The Earthfleet Saga- Volume Two

by Dennis Young

  “Just keep your ears open for anything beyond our vicinity. There still may be Qoearc lurking in the distance.”

  “Will do.”

  Murphy clicked off and thumped the back of her head against the wall. I need a drink.

  * * *

  Murphy bypassed the mess, headed for Sickbay.

  “Can I help you, Captain?” Nurse Butler was at the desk, and stood as Murphy entered.

  “Is Doc off duty?”

  “Yes, she’s in the lab, left here about a half hour ago.”

  Murphy nodded thanks and nearly sprinted around the tight curve of the corridor. She found Melinkov at a small computer station, reading.

  “Good day, Captain. Tea?”

  Murphy slid a chair over and accepted the cup gratefully. She drank, draining nearly every drop. The doctor refilled it, watching her carefully.

  “Something is on your mind, Captain.”

  It was not a question, and Murphy nodded. “I’m contemplating a life-changing event and need someone to talk me out of it.”

  “Truly? How so?”

  Murphy drank again, then stared into her empty cup. “Do you know the word ‘treasure-hunter’, Doctor?”

  Melinkov considered. “I understand the concept, however in Russian language, there are many variations, as there are in English.”

  “Such as?”

  Melinkov shrugged. “For one, ‘bounty hunter’, or perhaps ‘glory-seeker’. The phrase may be considered in several ways, Captain. However, I do not think you are looking for this answer, yes?”

  Murphy shook her head, pausing. “I’m not sure what I’m looking for. As I said—”

  “Yes, I heard you well. You are contemplating a course of action you do not wish to take, but may be forced to. Correct?”

  “Not… exactly.”

  Melinkov sipped her tea. “Mm… then what, Captain?”

  Murphy closed her eyes, saying nothing.

  “Why did you join Earthfleet?”

  Murphy looked at Melinkov from beneath her lowered brow. “I didn’t have many choices.”

  “You were an excellent student in medical school until you, shall we say, lost your way.”

  “My mother died. I… fell apart. I flunked out in a single semester. I bummed around San Francisco for a year before I enlisted. Got pushed back toward med school and said no thanks. Then was offered a scholarship on athletics and screwed that up, too.”

  “Yet you finished your schooling and graduated near the top of your class.”

  “Yeah. Now I owe Earthfleet for the remainder of my education, about two years’ worth. They take it out of my pay, did you know that, too?”

  “No, but I have heard of similar situations.” Melinkov refilled both cups and drank again. “So, what is this thing I am to talk you out of, Captain? Can it be so serious that you need your doctor’s advice?”

  Murphy grunted. “Touché.” They laughed together, then were silent for a moment. “What would you think about a change of career, Doc?”

  Melinkov shrugged. “I have often thought a life of beach-combing would be wonderful. However, I do not care for the beach, nor many of the lifeforms inhabiting the oceans. Therefore, I would simply sit in my dacha, drink tea, and read. I might do that in the middle of the city, no? Where there are many more other distractions as well.”

  “Ever thought about being a treasure-hunter? And coming upon the greatest treasure you could ever imagine?”

  Melinkov studied Murphy’s face. “I think there is another word more appropriate here, Captain.”

  “I figured you would. And that word would be…?”

  “In Russian, it is pronounced something like ‘yerapt’. It is a simple word with a simple meaning.”

  “Yerapt,” Murphy repeated. “And its meaning?”

  Melinkov drank and set down her cup, meeting Murphy eye to eye. “Pirate.”

  Murphy held her breath, then relaxed a bit. “You know me too well, Doc.”

  “I also know you are a good officer and not stupid. I know you have issues with authority, but desire structure in your life. I know you are strong in many ways, and one of those ways is in knowing when to do the right thing.”

  “And this is one of those times, right?”

  Melinkov shrugged again. “I cannot say for you. I can only advise what I observe.”

  “I think you’ve already made pretty clear, Doc.”

  She nodded. “Then you have only to consider your own actions, which affect many people besides yourself. After all, you are captain of this vessel, and the crew looks to you for guidance.”

