet no-one had left the Spectre, even though it was moored to Station 6.
Professor Dajani took Kingston's bishop in another devastatingly swift move. He set it to one side, next to the board.
"You're steadily losing everyone, Doctor," he said.
Kingston bit her tongue. She made her move – nothing that was going to change the galaxy as she knew it. But it did get her one step closer to taking back her King . . .
"When will we get to leave this ship?" Dajani huffed.
Kingston glared up at him. "When it's time. You know that."
"Yes, yes, yes! But I grow tired of just sitting here. I mean, it smells on this ship. I'm not sure of what. Just something unpleasant."
"I wouldn't go telling them that. They're very proud of this little tub."
"Little dustbin more like it . . ." Dajani mumbled under his breath.
"Well, trust me, Professor. Nothing will give me greater pleasure than to get some distance from the likes of you," Kingston said, walking out of the room.
"Doctor?" Dajani watched her go. "Is it something I said?"
* * *
Captain Shaw sipped his coffee. He watched as other ships docked alongside the station, and for the briefest of moments, his mind wandered to the casino on the promenade.
Forget it, bud. You've been in enough trouble of late.
At that thought, he swallowed what he had in his mouth, and it no longer tasted like coffee. More like mud. Warm and gritty. He put the cup down, pulling a face. He still ached all over, but he was healing and that was the main thing.
And he wasn't gambling.
"Penny for yer thoughts?" Punk asked, walking onto the bridge.
"Oh, you know. Just going over everything. Will tell you I wanted to see you?"
Punk nodded. "Yeah, he didn't say what for though."
"I want you to program the Klexu emitters we're carrying."
The Alpor frowned. "I've never done that before."
"You saying you can't do it?"
"I didn't say that, did I? I said I've not done it before. There's a difference."
"Right. So can you?"
He shrugged. "With a little work, yeah. What's the thinking?"
Shaw tapped the side of his nose. "You'll see. Figure out how to get into their coding, and I'll tell you what I want."
"When do you want them by?"
"Yesterday?"
Punk rolled his eyes and started walking. "Guess I better start now then, eh?"
Shaw smiled and watched him go, then he turned back to the viewscreen. He watched the side of the station turn against the backdrop of the stars, and the myriad ships travelling back and forth from it. Despite everything, he still couldn't stop thinking about that casino. That wheel going round and around. Red, black, red, black . . .
6.
The Intrepid was eerily quiet with the power lowered to such an extent. Chief Kolvin quite liked it, though. He was used to doing his best work in a chaotic environment, so whenever he could experience peace, he savoured it. The ship slept around him as he oversaw the last of the repairs to the energy shield. Chip lifted a burned out converter as if it were a block of Styrofoam, not two tonnes of metal, he carried in his arms.
"That's it, boys and girls. Last few connecting cables . . . yeah, that one goes there, Smithy . . . no, Laura, red to blue. Yeah, that's it," Kolvin said, bent over, hands on his knees, watching everything they were doing. For most of them, the Intrepid's maiden journey was a training cruise, a real-life version of theoretical situations they'd all faced over and over in the simulators back at the Academy.
To say they'd performed admirably, given their lack of experience in the field, would have been an understatement. Kolvin hand picked each and every member of his team, and knew he had the crème de la crème when it came to engineering graduates. After all, he'd taught most of them.
Power flooded into the converter, and the men and women squatting in front of it let out a little cheer before bolting the wall panel back into place.
"That's it."
Chip cocked his head to one side.
"The pleasures of having a new ship. Everything takes half the time to fix."
"Amen to that!" one of the women – Traxler – chirped in.
Kolvin raised a white, bushy eyebrow at her and walked to the comm. panel on the wall. "Captain, this is the Chief. We have made all necessary repairs. We're in good shape."
"Thank you, Chief, I'll see you on the bridge."
* * *
Lisa showered, changed her clothes, grabbed a bowl of hot broth from the officer's mess, and felt like a real person again. Waiting to hear from the Chief, she'd decided to retire to her quarters and enjoy a pot of good Lapsang Souchong. Brewed as she would have had it as a child, at the dinner table. She sat on her sofa, feet up on the table in front, and sipped from the cup. It was hot, smoky tea, and in the dark quiet of her quarters, she felt completely relaxed. Hard to think that not long before the Intrepid had been in a full-blown battle with the Namar.
But there it was.
The taste of the tea reminded her of her childhood as much as it reminded her of her parents, of the night when she'd gone out with a group of other students from the Academy and introduced them to real Asian food, the kind they couldn't get from a supermarket. How they wrinkled their noses and pulled faces at the taste of the tea – to her it was restorative.
She thought of Olivia and it hurt that she couldn't contact her.
But I'll see you soon.
The door to her quarters chirped. "Come in!"
Doctor Gentry bounded in, his hands held in front of him, fingers fluttering nervously. "I need to speak with you."
"Doctor, you look unhinged. Take a seat," Chang said. She got up, raised the lights – though just a little. It looked as though the last thing Gentry needed was a sudden dose of intense illumination. She poured him a tea. He held the cup in slightly jittery hands.
He sniffed the vapour rising from the hot brew. "Ah! Lapsang Souchong!"
"You know it?"
"Of course," he scoffed.
She sat down opposite him. He seemed to settle the moment the tea entered his system. Chang couldn't deny that it had the same, instantly settling effect on her. "So what brings you to my door, Doctor?"
"I have been reviewing the data we obtained of the Array. By my calculations, we have only thirty-six hours until it is powered fully."
"And then what?"
"I theorise that it is meant to open a pathway through the fabric of space-time. By drawing on the energy of that sun, and harnessing it, it will use the sun's core to create a temporal rift. A conduit from our time . . ."
Chang felt the colour drain from her face. ". . . to the heyday of the Namar. She's bringing them here, isn't she?"
He slurped his tea. It went down with a nervous gulp.
Chang got up, used her comm. panel. "This is the Captain. Ensign Gordon, Commander Banks, Lieutenant Oriz, Chief Kolvin, return to the bridge immediately."
She headed for the door, turned to find Gentry still sitting there. Lisa Chang snapped her fingers at him. "Come on! We've got probes to launch."
* * *
The probes exited the side of the Intrepid and travelled at great speed through the darkness cast by the ends of the asteroid. After making it past the debris, they split and headed in opposite directions. One to the left, one to the right. The Intrepid carried many different probes, and these were the hardiest sort. Specially designed to withstand extreme pressures, intense heat, unbelievably low temperatures. There was a good chance that, once in position to view the Amarax, the probes would be seen. They were not small. However the same sensors and scans that would monitor the Amarax from afar would also detect the movement of hostile ships coming the Intrepid's way.
"Time until they're in position?" Chang asked. She paced, knowing she shouldn't, but not able to stick to one spot and wait it out.
It was enough to think they were up against the might hidden inside the Amarax, let alone a fleet from the past.
"Minutes. Then we'll know," Gentry told her. "I did not intend on startling you earlier, Captain."
"I know you didn't. But I could see you looked spooked, and it's no wonder why."
As the Doctor was preparing the probes for immediate release, Chang had quickly briefed those on the bridge about the situation.
"Still no word from command," Oriz said.
"Are they even hearing us?" Banks asked.
Dana shrugged and gave a worried look that said: I don't know.
"Keep trying," Chang told her. "We don't have any other choice."
"Starting to get rudimentary telemetry now," Gentry said.
"On screen."
The viewscreen shifted to a split-screen display of both probes' sensor data. It built rapidly, as each sweep of their sensors added another layer of detail. It was like watching two prints develop in trays of water. "Merging the data streams," Gentry said, the two sides of the screen moving toward each other until they were not just overlaid, but merged to become one big image.
Every rock, every giant lump of planetary mass, was clearly defined. Dr. Gentry zeroed in on the location of the Amarax, and the spider web-like construct next to it. The sheer scale of the mesh was impressive enough, when compared with the awesome size of the Amarax itself. But the readings coming off of it were even more impressive.
"Does any of that make sense to you?" Chang asked Dr. Gentry. "I've never encountered data like it."
"Oh, I have," Gentry said with visible distaste. He swirled his mouth around as if he were about to spit poison. "The Sun Hammer. The most destructive weapon ever created. A deplorable device. This is very similar in terms of the energy it consumes for its reaction."
"I remember the Sun Hammer," Chang said. "Hardly our finest hour. All those lives snuffed out at the press of a button."
Banks frowned. "Didn't Captain King tell us that the Sun Hammer tech was derived from Namarian relics in the first place?"
Chang nodded. "She did."
"It is as I feared," Gentry said. "They intend on opening a conduit through the heart of that sun, stretching back to the mists of time."
"How long? Like you predicted?"
