“Keryn,” Alcent said quietly as he drew his sidearm. “I’m detecting an increase in our ship’s mass compared to when we arrived. If I had to guess, I’d say we have a stowaway.”
Keryn turned sharply, belying Alcent’s caution, and activated the rear compartment’s lights. The sharp halogen lights filled the room with light. In the corner, crouched behind one of the rows of benches, a scared female face peered out. Tears streamed down her face as she shook her head, begging for Keryn’s continued silence.
“Please,” the woman mouthed.
“Ballistae crew,” the control room called. “Is there a problem with your departure?”
Keryn kept her eyes locked with the scared woman’s as she reached over to the microphone. “Negative, Revolution,” she said, still watching their stowaway. “There is no problem. We are exiting the ship now.”
Reaching over slowly, Keryn turned off the lights to the crew compartment, casting the back room into darkness once more. Turning back to the controls, she maneuvered the ship out of the hangar bay and began the short flight back to her own ship.
When they were far enough away from the Revolution, Keryn motioned for Alcent to take control of the ship. She turned the lights back on in the crew cabin and walked back to talk to the stowaway. As she left the helm, Keryn quietly closed the door behind her. Whatever was to come from her next conversation, she didn’t want Alcent hearing.
Keryn sat down on the couch beside which the frightened woman hid. Patting the seat beside her, Keryn invited the woman to join her. Slowly, obviously fearing for her own well being, the woman took the seat, though she kept her tear-filled eyes focused on the ground.
“Would you like to tell me what you’re doing on my ship, Iana?” Keryn asked as the Warrant shook with sobs.
Stifling her tears, Iana managed enough composure to reply. “I had to run away. He was going to kill me!”
“Who was going to kill you?” Keryn asked, suddenly interested in her story.
Iana met Keryn’s gaze only briefly before dropping her eyes once more and shaking her head. “You wouldn’t believe me, even if I did tell you,” Iana whispered.
Keryn placed a hand on Iana’s arm. “I think you’ll find that I’m willing to believe just about anything. Now, tell me who is trying to kill you.”
“Captain Xiao,” Iana mumbled to herself. “Yen is trying to kill me.”
Her answer hit Keryn like a heavy weight in her chest. Her concerns about Yen’s behavior earlier seemed to pale in comparison with Iana’s accusation. Yen had tried to invade Keryn’s thoughts, but she wondered if he was truly capable of murder, especially murdering one of his close friends. In the end, she shook her head.
“I can’t believe that Yen would try to kill you, Iana. He actually considers you one of his closest friends.” Keryn leaned back heavily against the couch and thought again about Yen killing Iana. She just couldn’t fathom him committing that act. “You’re trying to convince me that the Commander of the Fleet is trying to kill one of his pilots?”
“You don’t understand! He already has killed one of his pilots!” Sobs overtook Iana again. Through her tears, Keryn heard her say, “I knew you wouldn’t believe me.”
Keryn didn’t know how to respond to Iana’s tears. As the Warrant continued her fits of crying, Keryn grew uncomfortable and eventually got up to leave. As she pushed herself away from the chair, Iana’s hand shot out and affixed upon Keryn’s arm in a death grip. Keryn looked down, surprised both at Iana’s strength and the strong look in her eyes.
“Promise me,” Iana said, her voice still thick with emotion. “Even if you won’t believe me, promise me that you’ll grant me amnesty on board you ship.” As Keryn tried to pull away, Iana tightened her grip until her nails were digging into Keryn’s forearm. “Promise me!”
“Fine,” Keryn exclaimed as she pulled her arm free. “I will grant you amnesty on board the Ballistae.”
As she walked away, Keryn kept a watch on her emotionally unstable friend. Entering the helm once again, she closed the door behind her, separating herself from Iana. Alcent noticed her troubled expression as he wove between the other Cruisers of the Fleet.
“Would you like to tell me about our newest passenger?” Alcent finally asked, unable to handle the silence.
