Me, I did. In every cruel and excruciating detail, I knew exactly what the Star Forces were going to do to us.
But… no matter the costs, I was going to stop them.
Chapter 4
Lieutenant Commander Nathan Shepherd
The Captain stood there, two fingers pressed into her brow, her eyes half closed as she stared at the wall. “We dodged a bullet,” she said in a low mumbling tone that nonetheless carried easily through her ready room.
I nodded.
“I have no idea how we didn’t pick up the damage to the life-support systems beforehand. We… dodged a bullet,” she repeated as she let her hands drop and then clasp together in front of her. Briefly she turned to her window. But rather than see the vast expanse of space beyond, she saw nothing more than the pockmarked wall of the hangar bay.
I let her stand there in silence for a few seconds before I cleared my throat. “Captain, what do we do now?”
“Well, I’d tell you to stop calling me captain, but I fear that’s a step too far too soon for you.”
“… There’s something to be said for keeping the chain of command,” I said, measuring my words.
She slowly shifted her head until she looked at me. “How are you adjusting?”
“Haven’t had much time, sir,” I let out a small frustrated laugh, “we’ve been running from disaster to disaster.”
“Disasters, if I’m not wrong, you believe we could have circumvented.”
I pressed my teeth together. My training told me not to answer her question.
My training lost out. I looked at her and nodded evenly. “Yes. I understand that it’s a big deal for the crew that we obtained the Ra’xon and that we finally joined the resistance. But we can’t for a second forget who we’re up against. And we can’t for a second forget that a ship like this needs a disciplined crew.”
Far from rebuking me for my honesty, the Captain nodded. “It’s hard, Nathan,” she admitted, using my first name, “and maybe you’re the only other person on board who could appreciate this, as you’ve commanded your own vessel. But there is a fine line between fostering the hope of your crew and crushing it. We need their goodwill and excitement at having finally joined the resistance. We need it, because it will carry them forward during the hard times. And the hard times will come,” her voice dropped low, “the one thing I can’t afford to lose, maybe more than this ship, is their motivation. It’s a fine balance,” she repeated once more.
I conceded her point with a nod. “I understand, Captain.”
“But?” she questioned perceptively as she shifted her gaze to me. “You can be honest, Lieutenant Commander.”
“Alright then. We can’t expect this operation to run smoothly if everybody has their own style of operation. I understand it’s hard for the resistance, I understand they’re undermanned and underpowered. But they don’t look after their equipment. They don’t follow safety protocols. And the security, it’s a goddamn shambles,” I stated boldly.
The Captain shot me a wry smile. “The security chief’s already rubbed you up the wrong way, hasn’t he?”
I chose not to respond to that. “Captain, the damage to the Ra’xon could have been mitigated if the environmental controls in this hangar worked properly. The reason they don’t work properly is not because the resistance doesn’t have the tech to maintain it. It’s because they’re fractured. They’ve lost their training. Some of them have never even been trained,” my voice shook with exasperation as my memory locked onto J’axal and his overbearing arrogance, “and that’s making too many holes. The only reason the Ra’xon is still here, is because Ensign Jenks chose to throw herself off broken scaffolding rather than let this ship die. Everything could have been preventable,” I said, emphasizing everything with a hiss.
At first I thought the Captain would rebuke me. She settled against the desk, her arms crossed. Then she sighed. “I think you’re right. The resistance is fractured. By its very nature it must be fractured. It is made up not just of ex-Star Forces personnel, but every race you can imagine. Everyone with a grievance and an axe to grind has joined us. It’s hard, almost impossible, to knit them all together. Unless, that is,” her gaze swiveled to me, “we have a man like you.”
I wasn’t expecting her comment, and receded, brow crumpling. “Sorry?”
“You have a talent for command, Shepherd. You have a talent for shepherding your crew. Everyone who’s worked under you seems to respect you. You can extract the most from people, and that is a rare gift. One we need.”
I’d started this conversation knowing exactly what I wanted, but now I faltered. It seemed the Captain had been leading me to this point all the time.
She unhooked her long arms and stood, her shadow cutting halfway across the room. “Shepherd, I want you to pull this resistance together. I won’t pretend I haven’t noticed exactly what you have: the resistance needs somebody to unify every disparate group and hold us together.”
“Captain?” I was ashamed to say my voice shook.
She locked her hands on the edge of her desk and leaned forward, gaze unflinching. “Your father has a talent for leading people too.”
I baulked, back stiffening in a snap, a twitch crossing from cheek to cheek.
“But he chooses to keep people together through fear. I’m hoping you have a different style.”
I forced myself to take a breath. “My father,” my voice shook with anger, “is a monster. The only thing I inherited from him was my name.”
The Captain held my gaze. She didn’t say a word. Nor did she blink or look away.
I realized I was being tested. Maybe for the first time, the Captain was allowing herself the opportunity to truly analyze me. After all, I was the son of one of the most decorated admirals in the Star Forces. In her mind, I could be a great asset or a serious liability.
I made no move. Didn’t even swallow. I just waited.
