Darkest Reach

by Eric Warren

  Box’s eyes blinked twice, indicating he was considering it. He leaned closer to Cas. “It’d be okay. I can reattach it easily. It’s a simple surgery.”

  “Box…”

  He lifted his index finger out to Cas, wiggling it. “Dangle, dangle.”

  Cas smacked his hand away. “Can you cut it out for one minute! I need to talk to you.”

  Box made the sound of a sigh deep in his chest and handed his data recorder to Nurse Menkel. “If you need me to watch you drink yourself into a stupor again, I’m afraid I’m on duty.”

  “I’m thinking about taking my commission back.” Cas’s eyes caught Menkel’s gaze. He leaned around Box. “Do you mind? This is a private matter.”

  The nurse turned to one of the other crates, his back to them.

  “Is this because I gave you a hard time about it?” Box asked. “Don’t tell me you thought I was serious.”

  “I’m just thinking it might be better for everyone, including you and me. They still haven’t decided on your status yet. If it comes back as unfavorable as an officer of the Coalition I might be able to protect you.”

  Box made a sound that sounded like a chortle, but not quite. “Don’t pretend you’re doing this for me. I’m perfectly fine without your help. You want to do this for you, but I can’t figure out why. Weren’t you the one who said you would never go back to them? That the Coalition wasn’t worth getting involved with? What about jail? What about Kathora?”

  Cas felt like he was going on the defensive. “I think most of that was Rutledge. He even copped to it.”

  “He was in charge of all of it? The entire mining operation. All the parolees. The parole board and the Derander cronies staffing the mine. He did it all alone?” Box’s glare seemed more penetrating than should be legal for a robot.

  “Okay, maybe not completely alone. But how am I supposed to help change things when I’m outside of the system?”

  “Seems like you’re doing a pretty good job so far.”

  He couldn’t argue with that. “I think I can do better. I think I can do more. Maybe even figure out how deep all this goes. I can’t do that if I’m not even part of it.”

  Box’s eyes flickered in a pattern Cas recognized as confusion. “Boss, aren’t there more important things you need to focus on? Last time I checked we’ve got an unknown alien threat headed here with no way to defend against them.”

  “Don’t you see,” Cas whispered. “This is a chance for me to get what I had back. But this time I won’t have a bunch of people working against me from the inside.”

  “What about getting your own ship? Going off to explore? Or have you given that up?”

  “Box.” Cas made sure Menkel was far enough away not to hear. “No one is going to be exploring anything for a while. This trip out to Omicron Terminus is going to take at least two seasons. And if we survive it will be another two back to Coalition space. Exploring really isn’t an option anymore. At least not until this is all over. If we even survive.”

  “I can’t believe my sensors,” Box said, returning to his crate. “After all they’ve done to you. And after all this time you’re willing to give them a second chance. I don’t understand humans sometimes.”

  Something tugged at Cas’s mind, but he pushed it away. It didn’t matter what Box said. This was the right call. At least for right now. “Thanks for your ‘help’,” he said, turning his back to Box.

  “Anytime,” Box called after him. “Seems like the castration wasn’t necessary after all.”

  Cas gritted his teeth but didn’t take the bait. He did have the urge to stop by the bar but instead made his way back to his quarters. The captain had asked him to be on the bridge when they departed but he was exhausted and the day was barely half over. He needed a quick nap before returning back to duty. If wasn’t like he had an official title or position. Though being the liaison between Zenfor and the rest of the crew was taxing. Maybe Box was right, maybe he wasn’t cut out for this line of work anymore. He’d spent so much time in the Sargan Commonwealth he’d grown used to doing things a lot differently. But he’d been able to adapt to that lifestyle, so why couldn’t he adapt back?

  Cas reached his quarters and shrugged off his jacket, tossing it on the already messy bed. He passed the mirror and stopped, trying to imagine what he would look like in a Coalition uniform again. He’d filled out some around the middle and stood with a slight hunch. He straightened himself and sucked in his gut, imagining how the gray uniform would fit close and tight. They were always tight. It wouldn’t take long to print one. But it would mean he could no longer keep the jacket.