"No. Less time. In twenty-eight hours the Array will be ready to use," he got up, walked to the front as he spoke. "As it stores more power, the lattice work becomes a conductor for the energy of the sun, which will flux between the two of them at an ever increasing rate. Until the connection is made, until the door to the past is opened."
"Then what?" Banks asked.
Gentry turned around. "The End."
Chang turned to Dana. "I want you to record what I say and send it on repeat. We'll risk detection to get this through. It might be our only chance at getting some form of backup."
7.
Funny how you grow accustomed to a prison cell.
Jessica Chang stood from her bunk at the sound of someone entering the detention area, their boots clipping along the corridor toward her cell.
I've had time to think, I've had a chance to reconsider my actions. There's not a single thing I'd do differently. This is the right course.
There was a small mirror on the wall and she glanced at it. Strange to see herself in an orange jumpsuit, and not her familiar uniform. Here, in detention, she was simply Jessica King, sans the Captain part. A part of it felt awful. It felt like the biggest kick in the guts you could give somebody.
But the other part? It felt liberating.
A man in sharp attire presented himself on the other side of the force field. "Jessica King?"
"Are you my counsel?"
"I am. Larry Tirn. I'd offer to shake your hand, but . . ."
Jessica sat back on her bunk. So it wasn't anything important. "You can go. I don't want to waste your time, Mister Tirn."
He frowned, head slightly cocked to one side. "Sorry?"
"I know I had to be assigned a counsel by law, but I'm within my rights to dismiss you at my own discretion. That's what I'm doing."
She lay down, hands on her midsection, gazing up at the featureless ceiling.
"I strongly advise against this course of action," Larry Tirn told her. "You will face your court martial on your own. No one there to help you."
"I can present my own evidence, in my defence. Correct?"
He shrugged. "I guess. But–"
"Thanks for the free advice. Now please leave me to my peace and quiet. I'm starting to like it."
Tirn walked off in a huff, muttering abuse under his breath. Just when she thought he was gone, he walked back. "You'll regret facing that court martial on your own, King. I guarantee it. No one has the balls to face one without some kind of representation."
She didn't say anything.
"Have it your way," Tirn spat. This time he left for real.
Jessica grinned. Knowing what was coming, she should have been panicking, sweating over what might come of her. But the truth was, she didn't care. She had evidence that there was wrongdoing on behalf of her superiors, and not just digital records, either. Real live people.
In the cell she'd had time to go over every detail. Now she was more sure than ever of what she was about to do.
* * *
The first faces she spotted were those of Admiral Cantrell and Admiral Jameson. Then her eyes settled on Admiral Kerrick. While both Cantrell and Jameson stood to greet her, Kerrick remained seated.
"Captain," Admiral Cantrell said. He indicated the chair in front of them. "Take a seat."
Jessica did as instructed, all the while her gaze remained fixed on Kerrick, and his on her.
Cantrell and Jameson sat back down behind the long desk. Jessica glanced over her shoulder at the guards by the entrance, the armed officer stood to the side of the Admirals. She looked up, at the security monitoring equipment.
I didn't come here to run. I came here to reveal the truth. She looked at Kerrick. He must be wondering why we handed ourselves in. He must be wondering what we have on him. If we'd been captured, we'd have never faced a court martial. Or any other kind of trial. It wouldn't have got that far.
No one can question you when you're vaporised.
Admiral Jameson looked down at his notes. "Captain Jessica King, are you fit to proceed with this hearing into your actions?"
"Mentally and physically, sir."
"You don't wish to have a consultation with a medical professional before we proceed?"
She shook her head. "No sir."
"Okay. I think you'll understand I have to ask that. Likewise, I want to note for the record your refusal of counsel. Does that decision still stand, Captain?"
"It does. I stand alone."
Jameson looked up. "Very well. Let us begin."
8.
The old saying goes: leave no stone unturned. Cantrell, Jameson, and Kerrick started at the beginning. Her assignment to investigate the Enigma. Her battle with Cessqa. Stealing the Defiant. Everything. They went back to the past, to the death of Andrew Singh. Back even further, to their involvement with the Sun Hammer. Their questions were wide-ranging, intrusive, and everything she'd expected them to be.
They followed the old saying to the letter.
Jessica sipped water from a glass, her mouth dry from answering so many questions. She figured she'd been in the room for close to three hours.
"I think that's all for now. Unless you have something to add, Captain?" Jameson asked.
She shook her head. "Not right now, Admiral."
"We'll take a short recess and reconvene in five minutes. After that, we'll allow you to make a fifteen minute statement."
"Admiral, I will be making use of article three-ninety-seven, statute ten. I have several pieces of evidence I need to present."
Jameson glanced across at Kerrick. "I don't have any objections."
Kerrick's mouth twisted into a tight knot as Admiral Cantrell said the same. Then the two of them were looking directly at him.
"Go ahead," he spat.
Jameson stood. "Five minutes."
Jessica remained seated as Cantrell and Jameson filed past. Kerrick fixed her with his cruel, sharp eyes. He waited until his colleagues had left. "Evidence, Captain?"
She didn't answer him.
"Keep it to yourself, then. But none of it will help you. You are a criminal, Jessica King. Nothing more."
She glared at him, but managed to keep her mouth clamped shut.
Kerrick smirked. "You're a traitor to the Union. Like Grimshaw before you."
"Shut your dirty mouth."
"There's only one of us here who is dirty, Captain. That's you. You stand between the Union and progress. You stand between the Union and security. Our future is in flux. The steps I have taken . . . they are for the greater good."
"No, Admiral. They're for your own glory. You are a murderer."
He sat back at the sound of Cantrell and Jameson returning. He had a sickening grin on his face. "We'll see."
* * *
Punk fixed the last emitter in place and caught up with them. "I don't get why we're putting them out here."
"Because if this goes the way I think it will, we'll need a little distraction."
"I still don't–"
"Hey. We're here," Barbie said, leading them around the corner. An armed guard stood in front of the door to the room.
"Now remember, this has to go down the way Jessica wants it," Will told them. "Me and the skipper first. We'll take Doctor Kingston. Then Punk, you wait to be called. You're bringing in Dajani."
"Right."
Will looked to Barbie. "You're going to lead Plenty in. Okay?"
"Understood, Commander," Barbie said.
Plenty looked at him, his usual blank expression unchanged.
"You're going to be okay doing this? Presenting yourself to them? I can't give any guarantees what will happen to you."
"I know the risks," Plenty said. "But to not do it is denying my own existence."
Shaw turned around. "Well, I'm shocked. He's a philosopher."
"Come on, Captain. We're up."
* * *
Admiral Jameson gave the guards the nod. "Allow them in."
Captain Rick Shaw walked through the door first, followed by Commander Will Ardai, and Jessica's mother, Dr. Kingston.
Jessica looked at Kerrick. His smug demeanour had slipped. His face had grown ashy pale.
"Hey, people," Shaw said, a wide grin on his face.
"You are?" Cantrell asked.
"Captain Rick Shaw. Shadow Force."
"Aahhh . . ." Cantrell shared a look with Jameson. "Guards, you can leave us. Turn off all of the recording devices."
"We're going to accept this!?" Kerrick said, outraged. "She can bring anyone she wants to the goddamn party and we're fine with that?"
"Admiral, I don't understand your upset . . ." Jameson said, frowning.
"I think he knows what's coming," said Shaw with a cocky grin.
Jessica cleared her throat. "Admiral, if I may. I have other witnesses waiting outside. They're crucial to what I am about to say."
"Go ahead. Bring them in."
She got up, walked to the door, and beckoned them all in to the room. Kerrick stood, his face now red, his blood rising. His expression showed a fiery rage growing hotter and hotter.
"I won't stand for this! I have never heard of a court martial like it!"
Jessica returned to her seat. In walked Punk and Professor Dajani. Kerrick's hysterical outcries ceased at the sight of Dajani. He looked incredulously from the professor to Jessica, and back again. Then Barbie entered, alongside the hybrid.
Kerrick pointed, his mouth working wordlessly, eyes wide.
Jameson stood. "Kerrick, good God man, get a hold of yourself!"
"Captain, do you care to explain what all of this is about? And how it pertains to your trial?" Cantrell demanded.
"Indeed. I–"
Kerrick darted around the desk, reached inside his uniform jacket and produced a capsule. He smashed it on the floor. The room instantly filled with a soupy white smoke that burned the eyes and the mouth. The door opened and closed again.
"He's made a run for it," Shaw said, followed by a series of dry coughs.
"Activating the emitters," Punk said.
Jessica felt a large, heavy hand on her shoulder. "Come on. Let's get outside," Ardai told her.