  “Laying it on pretty thick, aren’t you, Doc?”

  “As you say. However, as you consider this change of careers, as you call it, also consider the consequences. Where would you go? Whom could you trust? Could you live always looking over your shoulder, knowing you had betrayed vows and friends and family?”

  “You sound like a holo-movie.”

  Melinkov nodded, side to side. “Perhaps I have watched too many old stories. Think also, we have been out here nearly a year with no contact other than ourselves. You now have a new life coming into the world under your command. You have found a great prize, a treasure as you say, that does not belong to you, or may belong to no one, depending on whom you ask. What will you do? Only you can say, and I do not think you have that answer yet.”

  Murphy was silent for a time. “The question in my mind is, what will you do, Doc?”

  Melinkov shrugged with her eyes. “Concerning what? We are only talking, yes, to fill the time? One must let one’s mind play out scenarios when necessary, to make the right choice. We have spoken on occasion, and I knew at some point in our mission, you would come to me with concerns. This has been building for a time, Captain, and only now do you have an opportunity worth true consideration. I would hope you do so with all factors in mind.”

  * * *

  The Boarding Party…

  Ch’rehrin sat away from the other crew, contemplating. That is, if one could truly “sit away” in a craft as small as the skiff, it was what he chose to do. Between Ball’s gentle snoring as he slept, Wèi flipping pages back and forth in her report folder, to the incessant rattle of the air system blower, the need for solitude pressed in on him. If he could not be alone physically, mentally would have to do.

  The Arneci were a passionate people, but had learned the hard way that passions could be the way to destruction. They shared much in common with humans, in that war had plagued their world for centuries. It was only when they came to the realization that there could be only one ending, things began to change. That, too, had taken centuries. And lives. Many, many lives.

  Humans were the first alien species the Arneci had encountered in their stellar travels, and they, in turn, were the first for humans as well. It had been a fortuitous meeting, in many ways, and the cooperation had grown quickly. Now, with Arneci serving on many Earthfleet ships, and human scientists aiding in researching issues of genetic problems and mutations in the Arneci population, the paring of the two Races became more than its parts. Mutual dependence took the place of mutually assured destruction. And friendships had grown, in and out of Earthfleet and the Earth Alliance.

  Ch’rehrin smiled softly at the remembrances. And the opportunities, as this one, such cooperation had afforded him and many of his kind.

  The mystery of the vessel was his most interesting concern, but with that was the uniqueness of the mission itself. Never, in his fifteen-year Earthfleet career, had he seen an OC issue occur, nor the need for, as humans said, a “cover story” of the Qoearc mining project. Further, assignment of such a covert task to Pheidippides, and its somewhat ill-suited commanding officer, seemed, to be blunt, ill-advised. Yet, as they were the only Fleet ship in the area, and the arrival of any substantial forces would draw notice by the Qoearc, likely this was the best course of action… for the moment.

  Ch’rehrin knew they had a very limited time to learn wha
tever secrets this discovery held. He reasoned at least one Qoearc ship was watching nearby, just out of detection range. There might be drones hovering around, too small or too stealthed to be noticed by even Pheidippides’s sensors. He made a mental note to recommend Murphy send one of theirs on a scouting mission of its own.

  He glanced at the chronometer. He would wait one more hour, then wake Ball, leave Wèi in the skiff for this foray, and attempt entry into the fortified area of the vessel. Whatever was in there, and it had to be a substantial volume of something, was apparently important enough for whoever launched it to protect.

  Like most Arneci, he did not speculate; rather; he would work through progressions and possibilities of what the contents might be. But at this moment, and to his chagrin, he could find no answer to the situation.

  Perhaps that was why humans were better guessers and tacticians than Arneci. Because of their illogic.

  * * *

  EAS Pheidippides…

  Murphy closed and sealed the door to her quarters. She sat on her bunk, numb to the core. The doctor had seen right through her, as she usually did. Just like her mom had done, every single time Murphy tried something stupid. Or dangerous. Or really, really interesting.