  Shaking his head Cas moved on from the mirror and pulled his boots off, falling on his bed. But as soon as he closed his eyes all thoughts of sleep left his mind. Instead, it was filled with indecision, not to mention trying to figure out how he was going to integrate Zenfor into this crew if he couldn’t even integrate himself.

  He tossed and turned for at least fifteen minutes before becoming frustrated and giving up. Cas retreated to his washroom and cleaned himself up, putting on a fresh set of clothes. Maybe Xax could give him something for sleep later. Tapping the personal comm they’d issued him—he still didn’t have a Coalition-issue one again, for obvious reasons—he sent a call to Zenfor.

  “Yes?” she said, sounding impatient.

  Cas saw no point in beating around the bush. There was only one way to get the crew used to Zenfor and that was to make her as visible and accessible as possible. She’d had the entire trip back to study their history and current technology. It was time to put all of that knowledge to work. “Tomorrow I’d like to start in engineering. You can meet those you haven’t seen before and we can—”

  “You mean the Claxian.”

  Cas nodded, even though he was alone. “Yes, I mean Commander Sesster and the others as well. We’ll be working closely with them. I’ll meet you down there tomorrow at oh-five-hundred.”

  “I’ll be anticipating it.” She ended the call.

  That was easier than he’d thought. He had been afraid she might be resistant after what had happened in the docking bay. But it didn’t hurt she had expressed to him on multiple occasions about wanting to meet the commander—the only Claxian on board. For the entire journey back from Sil space she and Mil’less had chosen to stay in their quarters, studying. Their only contact had been Cas checking in with Zenfor daily to ensure everything was still tolerable. Captain Greene had thought it would be better for them to keep to themselves until they reached the starbase, when everything could be formalized. Cas wasn’t sure it had gone how the captain had hoped, but everyone was in place now. Time was short and if she was going to help them fight this threat, they needed to start working on their defenses. She couldn’t stay holed up in her quarters any longer.

  Under his feet Cas felt the plating vibrate, indicating the main engines had ignited. They were underway.

  8

  The following morning Cas was up earlier than normal, sleep had eluded him most of the night. He’d fought a mighty urge to visit the bar again, Evie’s words of disapproval echoed through his head and instead had stayed in his quarters, reading his old maps. After everything he’d been through, it was kind of a miracle he’d kept them this long. It had taken him years to collect them from dozens of different Coalition worlds when he was still an officer, often bartering for them, though a few were a gift. Most planets didn’t keep paper maps anymore but the few they did have he liked to collect. There were even a few from Earth, though many were in terrible condition. Barely legible in some places. But he enjoyed them all the same.

  When he’d been arrested, they, along with all the rest of his personal items from the Achlys had been stored in a secure facility on Eight. After he’d fled the Coalition with Box the robot had volunteered to retrieve them for him. Of course it had required some modifications to Box’s system, resulting in some additional enhancements that Cas hadn’t anticipated. But when Box showed up with
the tubes of maps in his arms, Cas could have kissed him. In fact, he thought he might have mentioned it to Box at the time and Box responded with some smartass remark.

  Something about using ancient technology to navigate the stars fascinated Cas. The ancient humans who charted many of the systems didn’t have all the same conveniences they did now. But of course it had been over two thousand years ago.

  After wasting enough time reminiscing, Cas had rolled them back up and replaced them in his closet in their protective sleeves, then readied himself for the day. He considered calling Zenfor again to make sure she was already on her way but thought better of it. She didn’t need him micromanaging her schedule. He was a liaison, not an assistant. If she couldn’t get to engineering on time that was on her, not him.