She stood, took his hand, eyes squinted, and let him lead her to the door. Within moments the air recyclers had cleared most of the smoke, but it still burned to breathe. The security personnel flooded into the room. Out in the corridor, Jessica could just make out Kerrick running. She made to pursue, but Will's hand, still holding hers, stopped her dead.
"Don't worry. We've got it covered."
"Huh?"
Barbie barged past, breaking into a sprint, her heavy frame booming down the corridor after him.
"See?"
* * *
Kerrick felt like a rubber band that had been stretched too far – he could feel himself about to snap apart. There was only one option – his ship. With the credits he'd stowed away over the years, he could head anywhere. If he was quick.
He turned a corner and stopped dead.
"What have you done to me?" Grimshaw asked. He looked the same as he had the last time Kerrick saw him, but his skin was waxy grey, his eyes heavy and dark. There was blood on his uniform. He pointed a finger at him. "Kerrick, what have you done?"
He turned on his heel. Grimshaw was there, too. Pointing at him. Accusing. Risen from the grave, his eyes full of despair, full of accusation.
"Get away from me!"
". . . what have you done?"
Kerrick turned left, found another Grimshaw standing right in front of him. An apparition, pale and ghastly in its awful reality. He covered his face with his hands. "This isn't real . . . this isn't real . . ."
Barbie levelled her weapon at him. "Hey, Admiral?"
Kerrick looked up. Barbie fired. The haze of blue light surrounded him, his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he collapsed on the floor.
Barbie grinned. "I love it when a plan comes together."
9.
After an hour explaining everything to Admiral Cantrell and Admiral Jameson, Jessica felt she'd made some headway – particularly when Jameson ordered her uniform returned to her.
"I am squashing all charges. In fact, I'm giving you a commendation," Cantrell said. "Bob, you agree with that?"
Jameson nodded. He still looked overcome by the whole tale. "Yeah."
"Now, you give us the unenviable task of arresting the Vice President. I'm afraid it won't be as easy as dealing with a lunatic Admiral," Cantrell said.
"Meanwhile, I would like to assist in the capture of Cessqa. I feel partly responsible for this mess, Admiral. I want to see it at an end."
"Agreed. But the Chimera Cluster is a long journey–"
Jameson cut in. "I believe we have something that might help with that. But we'll come to that in a minute. Jessica, I want you to rally together any ships you can that are docked at this station and leave within the hour. Do you know the Intrepid's exact location?"
"No, but I know a man who will."
Jameson clicked his fingers at the guards. "Go and get Kerrick. Drag his sorry behind in here."
"And us?" Dr. Kingston asked.
Cantrell smiled. "You will all be placed under maximum security. Members of our staff will take statements from you all. Just repeat what you have already told us here today, and it will be sufficient to ensure the Vice President and his Piazzi, Kerrick, are stopped for good. Ah, talking of which . . ."
Kerrick was now wide awake, each arm held by a guard as he was escorted back to the room. They deposited him there and he straightened his uniform. "I wish to speak with a lawyer."
"In good time," Cantrell assured him.
"Tell me the location of the Intrepid," Jessica demanded.
"No. Grant me immunity."
Jameson waved his hands. "We can talk immunity later on. Right now, we need those co-ordinates."
"Not until I have immunity," Kerrick said. "My mouth is shut."
Shaw rubbed his temple. "Punk, we don't have time for this. Get the kit."
"Kit? What kit?" Kerrick asked.
Punk unclipped a pouch on his belt, then unfolded it. Held snug in fabric hoops were several sharp implements. "I call them 'the truth cutters'. They don't take long, trust me."
Kerrick swallowed. "You wouldn't."
"Listen, everyone, I think this is getting a little out of hand . . ." Jameson said.
Jessica took a step toward Kerrick. "D'you want to try us?"
"Alright, I'll tell you," Kerrick said. He told Jessica where the co-ordinates were stored on his personal terminal, and the password to access them. "Happy now?"
"Almost."
He rolled his eyes. "Don't tell me–"
Jessica slugged him in the gut. All the air rushed out of him. He looked up at her, eyes shot through with red, veins standing out on his neck.
"That was for putting us through hell."
Kerrick straightened out. "Is that it?" he gasped.
Jessica shook her head. "No. This one's for Grimshaw."
She swung her right fist, hitting him full force on the side of the face with a sound like meat slapping against a cold slab. His head snapped around; he stumbled back on jellified legs, the guards catching his unconscious form as it fell.
Will slapped her on the back as she examined her bruised knuckles. "You've got quite a hit!"
Shaw dragged Punk out the door with him. "Come on, short stuff. Let's go raid his computer."
"Did that feel good?" Cantrell asked Jessica.
"I'm ashamed to say it did, sir."
"There will be more questions to ask, Jessica. But they will have to wait."
Jameson leaned in close. "Put together something resembling a fleet and head for the Stiulur system. Station thirty-five. There you'll find a new method of long distance travel we've been developing called a TransJump portal. The commander there will explain it all to you, but it should cut your travel time significantly. And it will negate the effects of the Cluster itself."
Shaw cleared his throat. "I've heard about it before."
"Why does that not surprise me?" Jessica asked, eyebrow cocked.
Admiral Cantrell tapped several commands into a data tablet and handed it to her. "I am hereby activating Order Ten. You have full authority to gather what forces you can find, and act in the best interests of the Terran Defence Force."
Jameson smiled. "Best of luck. To you all."
10.
"Captain?" Dana turned around, holding her earpiece. "I'm getting something. It's very distorted, but I believe it's from Captain King."
Chang bolted from her chair. "What?"
"That's impossible," Banks said.
Dana listened to the other end. "No, it's definitely her."
"Put it on speakers."
"He-o this is . . . Je-ca . . ."
Chang snapped her fingers impatiently. "Dana, is there anything we can do? Clear it up?"
"I can boost power to the communication relays," Dr. Gentry offered. "Though we risk blowing the conduits entirely."
"Do it."
A few seconds later, there was a noticeable improvement, but it was still too distorted to make sense of.
"Try using the probes for gain," Chang suggested, thinking on the problem. If Jessica was contacting them directly, it could mean only one thing – she was back in the fold. She could only know their location by having contact with command in some way. And that also meant Kerrick had to have been taken care of.
"I'm patching us through," Gentry said, working, his fingers on the controls. "Using their relative positions to filter through the disturbance."
"This is Jessica King," her voice rang out loud and clear from the overhead speakers. "This is Jessica King contacting the starship Intrepid. Respond."
"Put me on," Chang ordered.
"Yes Ma'am!" Dana said, delighted to be able to follow through on the order.
"Jessica, this is Chang. We've got a good, strong signal. I can tell you, it's good to hear your voice."
"And yours. But I'm afraid we don't have much time for reminiscing."
"No, we don't."
"What's the situation?"
"Cessqa has some device left here centuries ago. Gentry calls it an Array. It's drawing power from the sun and in less than twenty-eight hours, it will be ready."
"Ready? Ready for what?"
"To open a conduit to the past. Cessqa will then use it call forth the might of the Namar at the peak of their power."
"My God . . ."
"Jess, what reinforcements can you send here?"
"Whatever I can rally together. We have your co-ordinates. We're going to try a new method of advanced travel. We can be with you in twenty-four hours."
"What's that–"
"I'll explain it to you later, when all of this is over. I more than owe you a drink, Lisa."
"And I'll look forward to it," Chang said. "What are your orders?"
"Sit tight . . . and prepare for battle."
"Understood. Chang out."
The channel closed.
Chang couldn't help but smile. Despite what was coming, despite what they were up against – despite the slim chances of them actually making it through the rest of the day in one piece – it all felt right. They were needed; they were where they were meant to be. The same place all leaders find themselves in such times. The front line, the last line, the threshold of certain doom. She would fight to her last, because her crew expected no less. Because she believed in what the Union stood for, even though it wasn't perfect.
"Everyone, we don't have much time. Banks, I want you to formulate a plan with the flight commanders. Let's see how much damage our fighters can inflict. In the meantime, I will sit down with the heads of every department. I want everyone knowing what their job is, and how to do it. This will not be the chaos of a surprise offensive, but a tactical operation."
"Yes Captain," Banks said.
"We can do this, I have every faith in you all." Chang looked around at them. "Now let's go to work."
* * *
The Spectre left the station behind.
"You must be relieved," Gunn said.
Jessica nodded. "Of course. But it's not over yet. Far from it."
"Are you thinking about your Mother?"
"A little, yes."
Meryl reached out, rubbed her back in a rare display of affection. "She'll be fine. When they say they'll put them in protective custody, I believe it."
"When all this is over, I want to build some kind of relationship with her," Jessica said.
Kalar's tentacles worked the many controls. "I'm inputting the co-ordinates now."
Captain Shaw glanced across at Will. "Have they all made contact?"