  Okay, now what? Nothing, I guess. I’m an Earthfleet officer and I have a job to do. If I don’t do it, then what? I’m out of the service? Brought up on charges? Mutinied against? An “unfortunate accident where the captain tried to do something she shouldn’t have”? Get a posthumous citation for “bravery”? Cripes, how stupid could I be?

  She swore beneath her breath.

  I’m less than a year from getting off this ship, maybe sooner if we come back with a real treasure for Fleet to pat us on the back for. On the other hand, if we do such a good job, they may just send us right back out again. No good deed goes unpunished, right? She shook her head at her own joke.

  The intercom squawked. “Captain, Bridge. Lieutenant Ch’rehrin is on the horn and is asking for the Captain’s recommendations.” Honley’s voice was far too cheerful for Murphy’s mood.

  She hit the intercom switch a bit too hard. “Ten minutes, Chuck. I’m in the Head seeing a dog about a man.”

  Honley made a desperate attempt to suppress his laughter. He clicked off without acknowledging.

  Murphy took moments to wash her face, change jumpsuit, and shake her hair out, then tie it back again. Maybe I tied it too tight earlier and that made my brain screwy. Sure… any excuse for admitting to the doctor you wanna be a pirate when you grow up.

  She sighed and walked out the door, taking the few steps needed to enter the Bridge.

  * * *

  The Boarding Party…

  Ch’rehrin waited with Gil and Ball by the durasteel doors at the shielded area entrance. They had confirmed the latch plate and handle were mild steel, a design error none of them could explain. Regardless, it was their only option to enter the shielded area and see what lay within.

  “Murphy here. You’re at the doors, Lieutenant?”

  “Affirmative, Captain, waiting for instructions.”

  “Permission to cut the latch plate. Be gentle with it. Don’t want to wake the monsters.”

  Ch’rehrin nodded to Gil, then he and Ball stepped back ten paces. Gil set his torch for low power and aimed at a corner of the plate and pressed the trigger. The steel cut, but slowly.

  “Going to medium power,” said Gil, then aimed again. This time, the crimson beam burned easily through the target, and in less than a minute, the latch plate and lever floated free.

  “Don’t touch it,” said Ball.

  Gil only nodded. The metal was obviously hot, and emitted a drifting cloud of particles. They tracked it as it cooled, then Ball plucked it out of the passage vacuum and stuffed it into his carry-all.

  “Captain, we’ve removed the latch and plate.” Ch’rehrin motioned Gil to play his light through the opening to see what he might.

  “Dark, but a lot of… looks like tanks. Or vats. Hard to tell, but the area is full of them.”

  “Control boards, consoles, lights of any sort?” asked Wèi from the skiff.

  “I suggest we enter, since we now have access,” said Ch’rehrin.

  “Proceed,” replied Murphy. “With caution.”

  Gil swung the door open easily, then took a step inside. Overhead lights came on, soft, and leaving little room for shadows. A flicker, and slowly, they began to hear, through their external suit pickups, fans moving in the ceiling.

  “Air pressure coming up, oxy-nitrogen mix.” Ball reported as he watched his helmet tell-tales rise. “Should be breathable in a few minutes.”

  “Close the door and cover the hole made by our entry,” ordered Ch’rehrin.

  “Keep your suits sealed,” came Murphy’s voice from Pheidippides. “Under no circumstances will you remove your helmets.”

  “Understood, Captain.” Ch’rehrin swept his eyes about, as did Gil and Ball.

  They moved away from the door slowly, side arms in hand, looking round at the collection of tanks taking up most of the floor space. Each was about fifteen feet in diameter and five feet high, all durasteel. PADDs, or something like them, were mounted on the top center of each tank, with a continuous string of symbols running. Each tank was labeled in heavy black letters, all English language, obviously coded.

  “Captain, what we’re seeing—”

  “I have the feed from your helmetcam, Mr. Ch’rehrin. Sweep the room slowly, then move to each tank individually and focus on the screen at the top of each one for ten seconds. Hatu, check temp on these tanks if you can, Mr. Ball, look for the main panel and any access to the areas above.”