  As he made his way to engineering thoughts of how he would introduce Zenfor to Sesster plagued his mind. As far as he knew, neither species had ever encountered each other, despite some similarities they shared. The Claxians were an advanced race and had helped the humans form the Coalition millennia ago despite all the physical differences. Most Claxians were four to five meters high with a central shaft for a body with five long appendages protruding from it. Each appendage could act as a “hand” as they ended in five “fingers”. They didn’t have any eyes or optical sensors of any kind, but had the ability to sense and perceive objects beyond the visual spectrum. They also didn’t speak, instead they communicated through a type of telepathy only certain individuals could receive. Because of this, they tended not to integrate into large social cultures like that on a starship. But Commander Sesster was unique in that regard. It was only his presence on the ship that provided the skill and ability to operate the undercurrent drive, which was twice as fast as any other Coalition ship. He spoke through an avatar when he needed to, which in most cases was Ensign Tyler, one of the junior engineers. Cas found he could also hear the thoughts of the Claxian, and transmit thoughts back to him if he concentrated hard enough.

  While the Sil didn’t use telepathy to the best of his knowledge, they did intentionally obscure their vision while on their ships. Cas had since learned their bio-suits provided them with everything they needed while aboard, including the need to see, breathe, eat or eliminate. How that was possible, he wasn’t sure. But then again, the Sil had tens of thousands of years of technology beyond that of most Coalition worlds. But he found it strange both species didn’t need the use of eyes to excel. He’d always considered his sight his most important sense. Maybe this small commonality could be used as a bridge of sorts. Negotiator Laska would be proud.

  “Allow me through or you’ll find yourself cut in half while you still breathe.” Zenfor’s voice reached Cas halfway down the hallway and he broke into a sprint the last few meters to the engineering entrance. He found Zenfor there, standing akimbo with her hands curled into claws while Ensign Tyler and two other engineering crew faced her, a pistol in one of their hands.

  “Whoa, whoa, stand down!” Cas yelled, though the engineers paid him no attention. He maneuvered himself in between them and Zenfor, using his body to block as much of her as he could. “What the hell is going on here?”

  “She says she has clearance to enter engineering,” Tyler said. He was young, with a crop of red hair combed to the side and a boyish face he hadn’t quite grown into yet.

  “She does,” Cas said, keeping his eye on the pistol. “Unless you want an interstellar incident, you need to put that away. Now.” The engineer glanced at her friend beside her and withdrew the weapon, dropping it to the side. “You do understand she’s our ally, right? Her job is to help?”

  “Maybe you don’t understand since you’ve been off the job a while,” Tyler said. “But we have protocols. We can’t allow someone into sensitive areas of the ship without an escort.”

  “I’m her escort,” Cas yelled.

  “You weren’t here,” Tyler retorted. “And she threatened us with bodily harm if we didn’t let her through.” His eyes cut to the side and he shook his head. Cas furrowed his brow. Something had distracted Tyler.

  “Is he speaking to you? Right now?”

  I am.

  Hello, Commander, Cas thought.

  Hello again. I told Tyler he was being too impulsive but he’s young and doesn’t like to listen. Please escort the Consul inside.

  “I assume you caught that?” Cas asked. A scowl formed over Tyler’s face.

  “Come with me,” he finally said.

  Cas glanced behind him to see Zenfor had relaxed her stance, though her hands were still in claws. “Your crew is not making a good first impression,” she said.

  “I know. We will do better. A lot of people will be nervous around you at first. The only knowledge most people have of the Sil are of the so-called war a hundred years ago. They’re not sure what to expect.”

  She dropped her hands. “I should have spent more time away from Mil’less on the journey from Quaval.”

  “Maybe. But we can’t do anything about that now.”

  The engineers had made their way to the giant door which sealed off engineering from the rest of the ship. As Tyler approached, the door rolled away as if on a giant track and the three engineers stepped through, the one with the pistol depositing it in the weapons locker beside the door.

  Cas led Zenfor inside and kept an eye on her face as she took the place in. While she didn’t show outright surprise, he thought there had been something flicker in her eyes when she saw Sesster, relaxed in his custom-built cradle at the far end of the large room. Upon their entrance one of Sesster’s arms pulled itself away from the cradle and seemed to “stare” at them before the rest of his body followed and he began his cartwheels over to Zenfor, covering the distance in only one full revolution of his body.