"Yes Captain. The Queen Victoria and the Cotopaxi are holding position port side aft. Reliant and Brave to starboard. Matching velocity and heading."
"Good. Jess, do you have any objections about going to Jump?" Shaw asked.
She shrugged, managed a smile. "It's your ship."
"That's goddamn right. Kay, get us out of here. Maximum Jump to the Stiulur system."
"Maximum Jump. Aye," Kalar replied.
Jessica braced herself against the console at her back, and closed her eyes as it washed over her – the sensation of your entire being shifting. Becoming one with space.
* * *
Chang dismissed her team from the briefing room and watched them file out. They had their orders; they knew how she wanted them to perform in the coming offensive. The Master at Arms would equip every crew member with a sidearm.
She remembered what had happened when the Defiant was boarded by the Namar and did not wish to repeat the tragedy of that day . . .
Banks walked in, through the crowd. "Commander?"
"Captain. We have a plan in place. It's pretty solid. The teams are getting prepped as we speak."
"Good work, Kyle. We're set here, too. Everyone has their job. They know what to do."
That fact doesn't make any of this less frightening, though . . .
The last of the department heads left the briefing room, leaving them to speak freely.
Banks licked his lips. "I've ensured that covering the sticky bomb when it's delivered is a priority."
"Good. I want you to have the best possible chance of getting it in there. Are you still sure you want to go ahead with it?"
"Of course."
"I'm serious. I can find another pilot for the job."
I want to say 'more expendable' but that wouldn't be proper. There's probably a dozen or so pilots below decks who'd jump at the chance at such a glory – but do they have as much chance of succeeding? I don't think so . . .
"I'm serious about doing it," Banks said. "I'm the best pilot on the ship. And this is the most dangerous mission."
"Okay," Chang said. "You're right, of course."
A silence fell around them. He'd agreed to put his life on the line for her, to fulfil her plan. She only hoped that it worked. That he managed to pull it off and got out of there in one piece. The silence stretched on, broken only by the rumble of power coursing through the Intrepid – even with the reactor dialled back she had a tremendous heart on her.
"Come on, Kyle. Let's start putting them through their paces. I want drills on every section, over and over until they get it all right. In a matter of hours, we go into battle. And it'll be for real."
* * *
The TransJump portal was an immense structure, several thousand metres wide, a framework that must have taken years to complete. Jessica was impressed that they'd managed to do so without it becoming common knowledge.
"So how's this meant to work?" Shaw asked, eyeing the portal sceptically. "They have our destination, right?"
"Correct," Jessica said. "The Station Commander said we'd detect a reading of nine point five on our sensors when it was ready to travel through."
Kalar turned around. "I must confess to feeling some trepidation about taking the Spectre through that."
"I understand your concern, Kay. To tell the truth, I'm not looking forward to going through that thing myself."
"I'm sure it will be all right," Jessica said, trying not to give voice to her own doubts. "Have the other ships checked in?"
"All set," Will said. "Station control have just contacted us to say they're about to begin."
"Great . . ." Shaw mumbled.
On the viewscreen, the gigantic hoop showed movement. Jessica realised then that the portal was a closed track, a framework upon which a Jump Drive generator ran, round and round. It built velocity gradually, and with each lap of the hoop became faster and faster until there was a distinct blue haze within the circle.
"See that?" Ardai asked.
Jessica watched. The haze intensified, crackled with energy. "What's the reading?"
"Eight point nine," Punk said.
"Will, tell the others to get ready. We'll slave their navigational systems to ours, as discussed," Jessica told him.
"Kay, get ready to tie them all in," Shaw said.
Punk looked up. "Nine point three. Almost there."
The inner of the circle was now a shimmering screen of light, energy arcing from within it.
"They're tied in," Kalar said. "I have control of the fleet . . . how thrilling!"
"Spool the Jump Drives," Shaw said. "We Jump on my mark. This is going to be really interesting."
The Spectre's own Drive growled to life as around it, the other ships' Jump Drives did the same.
"Nine point five," Punk said. "We're ready."
Shaw looked at Jessica. "Last chance to turn back? Find another way?"
"No, Captain. I appreciate the offer, but no. This is the only way."
He grinned. "Glad you said that. Kay, Jump."
Jessica reached out, and Will took her hand. She looked away from the screen as the Spectre, The Queen Victoria, the Cotopaxi, the Reliant and the Brave all leapt through the TransJump portal.
11.
"Ma'am, I'm detecting an abnormally strong Jump signature from the other side of the sun," Gentry said, frowning at his readings. "It's a conduit of some kind. It can only be the new technology Jessica hinted at."
"Okay. Ensign Gordon, lift off please. Get us up off of this rock."
The Ensign was more than happy to get the Intrepid flying again. "Yes Captain!"
"Red alert," Chang ordered. "All hands prepare for battle. Doctor, do we have visual of the arriving fleet?"
The viewscreen changed to show the glowing circle that had appeared from nowhere. At first there was nothing to see, and then Chang spotted the unmistakeable bow of a ship emerging from within it. "There. I see it."
"The fleet has arrived," Banks said.
The Intrepid gave a slight jolt as she lifted from the surface of the asteroid under her own power. The screen shifted back to the forward view from the Intrepid's front edge. Ensign Gordon wasted no time in opening up the engines, pushing her to full power, and leaving the rock in its wake.
"Eager to engage them, Alanna?" Banks asked.
"You could say so, Commander," she said.
Chang turned to Kolvin. "Chief why don't you go to Engineering. You might be needed."
"Yes Captain," he said and left the bridge.
In front of them, the sun's burning edge licked the fiery hot flames of creation into the void. And beyond them, the fleet awaited them.
* * *
"This is Captain Lisa Chang of the starship Intrepid," came the voice over the comm.
Jessica felt disoriented from the journey through the portal – it was unlike anything she'd ever experienced. Certainly nothing like a regular Jump. But Chang's voice pulled her back to reality with a jolt.
"We read you, Lisa."
"We'll rendezvous with you in two minutes. You should see us on your sensors."
"Lisa we will be easy to find. Just look for the fireworks," Jessica said, closing the channel.
Shaw ran a hand over his face. "Kay, release our control of the other ships."
"Affirmative. They're free."
"Good. Now how's about we get this party started?"
Will shook his head. "It's started without us."
On the screen, the Amarax rested, backlit by the glare of the sun, accompanied by the strange construct that was the Array. The Amarax looked exactly as it had when Jessica last saw it – separated into its three cylindrical sections. Spilling from within, swarms of ships.
"Put me on with the fleet," Jessica said.
Will gave her the nod. "You're on."
"Fleet, this is Captain King. You've no doubt noticed the hostile forces headed our way. Something tells me they've been expecting us. Well, let's not give them anything but a tough fight. Hit as hard as you can, with everything you've got. And we'll toast our victory back at the Station. King out."
Shaw slapped his thigh. "Well, it damn stirred me up. Come on Kay, take us in!"
* * *
Chang looked about at the bridge crew, listening eagerly to Jessica's words.
". . . let's not give them anything but a tough fight. Hit as hard as you can, with everything you've got. And we'll toast our victory back at the Station. King out."
Banks shifted in his seat. "Alright! You heard the lady."
The Amarax hove into view, the sun blazing on their right. To their left, the fleet that Jessica had assembled. A ragtag grouping of ships from different classes stood together to fight the same fight. To stop a thousand year old Namarian master plan for reincarnation.
Dr. Gentry looked up. "Spectre is leading the charge at the front."
The Namarian ships spilled from the Amarax.
"Ensign, maximum thrusters. Let's join the battle."
* * *
Cessqa boarded her ship.
Beltine chased after her. "But the Array . . ."
"Ensure it is activated! Bring our people home!"
He backed away from the ramp as it slid inside the oddly spherical vessel, closing her in with her crew.
Now it fell to him to see their plan through. Only Cessqa would be able to hold the humans off. Only Cessqa would hold them back until their forces could join them. Beltine fled back to the command centre, knowing their fates rested in his leader's hands.
He looked back to see her ship rise from its moorings, like a strange alien flower, spikes jutting from around its hull. Flanked by countless smaller fighters, it headed out into the glare of the sun.
Beltine continued on his way. They were mere minutes from activating the Array and he wanted to watch it with his own eyes.
12.
The sphere was jet black, with a channel around its circumference from which a multitude of spikes jutted out at regular intervals. The spikes crackled with energy, the green lightning rods leaping at the Union ships, crashing against their energy shields.
The Intrepid drew close and Cessqa turned her attention to it directly, unleashing a wild fury of green energy against the Intrepid's shields.
Chang flinched as the forked beams struck the bow, causing an explosion of light so intense she had to look away from the viewscreen. She threw an arm over her face.