“She’s an old friend,” Keryn explained while trying to give away as little as possible of her story. Somehow, Keryn didn’t think Alcent was the right man to tell dangerous accusations. “We’re granting her amnesty on our ship.”
“Any particular reason?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” she responded, letting the subject drop.
As soon as they made dock with the Ballistae, they disembarked from their Terran ship and left the hangar bay. Adam met them in the hallway, having obviously rushed from the bridge to reach them before they left the area. He pulled up short, however, when he saw the shaking Pilgrim standing next to Keryn. Keryn shook her head, stopping any probing questions before they could be asked.
“Adam,” she began, “this is Iana Morven, an old friend of mine from the Academy. I need you to take her to one of the living quarters near ours and let her get some rest.”
Iana raised her face, looking back and forth between the two lovers as Adam gently led her away. As soon as they were out of earshot, Keryn activated her internal radio and called up to the control room.
“Wyck, this is Keryn.”
“Captain, my Captain,” Wyck responded. “It’s good to have you back.”
Keryn shook her head. She still wasn’t used to the new title. “Cut the crap, Wyck,” she replied. “I hope you have some good news for me about the Deplitoxide research.”
“It’s…” he paused just long enough that Keryn realized the news would not be good. “It’s coming along. Tora and I have actually made quite a few discoveries during our research together.”
“How many of those ‘discoveries’ are directly tied to the study of Avalon anatomy?” Keryn asked. She would have never believed that she could hear someone blush over the radio, but Wyck proved her wrong as he began to stammer a response. Keryn was quick to cut him off and end his torturous reply. “Wyck, I don’t care about that. However, I did just tell an entire room full of pompous Captains that we were going to continue the Deplitoxide research because I have some of the most talented scientists in the entire Alliance onboard. Don’t prove me wrong.”
“No, ma’am,” Wyck stuttered. “Absolutely not.”
“I believe you,” she replied sweetly. “I just need you to stay focused on our mission right now. Love will always wait for you. If you make a remarkable breakthrough in your research, feel free to wake me up. Otherwise, I’m going to be sleeping off a painful meeting.”
“Wait!” Wyck yelled into the radio, stopping her before she was able to sign off. “I almost forgot. You have a message from High Council waiting for you on your bedroom console. I forwarded it there, since I didn’t figure you wanted everyone knowing your business.”
Keryn paused, perplexed. “You did the right thing, Wyck. Any idea what they want?”
“I’m a hacker, Keryn,” he replied. “But even I know when I need to mind my own damn business.”
Keryn smiled, proud of her computer genius. “Thanks, Wyck. If it’s important, I promise to tell you all about it.”
“That’s the other reason I didn’t check it,” he answered. “You haven’t let me down yet.”
“Now get back to work on your research,” Keryn said. “I’m heading to my room.”
Keryn tried to make assumptions about what the High Council would have to say to her personally. All she could imagine was that they were sending personal congratulations for her successful mission. Still, it seemed like overkill from an organization as influential as High Council. Without realizing it, Keryn increased her pace, eager to reach her quarters. Entering her access code, Keryn slipped inside the room and activated the lights. Adam hadn’t returned yet,
but that didn’t surprise her. Aside from taking care of Iana, Adam was on duty on the bridge right now. For a moment, she pondered waiting for him to return before listening to the message, but curiosity got the better of her.
Sitting down in front of her console, Keryn saw the small red light blinking, telling her that a video message waited for her. Activating the screen, the symbol of the High Council emerged from the black monitor. Slowly, the screen dissolved into a picture of six wizened faces sitting around a semi-circular table. Sitting at the head of the table, an elderly Wyndgaart man began speaking.
“Magistrate Riddell,” he began, his voice coarse from age. “We would like to extend our sincerest appreciations for completing your mission and retrieving the Deplitoxide. Your mission was fraught with danger and losses, both personal and professional. For that, we are truly sorry.”