  “I’ve been looking forward to this,” Zenfor said.

  Tyler stepped forward. “He says—”

  Zenfor raised her hand. “Yes. I heard him. Thank you, Commander. I feel the same.” She hadn’t taken her eyes off Sesster.

  Cas glanced over to Tyler whose face had gone red as he stepped back. Cas had seen the same look on Tyler’s face when he realized Cas could communicate with Sesster as well.

  “My people have always been curious about yours,” Zenfor said as Sesster bent his lower appendages so his entire body lowered. “No, it’s interdimensional.”

  Cas stood back. It looked like he wouldn’t have to facilitate the meeting after all, they seemed to be getting along fine without him. Though he did wish he could hear what they were saying.

  It is a private conversation.

  Cas smirked, unable to hide his amusement at Sesster monitoring his thoughts. You’ll tell me if she says anything concerning.

  Of course, Sesster replied. That was good enough for him. Sesster had covered for him when Cas had gone to find the Sil originally and he hadn’t needed to. But he’d seen the need, even if Cas’s methods hadn’t exactly been up to Coalition standards.

  Cas turned to Tyler. “So where can we set her up? She’ll need a large workspace as she’ll be working with physical prototypes.”

  Tyler narrowed his eyes. “We don’t have a lot of room in here. I can fit her over by Pearson.”

  Cas glanced over to the workstation he was referring to. Zenfor’s shoulders were wider than the station itself. It wouldn’t be adequate at all and Tyler knew it. “Is there a problem, Mr. Tyler?”

  “Nope. No problem. Sir.” He had a shit-eating grin plastered all over his face.

  Cas took a deep breath and tried not to let it bother him. The ensign was doing nothing other than pushing his buttons. He knew Cas had no real authority over him, not as a criminal and a civilian, regardless if his warrants had been rescinded or not. Everyone still saw him as the same man who’d been dragged in front of a court-martial and sentenced the very same day seven years ago. And they wouldn’t ever see him as anything else. Not unless he made them. He took one last look at Sesster and Zenfor deep in their mental conversati
on.

  That was it. He was tired of putting this off.

  9

  “I’ve changed my mind,” Cas barged into Greene’s command room.

  Greene barely glanced up, scanning reports in front of him as the stars flew by in a blur behind him. “About?”

  “Admiral Sanghvi’s offer. I want my commission back.”

  Greene arched an eyebrow. “He informed me you might see the light one day.” He set down his datapad. “Why the sudden change of heart?”

  “It will make everything easier. Trying to be a civilian liaison between an alien species and the members of this crew isn’t a walk in the park. I need some authority if I’m to get anything done.” And if I hope to make some real changes.

  “I see. And how do you see your role changing if the Admiral reinstates your rank?”

  “It won’t. But I’ll have the authority to give Zenfor everything she needs without coming to you or Commander Diazal for approval.”

  “Mr. Robeaux, I know you know how a starship works.” Greene sighed. “There are protocols for every person, and there is a chain of command. I can’t just have another Lieutenant Commander on board and expect to squeeze him in. You’d be the fourth-highest ranked person on the ship.”

  “I still wouldn’t be a full member of the crew, think of me as nothing more than an envoy, like Negotiator Laska was. My only responsibility is Consul Zenfor. And I’ll report to Commander Diazal. There’s no need to shift anything around on my account.”

  Greene leaned forward, placed his elbows on his desk, and let out a long breath. “You’re sure about this? With you as a ranking member of the Coalition I’ll expect a certain level of professionalism from you. You remember how it goes, right?”

  “I do…sir.” He managed to add the sir. He’d need to brush up on Coalition procedure in his off-time.

  “Then let’s get on with it. I’m sure the consul needs your help to get started.” He tapped his comm unit connected to his desk. It was silent for a moment before it pinged.