"Report!"
"Shields have dropped to ninety percent," Gentry answered. "Intense isolated bursts of energy. Class six. Very deadly."
"Return fire," Chang ordered. She gripped the sides of her chair as Banks unloaded the Intrepid's lasers back at the sphere. He followed it up with three torpedoes.
"No damage," Gentry said. "None at all."
We've got to figure this out . . . Chang's mind raced to come up with something.
Ahead of them, the sphere fired again. The green energy bolts slammed into the Intrepid, the whole ship shaking from the force of the hit.
"Bring us about!" Chang yelled. "Aft torpedoes! Fire!"
Ensign Gordon turned the Intrepid, the bridge skewing to the right as she took the ship in a tight starboard turn. The viewscreen changed to the rear camera, and Banks launched all tubes. The torpedoes whirled away from the Intrepid, directly into the path of Cessqa's sphere. They impacted in a series of explosions on the Namar ship's hull.
"Anything?" Chang asked.
This she hadn't expected. A ship that couldn't be hurt? How was it possible . . . ?
He shook his head. "Negligible. One percent damage to their structural integrity. That's it."
"Trying something different," Banks said, biting his bottom lip. "Focusing our guns on one spot. A concentrated, focused laser beam."
"Do it."
"Firing."
The lasers converged on one point, at the front edge of the sphere. They burned in an endless stream of deadly power until the energy banks could take no more and Banks was forced to cease fire.
"Damage report," Chang demanded. "Ensign Gordon, evasive manoeuvres. Don't let them hit us if you can help it."
"There is a significant level of damage at the focus point of the laser fire. Hull integrity in that section is down to less than ten percent. Exposure to space highly likely. But–"
Gentry was silenced by Cessqa firing at them again, green tendrils of destruction that struck at multiple locations along the Intrepid's energy shield, weakening it further.
How much more of this can we take? Chang wondered.
"Go on."
The Doctor ran a hand through his unkempt hair. "If we can find a vulnerable area, we could focus all of our fire on that one spot as long as we can. With luck, we'll cause enough damage."
Chang looked at the sphere on the viewscreen. "There's nothing there. Just those spikes."
Those spikes . . .
Her eyes widened. Of course! Those spikes!
She got up, ran to the tactical station. "Commander, focus all your fire on one of those spikes. Put it out of action."
"I can try . . ."
The Intrepid fired, filaments of light connecting the Union ship to the Sphere. They converged on the single spike and proceeded to melt it away.
"Cease fire!" Chang ordered. "Doctor Gentry, scan it. Is it still functional?"
He shook his head. "No."
"Good," Chang said with a smile. "Get to work, Commander. Target each spike in turn. Chief, if you can give us whatever power you can for shields and lasers, I think we can survive this."
"On it," Kolvin said, his fingertips working the controls of the engineering station.
"Take her weapons from her and all she has is a ship."
Banks nodded. "If we can take out one side, it gives us a chance. A shot at hitting back."
"Exactly," Chang said, returning to the Captain's chair. "Commander, fire at will."
* * *
The Spectre barrel rolled, firing a whirling dervish of torpedoes into the oncoming Namar ships. They erupted in brief, brilliant bursts of fire and light before it rushed through them, knocking past their ghosts.
The Reliant lurched to port, cutting across the Spectre's path. Kalar dove beneath the larger vessel, brought them back up the other side to find the Brave locked in battle with several Namar attackers – their vicious energy weapons cutting through its hull like knives through butter.
"Fire on those ships," Shaw ordered.
"Clearing the way," Ardai said, unleashing their weapons on them.
Where their fire touched, the Namar blew apart. But it wasn't enough. Kalar brought the Spectre around for another pass, in time to see a group of a half dozen ships plough into the Brave, crashing through her hull. The viewscreen was filled with white light as the Brave's reactor detonated.
"Aaargh!" Kalar angled them away from the blast, before the ship could blow entirely. The shell of the shockwave knocked them off course, several electrics blowing around them, the bridge temporarily thrown into darkness before the emergency power got a chance to kick in.
"Aft view."
The viewscreen flickered, showing the lower portion of the Reliant blown away from its proximity to the Brave. The Namar saw the weakness and targeted those exposed sections of the Reliant's hull, firing tirelessly until she too succumbed to their attacks.
"Dear God," Jessica said.
"Bring us about, Kay," Shaw growled through gritted teeth. "Will, blast 'em apart!"
* * *
Chief Kolvin returned to the bridge. "Chip has everything in order below decks. I thought you might need my assistance here."
"We're in good shape?" Chang asked.
"Shields are weakening, but other than that we're undamaged thus far," Kolvin told her.
On the viewscreen, the Reliant and the Brave tumbled, lifeless in space, their exposed parts glowing white hot as their hulls burned. The Reliant's starboard engine had been ripped clean off, and from the exposed pylons and connectors spilled shimmering reactor material.
All those lives . . . Chang thought. I hope there are some survivors.
The Spectre and the Cotopaxi swooped past, unloading their weapons at Cessqa's ship.
Chang turned to Kyle. "Okay. Banks, get to your fighter. Dana, put me on audio."
"Yes Captain."
"This is Captain Chang. I want all fighter pilots ready to launch on Commander Banks's order. Ensign Van Zandt, report to the bridge."
Banks headed for the door. "You're gonna trust a kid to shoot back at the Namar? You realise he's never been in combat."
"I've been looking at his file. Highest percentile in his class. I've been meaning to give him a shot. Looks like now's his chance. He'll do fine."
He shrugged. "You're the Captain."
The Intrepidrecoiled from a direct hit, the bridge shuddering around them. "Take care of yourself out there, Kyle."
He nodded and left.
"Ensign Gordon, take us in close to the Amarax. Close as we can with those ships there."
"Aye."
The ship turned away from the Spectre's battle with the sphere, and the Intrepid headed toward the giant cylinder they had once called Enigma.
The mystery of its origins and purpose were soon pretty evident . . . Chang thought grimly. Next to the Amarax, the Array – a way of calling Cessqa's people home. Back from the dead. The lattices were no longer black, but glowed white hot.
"How much longer before it is ready to be used, Doctor?"
"Two minutes, by my calculations."
Damn.
"We're really cutting this close," Chief Kolvin said. He turned around as Ensign Van Zandt walked onto the bridge, looking more than a little sheepish to be there.
"You wanted me, Captain?" he asked.
"Man the tactical station, Ensign," Chang said. "I sure hope you know how to shoot."
He looked dumbfounded to be asked such a thing, but it only took a second for it to sink in. He nodded, said "Aye!" with more enthusiasm than Chang had expected, and bounded over to Commander Banks's station.
Kolvin looked at Chang. He made to say something, but she shook her head with a finger pressed to her lips. He hesitated, then said, "I've rerouted emergency power to the energy shields."
"Thank you, Chief," she said with a smirk. "Van Zandt, are you familiar with those controls?"
"Yes Captain."
"Good, because you have your first target."
On the viewscreen an angular vessel headed straight for them.
"Their weapons are coming to bear!" Gentry said.
"Target that ship, Ensign. Fire at will," Chang ordered.
"Aye."
The Intrepid's lasers tore through the Namarian ship, weakening its hull. Van Zandt let loose two torpedoes – they hurtled into its path, and tore it apart in an almighty detonation.
"Well done. Now keep your eyes peeled."
"Yes Ma'am."
* * *
Her ship trembled around her, but Cessqa felt no concern. She watched on her monitor as the Array came suddenly to life. Every part of its latticed innards shone with pure energy. She narrowed her eyes as a bridge of light connected the Array to the sun, for the moment making the Array a binary star to the one the system already had.
Several hits directly to her ship's hull made her look away from the web's brilliance. Her people aboard the Amarax would now be working to reach the other side of the corridor, call back to the past, and pull the might of the Namar into the present.
"Give me communications with that lead vessel," Cessqa demanded. She watched as the officer in front of her hurriedly made the connection.
"I have it."
"Human vessel. This is Cessqa."
"This is Captain Lisa Chang of the Intrepid."
"You fought valiantly last time, Captain Chang of the starship Intrepid, but I fear this time you are far outmatched."
"Is that so?"
"I believe it is."
"I think you underestimate our determination."
Cessqa smiled. "Ah, but there is a difference between desiring a thing, and attaining it. Victory will continue to elude you. My forces are far beyond your own."
"We'll see," the human cut the connection.
The human forces would focus their attention on her ship – that was good. By the time they realised what was happening, the Namar would be spilling from the Array. And they would not stop until the star ways were drenched with the blood of humanity . . .
* * *
Dr. Gentry looked up. "It's happened."
The viewscreen changed to show the Amarax. Next to it, the Array glowed white hot, pulling energy from the sun, using it to form a connecting bridge.