Eventually she straightened up. “We all come to the resistance with different stories,” she counselled, “different motivations, different desires. Nathan Shepherd, I want you to drive us forward. Find some way to take what we are and what we want and make it into the rebellion we need.” With that she nodded at me.
… She couldn’t be serious, could she?
A few hours ago I’d been worried that the resistance would never accept me. Now it seemed that the Captain was unilaterally deciding that I would lead them forward.
I wasn’t equipped for this. Christ, while I’d held command of the Godspeed, it was a relatively small ship, and while it had gone on some pretty critical missions, this was different.
This was saving the entire galaxy.
The Captain did not look away. With her stature and severe countenance, it was like facing a Greek god. I had to use all my will and determination not to recoil.
Finally I forced myself to nod, even though what I wanted to do – what I needed to do – was shake my head and tell her she was crazy. She needed to pick somebody else. Somebody with more of a clue as to how you take a resistance and make it into an attack force.
“There will be many resources to draw on. But you will have to act quickly.”
I looked up as I heard the sense of urgency in her voice. “What is it?”
“The Star Forces are increasing their attacks on the resistance. They are using whatever methods they can to track us down. Somebody interfered with our life-support system,” she added.
“… Wouldn’t that have been the two enforcement officers?”
“Perhaps. Williams doesn’t think it’s likely. She thinks such a task would have been beyond them.”
“So what are you saying, Captain?” My mouth was dry.
“I’m saying we must always be on our toes. I’m saying, that while you must knit the resistance together, you must also flush out its opposition.”
“Spies?” my voice shook.
“We can’t rule anything out. Maybe you’re right, and maybe it was th
ose two enforcement officers who sabotaged our life-support system. Maybe it wasn’t. Maybe there are opponents amongst the ranks. Shepherd, do what you can,” she said simply.
Responsibility and dread surged through me at exactly the same time. It felt like I was drowning and burning all at once.
“… What you’re saying is all very well, Captain, but the resistance isn’t the Star Forces. I have no command. Why would anyone follow me?”
“You have the esteem of the Ra’xon’s crew. You have my esteem,” she said directly, “and you seem to have the affections of the Lady Argoza.”
I had to stifle a cough. I also darted my gaze to the side quickly.
“People trust you. Yes, you will have your detractors, but I think you’ll be smart enough to keep them in line. I have every faith in you, Shepherd.”
I wanted to wince, but stopped myself. “So that’s it? I just go out there, bang on a drum, and announce to the rest of the resistance that I’m going to lead them from now on?” my voice broke with shifting disbelief.
“You will not lead the resistance. Our targets will still be decided by the ruling council. But you will be a moral compass. You will assist us to bring together every group under our command, and you will assist us to root out those we cannot trust.”
Now I nodded. I finally understood.
As the commander of the Godspeed, I’d been an intelligence officer. I knew the ropes when it came to investigating people.
Suddenly I recognized the irony of the situation, and I let out a small laugh.
The Captain cocked an eyebrow. “What is it? I wasn’t aware I’d made any jokes.”
“You haven’t, Captain. It’s just I realized that my original mission from the Star Forces was to infiltrate the resistance. Now I’m part of the resistance and I’m looking for infiltrators.”
The Captain conceded my point with a nod. “There was a reason the Star Forces picked you for that mission.”
“Because of my old man?”
“No, because you’re the best.”
I hated hearing that all the time. I frankly did not deserve that accolade. Had I been the one to stop the Ra’xon from exploding and taking out half this planet? No. That was the Chief Engineer and Jenks. Had I been the one to stop the two enforcement officers? No. That had been Williams.
How the hell could I be the best of the best when I kept standing on the sidelines and doing nothing at all?
Maybe the Captain knew what I was thinking because she shook her head. “Give it time, Nathan. You will adjust. Now, I’m due to have a meeting with Lady Argoza and the other council members at the base. We must discuss our next step. I want you to attend the meeting too.”
I nodded.
“That will be all, Shepherd.”
“Actually, there is one more thing. I want access to the Ra’xon’s databases.”
The Captain looked at me impassively. “Why?”
I swallowed. I couldn’t come out and tell the Captain I wanted to look up Jenks. That would sound exactly like I was a stalker. I had another reason though. “Captain, I don’t know if you know much about why the Enforcement Unit was after me, but…” I briefly told her my story, proud that I kept myself together, even when I mentioned the death of my best friend.
She shook her head. “I was not aware of the exact details. Even Commander F’val did not appear to know. Thank you for sharing your story with me though. This dig in the Mari Sector could prove to be valuable intelligence.”
“What do you think the Star Forces are up to?” I couldn’t control my tone. Just remembering what they’d done to Weatherby made my hackles rise.
She shook her head. “This I don’t know. We should raise it at the meeting. One thing seems to be obvious though – whatever’s in the Mari Sector, Star Forces are desperate to gain control of it.”
“… So we can do something about it?”