  “Wèi here, Captain. The energy output has gone up drastically from the vessel, but it’s all centered in the area of the boarding party. Looks like the power source is one floor below. There must be some heavy shielding to keep us from detecting it previously.”

  “Thanks, Jia-Lan. Ch’rehrin, continue your sweep, Hatu, see if you can access the area below where you are. Don’t descend, just find it.”

  “Captain, the main panel is on the wall ninety degrees from our entry point,” said Ball. “It appears to be a feed from each of the tank screens, plus a lot of additional data, mostly environmental and engineering.”

  “Sounds about right,” said Wèi, from the skiff.

  “Captain, I can’t tell anything about temperature in the tanks, but I get the impression whatever is in there is very cold. There are two vents on each tank and piping running down through the floor. Some of the vents are… well, venting, very slightly.”

  “Alright Hatu, don’t worry about it. Look for access to the power source. Mr. Ch’rehrin, anything else?”

  “Confirming Lieutenant Ball’s findings, Captain. The main panel is a monitoring nexus for the tanks, and presumably the rest of the ship. There are forty tanks with heavily sealed and toggled lids. There is an apparatus at the ceiling with cables, pulleys, rigid connectors, and a large hook attachment to move over the tanks and lift the lids if necessary.”

  “Just say it’s an overhead crane, Ch’rehrin.”

  “It is an overhead crane, Captain.”

  “Thank you.”

  Ball and Gil both snickered, and they thought they could hear Wèi nearly choking on her laughter.

  * * *

  EAS Pheidippides…

  The intercom was quiet for a few minutes. Murphy looked around the Bridge. No one was actually laughing, but it was close. Honley at Comm had his face in both hands, away from Murphy. She shook her head, then hid her own grin.

  “Chuck, send Lieutenant Ch’rehrin’s camera feed to Doctor Melinkov’s office.” Murphy pressed the intercom button. “Sickbay, Bridge. Doc, take a look at these files and let me know what you think. Come to the Bridge when you’ve had a few minutes to review them.” She clicked off. “Mr. Ch’rehrin, what’s your time allowance?”

  “We are well equipped, Captain, only now into our second hour of consumables. Y
our orders?”

  Murphy dithered. “I want to discuss this with Doctor Melinkov before we proceed. In the meantime, continue searching for access above and below the level you’re on. Once you find them, take five.”

  “I’ve found the hatch leading below, Captain,” said Gil. “And there are three ladders leading upward from various areas, all situated around the walls.” He swept his helmetcam slowly about.

  “Good work, Hatu. OK, take a break, continue monitoring, and yell if anything pops up.”

  “Very well, Captain. Reports in fifteen-minute intervals until you give us new instructions.” Ch’rehrin switched off the camera feed, but kept his comm line open.

  “No change in energy output since the spike, Captain,” reported Wèi in the skiff. “Minor power sources above the level of our party.”

  “Noted, Ensign. Keep your eyes on our crew.”

  An hour passed. Ch’rehrin checked in three times with new details, none of which were urgent. Murphy was about to order the boarding party back to the skiff when her intra-ship intercom light glowed. “Bridge, this is Doctor Melinkov. Captain, will you join me in my office, please?”

  Murphy pressed the in-ship switch. “What have you got, Doc?”

  “A possible answer to why this mission was OC priority. And maybe even an answer to what the vessel we are investigating might be.”

  Everyone on the Bridge turned to Murphy, nearly as one.

  “On my way.” She nearly ran to the doors.

  * * *

  It took Murphy less than thirty seconds to round the curve to Sickbay. Nurse Butler pointed to the office as she entered. Murphy closed the door behind her, then sat, nearly breathless.

  Melinkov turned from her screen and folded her hands on the desk. “We have wondered why such a mission, a simple set of coordinates, was sent with such high priority, yes?”

  “Your penchant for understatement is amusing sometimes, Doc, and for you to come up with this in a matter of an hour is pretty interesting.”

  “Can we speak with the First Officer on a private line?”

  Murphy blinked. “Sure, but first, tell me why.”