"We're literally out of time. Dana, patch me through to the Spectre."
Oriz worked the controls. "You're on, Captain."
"Lisa?"
"Do you see it?"
A pause, then: "They've activated it. Have you launched your bomb yet?"
"Banks is on his way," Chang told her. "But he could do with some cover while I deal with Cessqa's ship."
"Consider it done. King out."
* * *
The craft handled differently with its modification at the front – the housing to carry the probe weighed it down more than usual. With the probe attached it looked like two metal arms carrying a very ugly baby. Banks had never seen anything quite like it. He turned the ship in a slow circle above the deck, then raced out of the hangar, the fighter's engines blazing.
Chief Kolvin's gruff voice came through from the Intrepid. "Remember, we'll pilot the probe itself from here. You've just got to get it close. Real close."
"So they don't get a chance to shoot it down."
"Correct."
"Chief are you getting my feed where you are?"
"Yeah. Reading you loud and clear."
He swerved around a burning hunk of metal, then dodged an energy beam from a Namar ship. It blistered past, a stream of red fire. "Damn chaos out here."
The Intrepid moved in from the right – she was an impressive sight from the outside. Not as uniform in design as the Defiant, maybe, but she had muscle. Banks could see it.
"We'll cover you best we can," Chang said in his earpiece. "But you'd better hurry. That thing's active."
The Intrepid unleashed quick bursts of laser fire around him, blowing several small Namar fighters apart on impact. Shrapnel from their busted hulls clattered against his ship.
"Thanks Captain," Banks said. He signalled the other fighters to cover his path, and headed straight for the Amarax, full throttle.
* * *
Ensign Van Zandt let fly a cluster of torpedoes. They hurtled away, ploughing into Cessqa's ship in a huge explosion. But the spherical vessel still stood strong. It returned fire, the vicious energy of its weapon crackling against the Intrepid's shields, weakening them like never before.
Gentry sounded alarmed. "That hit cost us ten percent of our energy shields."
"Chief?"
Kolvin worked at his terminal. "I'm instructing Chip to relay extra power to the emitters."
"Fire again, Ensign."
The Intrepid turned to port, fired all forward tubes at Cessqa's ship. This time they did visible damage, but it wasn't enough. The Cotopaxi fired all of its guns at the ship, punctuated with whatever warheads it could muster. Sure enough, the Namar vessel was steadily getting pummelled on both sides.
"We have breached their hull," Gentry reported. "They're venting atmosphere."
* * *
Cessqa slammed her fist against the control, sealing the command deck off from the rest of the compromised vessel. Alarms sounded all around her, but she did not hear them over the sound of her blood boiling.
"Cessqa! The human ship has made contact!"
She stepped forward to listen, eyes narrow slits, teeth ground together in rage. "Put it on."
"Cessqa, this is Captain Chang. I'm offering you a chance to surrender yourself to us."
The Namarian warrior almost laughed.
Almost.
"I would sooner kill myself, than be a prisoner to you." She turned back to the officer. "Stop transmission!"
Cessqa plucked her weapons officer from his seat, lifting him by the neck. He squealed as she threw him across the room. She assumed his position and accessed the firing controls herself.
* * *
The sphere unleashed one hit after another upon both the Cotopaxi and the Intrepid. Firing from the few spikes that were left along its axis. The Intrepid shook from side to side, backups blowing all over the ship, buffers reaching their full capacity.
"She's channelling everything she has. No doubt depleting her reserves significantly," Gentry said.
Kolvin's voice was strained. "Shields down to forty percent."
"Ensign Gordon, evasive. Get us some distance. Ensign Van Zandt, I want that ship destroyed."
"Aye!" the Ensign cried.
The Intrepid turned away from Cessqa's ship, at the same time unloading all that it had on her. The Cotopaxi followed suit, punching with what it had, the two ships firing in unison to deliver the final blows. It worked. At first, Cessqa simply stopped firing. Then the spherical vessel cracked open like a chestnut, spilling radiation and light into space. One more hit from the Intrepid and it detonated entirely, the shockwave knocking both the Intrepid and the Cotopaxi off course.
Chang gripped the sides of her chair and squeezed her eyes shut as the bridge fell to darkness, and the Intrepid was rendered powerless around her. The Intrepid turned end over end, cartwheeling through the dark.
"Report!" Chang yelled as she opened her eyes to find the emergency lights just kicking in. No power to the viewscreen, however.
"We're free of the combat zone," Gentry said. "For now. The fighters are holding their own against the Namar. But it won't be long till we're a target."
"And the Cotopaxi?"
"Same. Powerless."
Chang looked at the doctor. "And Cessqa's ship?"
"Completely destroyed."
Kolvin did not turn around as he worked from his console to restore their power. "She sacrificed herself. She could've fled the area at any point, but she didn't."
"Gave her life to ensure the Array was activated properly," Chang said.
"Ah! We have power back, Captain," Kolvin said. On cue, the lights returned, the viewscreen flickered back to life, the familiar throb of the ships engines returned.
Chang stood, watched the viewscreen. Where Cessqa's ship had been before, a cloud of debris had taken its place.
"She really is gone," Dana said.
Chang looked at her. "Yes."
* * *
Commander Banks rolled, veered to the right, avoiding enemy fire coming from behind. The Spectre covered him best they could, but the space around the Amarax was a free-for-all. Union ships dog fighting Namarian fighters, the dead hulks of both Reliant and Brave drifting through it all. He watched the Array, burning hot. The inside of it shimmered with white light.
"Intrepid, do you see that?"
"What?" Chang asked.
"The Array. There's something happening to it."
The Amarax loomed large in front of him, three sections extended out on its central spine. He knew where he was going, what he was aiming for.
"We're monitoring it."
"I'm about to go in. Get ready to take control of the probe once I release it."
"Understood. Good luck," Chang replied.
Banks took her in. A small fighter sped up behind him, firing at his tail, and the Spectre blew it away. He glanced back. The Spectre swung to the left, headed in the direction of the Array. Banks looked ahead, jaw set, blood thumping in his ears. The inside of the Amarax swallowed him whole, falling under its mighty shadow. He dropped velocity and approached the long rods at the rear of the behemoth. Looking down, he saw a number of Namar rush out carrying weapons. They aimed them up at him and fired.
"Releasing probe," Banks said.
The device – the sticky bomb Chang instructed Chief Kolvin to make – dropped from the front of the craft, its aft thrusters firing. He watched as it approached the rods at the back of the cylinder.
"We have control of the bomb. Commander, get out of there."
He turned his ship around, fired up the engines, and made to flee from the Amarax. He happened to look down at the Namar on the ground, watching the bomb approach the rear wall. They'd stopped firing. Their eyes followed it, and he saw understanding there.
And fear.
His hand went to his control stick, to turn back perhaps. Or slow down. Do something to alert them to the fact they were about to die. But he didn't. The sides of the cylinder rushed past, he was back among the stars and leaving it steadily behind him when it blew, and everything around him turned to nothing with the flick of a switch.
* * *
Jessica flinched as the Amarax exploded. The aft cylinder burst, the detonation sending shockwave after shockwave. The waves slammed into the Spectre with an almighty crash of metal on metal. One station on the bridge blew entirely, showering them in sparks, filling the confined space with the acrid smoke of burning plastic and optics. The other two cylinders followed in sequence, but not with so much force as the first. The Array, however, remained intact.
Shaw coughed, trying to get a breath in there. "Get your rebreathers!"
Jessica handed them out, and they all fixed the masks to their faces. "The Array still stands," Ardai said.
"There's something coming through it," Punk said. He pointed at the screen.
He's right, Jessica thought. Inside the Array, a dark shape emerged from the smoky light, a starship for sure, but unlike any configuration she'd come across before.
"Do we have the firepower to take the Array out?"
Shaw rubbed at his chin. "Maybe–"
"Do we?" Jessica demanded.
Shaw grimaced. "Kay, get us close to that Array. Punk, prepare to fire everything we have at it."
The big, dark shape pushed on through the Array, almost breaching their side. Kalar flew the Spectre around the gigantic debris from the destroyed Amarax, and drew them as close to it as he could. "Holding position."
"Good. Punk, we set?"
The Alpor nodded, hands already on the controls. "On your word, skipper."
"Punk, you have my word."
The Spectre rained death and destruction upon the Array, smashing through the many intricate parts of its framework. For a moment the operation of it held, as if nothing could harm it. Then it flickered, struggling to maintain the conduit it had been used to create.
A tiny ship emerged from the centre of the shimmering light, and was lost to the chaos of the battlefield. Then it collapsed entirely, closing the connection Cessqa had established with the past.
Consigning the Namar to oblivion, where they belong, Jessica thought.