Keryn paused the video, immediately stunned by the fact that the High Council was already aware of her success so quickly after her reunion with the Fleet. She returned to a question that had been asked many times during her tenure in the Fleet: where was the elusive High Council actually located? Was it possible they were actually traveling incognito amongst the Fleet ships even now? Or did they have access to faster-than-light communications technology that allowed near instantaneous reports to flood in from throughout Alliance space? Pushing such questions aside, Keryn continued the video.
“I wish that our message for you was only full of congratulatory praise for your mission completion, but that simply isn’t the case. Instead, we have a new urgent mission for you and you alone. Do not include anyone else on your crew or within the ranks of the Fleet for this mission. This mission is being shared with you with the utmost secrecy.”
The Oterian Councilmember spoke next. “A few weeks ago, we received a direct communication from Captain Hodge, formerly the Commander of the Fleet. Captain Hodge was acting as an agent of the High Council, reporting ship movements and battle tactics to the High Council for our review and recommendations. Such practices are hardly unheard of amongst the Commanders of the Fleet. Though we were not expecting a communication from her when her message arrived, we were even more surprised by its content. Her message was full of fear and concern for not only her own well-being, but that of the entire Fleet. In her own words, there was a madman loose amongst the Officers of the Fleet committing atrocities, going as far as accusing this madman of murder. As you may or may not be aware, a Magistrate on board the Revolution was arrested for murdering a superior officer and confined to the brig. We believed that with this traitor in custody, Captain Hodge’s concerns would be laid to rest. Unfortunately, Captain Hodge was killed in the recent conflict, leaving Captain Xiao to assume the mantle of Commander of the Fleet.”
Picking up where the Oterian left off, the gravelly voice of the Lithid Councilmember chimed in. “That is where our involvement in this communication began. You see, the last part of the report from Captain Hodge involved her begging for our involvement should something fatal happen to her. She knew that there was a chance she would be killed, murdered by this madman on board her own ship. To assure retribution, Captain Hodge named the man she thought ultimately responsible for the death of Eminent Merric and, should she die, the perpetrator of her own death. The man she named surprised us, especially when we found out that he was now her successor.”
Keryn’s heart pounded in her chest as she realized what the Oterian meant. The Avalon Councilmember added the final punctuation, the name of which Keryn already guessed. “Captain Hodge named her murderer as none other than Captain Xiao, her second in command. We have attached the video report from Captain Hodge for your review. Once it is complete, we will explain the mission which we want you to undertake.”
The screen changed, the council room disappearing and being replaced by a pale Avalon face. Keryn recognized Captain Hodge immediately, though her face was more drawn and worried than Keryn remembered. The Captain looked like she had aged decades in the short time they were apart. Her face was shrouded by shadows, the only light in the room being reflected from the screen itself. As the picture finished its transformation, it began automatically playing. A singing Avalon voice filled her room as she watched.
“This is communication number seventy-two between the Commander of the Fleet and High Council. This communication is being sent at an irregular interval, the contents of which have been heavily coded to ensure that its message is for the Councilmembers’ eyes only.
“As reported previously, my second in command, Eminent Merric, was murdered. His body was disposed of in the exhaust vent of the plasma engines, leaving little biological evidence that he had been murdered at all. We have arrested Magistrate Vangore, my former Communications Officer, for the murder, based on evidence collected and from his own confession under duress from the Crown.”
Captain Hodge paused, searching for the words. “There is no other way to state it other than telling the truth: I don’t believe he’s guilty. I believe Magistrate Vangore was framed for the murder. I know that one of your questions will pertain to proof of my assumption. I have none. There is no definitive evidence that Vangore did not commit this atrocious crime. In fact, all the evidence, including now a confession, leads us to believe that he is incredibly guilty of the accused crime.
“My only evidence on the contrary will never hold up in Alliance court. My sense that he isn’t guilty came from the look in his eyes. I don’t mean Vangore’s eyes. I mean Squadron Commander Xiao’s eyes. I have spoken with Yen Xiao multiple times since the murder was committed. It was his clue that led us to Vangore in the first place. However, I couldn’t ignore the fact that during every one of our conversations following the murder, something gleamed in Yen’s eyes. I think he was enjoying himself. It sounds paltry, placing so much faith in the look of someone’s eyes, but there was a homicidal bliss in his look when he would discuss how he thought Vangore committed the murder. He seemed to me like a puppeteer telling his fairy tale while pulling the strings of his marionette. I can’t help but feel that Vangore was that puppet, having his strings pulled.”