“We’ll raise it with the Council. If it is considered valuable enough, they will accept it as a target. You have full use of the Ra’xon’s databases. See what information you can uncover. The meeting’s in 20.”
I took a step back and saluted. I didn’t have to anymore, but I could hardly tell my limbs to stop. They seemed to have a mind of their own.
I turned sharply on my boot and walked out of the room, thoughts filling with multiple questions.
Now the imminent danger to the Ra’xon had been addressed, I had enough time to let my thoughts return to Weatherby and that mysterious archaeological dig.
I hadn’t forgotten about it. Not for a second. It was the whole goddamn reason I was here, after all.
If the Captain was right, and I somehow held her esteem and the esteem of the other ex-Star Forces crew in the resistance, then maybe, just maybe I would be able to use my influence to setup a mission to the Mari Sector.
A mission I had every intention of joining.
First, I had a pressing question.
I walked back to my room. Call it instinct, call it the desire to be alone in a space I could trust just for a few short minutes.
As soon as the doors closed behind me, I marched up to my workstation. “Computer, I want a full personnel report on all current members of the Ra’xon’s crew. I also want all information relating to the following message,” I typed something quickly into the console before me.
A few hover panels blinked into existence above my workstation, their bright blue and white light spilling out through the semi-darkened room.
I pushed two fingers under my tight collar, shifting the fabric around, trying to make it comfortable against my neck.
… I could just take it off though, couldn’t I? There was no way this stiff, starched Star Forces uniform would ever be comfortable. It wasn’t meant to be comfortable. It was meant to be severe.
But I could just as easily ditch it for a comfortable set of civilian clothes.
Briefly I considered that option, letting my gaze slice towards the cupboard at the far end of the room.
I soon shook my head though.
I don’t know why, but I wanted to keep my uniform on for now. Maybe I wanted to draw on whatever power was left from my command, or maybe I couldn’t part with what this uniform meant just yet. What it truly meant. Not blind loyalty to the Star Forces, but membership of a group that was meant to protect the galaxy.
A fact I held onto as I let my gaze dart over the personnel files streaming over the holo-screen.
Technically what I was doing wasn’t that strange. The Captain had told me to search for spies, after all.
As soon as I reached Jenks’ file, I paused and read the whole thing.
She graduated from the Academy a few years ago, and she had an exemplary record. The only item of note was that she had a so-called difficult personality. Most of her superiors had always found her distant, and as for her roommates, it seemed she’d never gotten on with any of them.
It mentioned nothing about her single-handedly saving the ship on any occasion, but maybe Jenks had never had a chance to shine before now.
I grew more and more frustrated as I read her file. It wasn’t telling me anything I wanted to know.
I wanted to know why she was like she was. There had to be a story there. I was sure of it.
I’d already set the computer to remind me of the meeting, and it now gave a soft blip to indicate that I only had 10 minutes left.
I gave another frustrated sigh and shifted close to my workbench, locking my hands on the edge and letting my fingers drum across the toughened metal glass. “Show me Jenks’ psychological assessment,” I snapped at the computer.
The assessment blinked up onto the screen. I scanned it, letting out another groan of frustration.
None of this was helping.
Then again, what exactly was I looking for? Did I honestly think that somewhere buried in Jenks’ Star Forces file would be the reason for her current state? The Star Forces didn’t exactly collect sob stories. They kept whatever information
they thought was necessary to keep a crew member performing at peak efficiency.
Still, I stowed away what facts I learnt. Which Academy she’d gone to, what sector she’d been born in, even her grades.
Who knew, it could all come in handy one day.
Then I reluctantly turned my attention to the message.
The Ra’xon should have had a complete copy of my conversation with Lieutenant Hargrove.
It didn’t.
It had been deleted.
Every trace of it had been deleted. Owing to the significance of the message, I remembered the exact day and time I’d received it. And plugging those details into the Ra’xon did suggest that I had indeed received a communication at the nominated time and date. But the communication itself and almost all traces of it had been removed from the Ra’xon’s database.
I supposed that meant that the two enforcement officers who’d been aboard the Ra’xon had done it, right?
I frowned at that. I don’t know why. It just didn’t seem right.
Something wasn’t fitting together.
I took a step back, clutched a hand onto my jaw, and let my eyes narrow at the information slowly scrolling over the holo-screen.
“You have approximately six minutes to make it to the allotted meeting,” the computer informed me.
I didn’t respond, instead I clenched my teeth together and shifted my jaw from side-to-side. “Computer, draw up all information on archaeological sites of interest in the Mari Sector.”
“There are no sites of archaeological interest in the Mari Sector,” the computer stated immediately.
“What, in the entire sector? Doesn’t it have at least 10 planets and, oh, about 13 moons?”
“The Mari Sector has nine planets and 14 moons,” the computer corrected me.
“You’re saying that none of them have any archaeological significance? The Mari Sector is in a known transport route, one that’s been used for eons. How could there be nothing of significance whatsoever in the entire sector?”
“There are no known archaeological sites of interest in the Mari Sector,” the computer repeated.
The Crucible- The Complete Series Page 20