The Spectre came about, launched half a dozen missiles from its rear and destroyed what remained of the Array.
"I wonder what that little ship was?" Ardai said.
Shaw shrugged. "Who knows?" He reached out and shook Jessica's hand. "Shall we call it a day, Captain King?"
As the ship turned, her eyes fell upon the Brave and the Reliant. Their dead hulks no doubt filled with bodies. She almost couldn't look – but felt she had to. For them. The last of the Namar fighters fled the area. A large group of them formed together and the Cotopaxi set off in pursuit.
"Yes. I think there's been too much bloodshed today."
Ardai looked up. "What're your orders?"
"Tell them . . . tell them it's time to go home."
13.
Six weeks later, Jessica watched the last of them file into her new office aboard Station 6. She handed out glasses of bubbling champagne to each and every one – and left a full glass on the side for those who were unable to attend. The fallen, the lost. The remembered.
A glass left sitting for Lieutenant Swogger, Ensign Boi, Eisenhower, Del Greene . . . especially of course for Andrew Singh.
She looked around, fully aware that it may be the last time she saw any of her family. For they were all family to her, each and every one of them. They'd followed her, and believed in her, and risked their lives for her, in one way or another, over the years.
Lisa Chang, Kyle Banks, Meryl Gunn, Dr. Clayton, Olivia Rayne, Hawk (incognito, of course), Selena Walker, Lieutenant Haller, Kaminsky, Hunter, White, Ken Dunham, Yamato, Dana Oriz, Gary Belcher, LaPlante . . . the list went on, and her office had steadily filled to capacity.
The crew from the Spectre mingled among her old crew, Barbie towering over all of them.
Will came to stand next to her. "Here, you don't have a glass yourself."
"Thanks," Jessica took the glass of champagne from him. "And thanks for coming."
"Well we're together, aren't we?"
She looked into his eyes, leaned in and kissed him on the lips.
"Can't you two love birds get a room?" Shaw grinned from ear to ear.
"Jealous, sir?" Will asked.
Shaw looked Jessica up and down. "Well she is an Admiral now. And you know I like a woman in authority . . ."
"Oh my God," Jessica said. "Maybe I should've turned it down."
"In all seriousness, you did good, kid. You should be proud of yourself," Shaw clinked his glass against hers.
"Isn't it time?" Will asked her.
Jessica nodded. She cleared her throat. "Excuse me, everyone? Hey–"
"QUIET!" Barbie growled; everyone in the office fell instantly silent.
"Uh, thanks Barbie," Jessica said. "Listen, everyone. I just want to say a few words. I want to thank you all for coming. It really means a lot. I know some of you couldn't come. And, well, some of you aren't here anymore . . ."
Her eyes drifted to the table with the glasses still on. Each a reminder of who'd fallen to the wayside as they travelled the cosmos together.
"Go on, Jess," Gunn urged her, smiling. Jessica saw there were tears in the Chief's eyes.
"It feels like we're all going our separate ways. Our family is moving on, which is right and natural. But that doesn't mean to say I won't miss you all. I will cherish knowing each and every one of you. And I wanted you all to know that. Everything we've been through together, as a family. It means a lot."
Chang stepped forward. "I propose a toast. To friends and family. Past and present."
Jessica raised her glass to that. Everyone followed suit. She looked at Will. He smiled at her. She smiled back.
She thought: Know what? I think we'll be all right.
* * *
The orbital fortress protecting the Sjan homeworld of Sj'iia admitted a single vessel. Large enough for only one occupant, the small ship settled upon the vast hangar deck of the mighty construction, jets of steam hissing from beneath it. Two legions of armoured soldiers marched out to meet the ship, forming two long lines – every soldier stood to attention, rifles over their shoulders.
Grah, the Captain of the behemoth in orbit of Sj'iia walked briskly between the two rows of soldiers. When he reached the end, he stood before the ship itself, chest puffed out, hands clasped tight behind his back, face upturned to show his prominent chin.
The chin of a leader, he'd often thought.
When the cockpit hatch released a scream pressurised gases, Grah nearly leapt into the air, but held his composure. A tall figure emerged from the small ship, his giant physique completely clad in red armour. His face was concealed by a metal face plate.
There were no introductions necessary. Silas Doum had been lost for centuries. Yet . . .
Here he was.
Grah dropped to one knee. "Your excellency. We have awaited your return."
"Rise," Doum commanded as he strode past.
Grah scrambled to his feet and hurried after him. "My Lord . . ."
"I will visit the capital immediately. I have urgent need to speak with the ruling council," Doum thundered.
"Of course. They have been alerted of your return. In your absence, my Lord, your name has become legend. Your disappearance has remained the greatest mystery of our people."
"A legend?" Silas Doum said. "A saviour. I have returned from the mists of time to guide our people forward. I have waited a thousand years for my resurrection."
A set of gigantic blast doors slid open to allow them access to the rest of the superstructure.
"If I may be so bold, my Lord . . . what is your plan?"
He stopped, turned around. Doum reached up, held a tight gauntlet-clad fist above him and gazed up at it, as if in his hand he held the mightiest power in the galaxy. "To seek that which will make us invincible."
Grah swallowed nervously. "To defeat the Union?"
Silas Doum looked down at him, lowering his arm. "More than that, Captain. So much more. To seek that which will allow us to rule the stars. As we were meant to . . ."
Afterword to Series Three
I never really intended to go past the first series, but when I reached the end I knew I had still had more stories to tell about Jessica King and her crew. Thus the second series materialised. And, of course, the questions and problems raised in series two meant I needed series three to deal with them.
Sometimes these things take on a life of their own. And now that I have wrapped up the third series, I find myself with yet more stories to tell. So stay tuned, folks. Series four is coming your way, starting with a 6-part adventure called 'Black Nova'.
Thanks for reading so far. I've had a lot of fun, and I hope you have, too.
Tony Healey, April 2015
A Question of Chronology
Something I get asked quite often is where all the different works fit in. Well, to answer that question, here's a handy list:
Operation Chimera series (written with Matt Cox)
*
Several decades later
*
Far From Home
*
Several decades later
*
Star Marshal Chase Striker
&
The Broken Stars
Operation Chimera concerns itself with the Draxx War. That war comes to an end in Far From Home, several decades later. Following on from Far From Home, the Terran Union gets into a war with the Sjan. Both Star Marshal Chase Striker and The Broken Stars Young Adult series are set during the Sjan conflict, some years after Far From Home.
Look for more books in the Operation Chimera, Star Marshal Chase Striker, The Broken Stars and, of course, Far From Home, in the near future.
The Adventure Continues with
Black Nova
The 6-part continuation of the Far From Home series!
Sample of
Black Nova: Part One
"Come in."
Captain Lisa Chang walked into the Admiral's office to find her seated behind her desk, head down, absorbed in what she was reading on a data tablet. "Admiral?"
Jessica King looked up, and her brow unfurrowed, her mouth lifted with an all-too familiar smile, and she was up from behind her desk in seconds – whatever she'd been studying with such intensity instantly forgotten.
She embraced Chang warmly. "Lisa! How have you been?"
"I've been well, Admiral."
She waved her off. "Oh, you can forget the Admiral around me. Call it a Captain's privilege."
Chang grinned. "If you say so."
"Glass of water? Tea?"
"I'm fine, actually."
"Right," Jessica said. "Well, don't mind me if I have some water. Take a seat."
Chang looked about. The Admiral's office aboard Station 6 was little changed from how it had been with Admiral Kerrick, if you didn't count the inclusion of greenery in the form of potted plants here and there. It looked comfortable.
She felt Jessica's hand on her back, guiding her to the chairs on the other side of the desk. "I said sit. It's an order, Miss."
"Yes, Ma'am," Lisa said, playing along. She sat. "You're well yourself?"
Jessica shrugged as she sat back down. "You know. The medication is working, I don't suffer from the effects of my condition. What else can I ask for? I'm very lucky."
Chang nodded. "And Will?"
The shadow returned to grace her features, if only momentarily. "On assignment. Not even I am allowed to know exactly what it is he's doing."
"Must be frustrating," Lisa said.
"Very. So anyway, you know, I completely lost track of time. I knew I had our meeting, and I was looking forward to seeing you again. Then I got sent a report of movements along the Sjan border, and . . . well . . ." Her voice trailed off.
"Have there been more incursions?" Chang asked.
"Unfortunately, yes," Jessica said. "They're testing us and I fear it's only a matter of time before top brass decide on a show of strength."
"You believe we're headed for another war?"
"If we're not careful," Jessica sipped her water. "All the talk at the moment concerns the Sjan and their movements."
"I heard about Ryglah VII," Chang said. They'd all heard the news – the Sjan had attacked an outlying colony, killing everyone there. In any other circumstance, it would have been the spark that ignited a whole new conflict, but the colony on Ryglah VII had left the Union and declared its own independence. The Terran Union was under no obligation to protect the planet or to retaliate when it was attacked. Even six months later, the President was still defending his decision to let the massacre on Ryglah slide in favour of what he called 'the bigger picture', namely intergalactic peace.
"Politically, they're trying to avoid a war at all costs," Jessica said, her voice grave. "But you've got to be a realist, especially when you're talking about an aggressive alien species. Peace will only last so long."
"You think we should have hit back following Ryglah?" Chang asked.
"I do. They may have stepped away from the Union, but they were once Union citizens. The majority were human. We should have shown some strength and conviction. Politically, I feel the President and his administration are only thinking about the voters who are weary of war."
"Sometimes it's inevitable."
"Precisely."
An old-fashioned clock on the wall – no doubt an antique from Earth's history – chimed in time with the swinging of its brass pendulum. "That's a quaint timepiece," Chang remarked.
"Yes. They're hard to come by, you know," Jessica said. "So, let's get on with business and I'll tell you why you're really here."
"Go ahead."
Jessica King activated a small holo-emitter on her desk, mounted on a small stand. Chang had mistaken it for a paperweight when she sat down. A translucent image rotated on it, but was difficult to make out.
"Lights!"
They dimmed around them and the projection was clearly defined. It showed a planet, a surging ball of endless water. "This is the planet Krise. As you can see, it is completely covered in water. In places, it is deeper than anything on Earth. In fact the planet itself is approximately a third bigger than the Earth."
"Life?"
"A thriving population below the surface in pressure domes. It's all quite fascinating. This is the first time they've allowed their home to be documented the way we will."
"Is that my assignment?" Chang asked.
"Not quite. It's a little more complicated," Jessica controlled the emitter to zoom out, revealing the disc of the star system in which it rolled. She pulled back further, to show where that system was situated. Automatically Chang identified the issue.
"They're not part of the Union."
"Not yet," Jessica said. "I'm hoping that they will be, soon, however. With your help."
"Me? What can I do?"
Jessica closed the holo-emitter and at the sound of her voice, the lights returned to a comfortable level. She got up, took her glass of water to the nearest plant pot and poured a little in. "Diplomacy. Your mission is to take the Intrepid to Krise and encourage them to join the Union," she said working her way around all of her plants, until the glass was empty.
"Has something changed to make them want to join?"
"Yes. They recently suffered an attack from an unknown race," Jessica explained. "There were many casualties and some of their underwater habitats were damaged. We got the intel from a trader who frequents Krise, who also happens to be a source of information for Shadow Force."
Of course. Shadow Force: the black ops unit that doesn't officially exist. So that's it, Chang thought. Will passed it on to you. One of the benefits of having a boyfriend assigned to the unit . . .
"Any lead on the attacker's identity?" Chang asked.
"No. Part of your mission will be to ascertain who is responsible. You may be able to use that as leverage for convincing them to become members."
Chang frowned. "Pardon me, Jessica, but why is it so important they join?"
It looked as though the Admiral were about to answer, as if the words were on the tip of her tongue waiting to leap out. But then Jessica King was all business again. "I'm sorry, I can't say. Perhaps when your mission is completed I will be in a position to reveal that to you. For now, understand top brass are extremely keen for Krise to join."
"Understood."
"Oh, and one other thing," Jessica said as Chang got to her feet. "If you should encounter the attackers at any point during your visit to Krise, you are not to engage. Not until the Kriseans have agreed to join, and have presented themselves before the Union congressional committee. In other words, not until the ink has dried. Am I clear?"
Chang nodded. "Clear as crystal."
"Thanks, Lisa," she said, walking her to the door. "I understand Olivia had a hard time finding a new posting?"
"Yes . . ." Chang answered, unsure of where Jessica was going.
"Well, I have a position opening up. The Lieutenant who acts as my assistant is being transferred to Station 11. I'm in need of someone I can trust. Do you know of anyone?" she asked with a wink.
The door to her office whisked open. "I might have someone in mind, Admiral," Chang said.
Jessica stood to attention. Chang followed suit and they both saluted one another.
"See to it she comes to see me," Admiral King told her. "Tell her I won't take no for an answer."
"I will. Thank you."
"Good luck, Captain. To you and your crew."
* * *
Chang caught the transport back to the Intrepid, wondering how Olivia would react to the news Jessica wanted her as her assistant. It was a choice position – one of those niche roles that didn't come along often, simply because officers clung to them once they got them.
Shortly after the battle to stop Cessqa within the Chimera Cluster, Chang had returned to Station 6 to find Olivia had been assigned to the Cotopaxi. To say her partner didn't get along with Captain Bloom was an understatement – Olivia had been looking to jump ship the moment she arrived.
Working with Jessica would be a dream come true, and it carried the added benefit of knowing where Olivia would be. It was hard enough having to leave her to command the Intrepid, but not knowing where Olivia was from one day to the next worried Chang. It worried her because she couldn't be sure Olivia was safe.
She must feel the same way about me, Chang thought. She must wonder whether the Intrepid will return to base in one piece or not.
Since stopping Cessqa, the Intrepid had been assigned no less than half a dozen separate postings. She'd barely seen her former Captain as she settled into her new role. The Admiral had simply dished out the assignments and tried her best to sort through the mess Kerrick had left in his wake. It was good to see the Admiral after so many months . . . and yet Chang yearned for a long mission. Something she could make her name with. She'd never wanted the promotion, but now that she had it, she saw a possibility to make a difference in the Terran Union. Knowing Olivia would be stable, working alongside the Admiral on Station 6, she would be at ease heading into a protracted assignment.
Exploration.
The transport slowed, took a turn, the tracks thudding slightly beneath it until it had accelerated again, powering her through the superstructure of Station 6 toward Chang's awaiting vessel.
The sciences were her expertise, her whole reason for joining in the first place. She wanted to take the Intrepid out and explore the uncharted regions of the galaxy, possibly for a year or two.
I'm sure Olivia would understand.
Still, it was a pipe dream. For now, she had her mission. Head to Krise and investigate, while convincing them to join the Union. Why the sudden interest in what was a featureless, water world?
What's going on under the surface that Admiral King couldn't tell me?
*
Black Nova Part One is available NOW
About Tony Healey
Tony Healey is a best-selling independent author based in the city of Brighton & Hove in the UK. His writing has been published alongside science-fiction legends Harlan Ellison and Alan Dean Foster. He has also had work appear with Piers Anthony, Scott Nicholson and J.R. Rain.
Most of his works are bestsellers, including his smash-hit science-fiction series Far From Home and his gritty fantasy series The Fallen Crown.
Tony is married and has three daughters. For the latest on his various projects, visit
www.tonyhealey.com
By Tony Healey
Far From Home Series 1
Far From Home Series 2
Far From Home Bundle: Series 1 + 2
Far From Home Series 3
Far From Home: The Complete Omnibus
The Stars My Redemption
Age of Destiny (The Broken Stars, Book 1)
The Bloody North (The Fallen Crown, Book 1)
The Rising Fire (The Fallen Crown, Book 2)
The Unclaimed Throne (The Fallen Crown, Book 3)
Dead Pretty
Against The Falling Stars (Short Fiction Collection)
Edge of Oblivion (Editor & Contributor)
Sun Hammer (with Bernard Schaffer)
Confederation Reborn: A Brightly Flickering Flame (with Bernard Schaffer)
Operation Chimera (with Matt Cox)
Hitler Must Die (with William Vitka)
Click Here For His Amazon Author Page
Far From Home Series 1
Follow the adventures of Captain Jessica King and the crew of the Defiant as they find themselves pulled into a black hole and thrown from everything they have ever known.
668 Pages
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Far From Home Series 2
Picking up where the First Series left off, the three novel length adventures Enigma, Nemesis and Vengeance take the best-selling series in a new direction as the mysteries of the past are explored, new enemies are revealed and events take a shocking turn that will leave readers breathlessly waiting for the next installment!
485 Pages
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The Bloody North
Left for dead, his wife and children slaughtered, Rowan Black vows revenge on the man responsible. But first he'll have to make it across the bloody north and that is easier said than done when there's a price on your head . . .
240 Pages
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Age of Destiny
The Terran Union is at war. As the conflict with the Sjan reaches breaking point, the fate of the stars themselves rests in the hands of Max and his ragtag band of friends; a group of misfits who might just prove to be the galaxy's last, best hope . . .
200 Pages
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Praise for the work of Tony Healey
". . . 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."
"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."
". . . 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."
"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 . . ."
Where To Find Tony Healey
www.tonyhealey.com
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web: www.tonyhealey.com
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