Captain Hodge leaned back heavily in her chair and let out a sigh. “I can’t prove it. If you’re watching this, you already know that’s true. But I want you to think about what I’m about to tell you. Yen Xiao is a psychic of incredible power. He keeps himself as reserved as possible so that others can’t tell the extent of his abilities. But I’ve read the reports from Earth. I know that he made a Terran guard shoot himself in the face with his own pistol with no more than a psychic suggestion. He dropped the Washington Monument, a massive landmark millennia old, on top of an adversary. He lost control of his powers and destroyed half his own team while trying to stop the Terran scientist. He is powerful, insanely so. Maybe that isn’t the best choice of words… or maybe it’s the perfect choice of words. Power corrupts and having the ability to alter men’s minds with a simple thought could easily lead to thoughts of God-hood. And if he was guilty, if he truly did commit the murder of Merric and framed Vangore for the crime, how do you prove that a psychic made someone confess to a crime they didn’t commit?”
The Captain rubbed her temples as though suffering from a terrible headache. Keryn was prone to believe that, having suffered under the mantle of command with such events transpiring, Captain Hodge very possible no longer remembered what life was like without a headache.
“I’m rambling now, but it’s hard to keep your thoughts in order when you’re constantly questioning if they truly are your own thoughts. If he could make a man confess to a crime while under the influence of the Crown, what else has he done? How many other people on board this ship have done things against their will because he was toying with our emotions? I’m suddenly second guessing every crime and accusation made on board, wondering if he had an influence on the outcome of the events. Gods, I even fear for my life. He can read peoples’ minds. If he even began to believe that I thought him guilty, I have no doubt that I would suffer a su
dden and severe ‘accident’.”
Captain Hodge suddenly glanced away from the screen. Glancing down quickly, she added, “I will continue this message momentarily.” She looked up and called, “Please, Yen. Please come in,” as she turned off the recording. Less than a second later, the video restarted.
“He was just here. As I stated before we were interrupted, I am concerned about all our safety. I think he’s still oblivious, but I have no way to hide my thoughts from him. If anyone on board does anything to rouse his suspicion, I think we’ll be his next victims. Maybe I’m just paranoid, but I don’t believe so. Neither does Horace, my Security Officer.
“I tell you all this because I don’t think I’ll survive the war with the Terran Fleet. Should something happen to me, I want you to know that it wasn’t an accident. No matter how preposterous that may appear when you hear of how I died, realize that he had a hand in it. More than anything, I want to know that my death wasn’t in vain and that he will be prevented from do the same to other Officers, Warrants, or Crewmen in this Fleet.”
Captain Hodge took a deep breath and brushed the hair out of her face. “This concludes this correspondence with the High Council. Captain Hodge, signing off.”
Keryn felt the tears streaming down her cheek. She didn’t want to believe it was true, that Yen could truly be that savage, yet she couldn’t deny Captain Hodge’s words. As Keryn’s emotions continued to storm inside her, the image of the Captain disappeared and the High Council returned. Though it was only a recording, Keryn could feel their intense stares judging her as she cried quietly alone in her room.
It was the Uligart Councilmember who spoke next. “I believe that, after watching that correspondence with Captain Hodge, the last one we received before her death, that you can imagine our interest in this situation. We have discussed this issue for the past few hours, which is a great length of time for men as old as we are. We have come to the following conclusion: we believe that Captain Hodge’s concerns were valid. It is the only way we can account for the Captain, Horace, and Vangore all dying in a single attack on the Revolution. If Captain Xiao truly did commit the murders of three more Officers of the Fleet in an attempt to cover his first murder, than he is growing careless. A careless man with deadly power is apt to continue using that power for ill gains. We don’t believe that he has stopped committing murders. In fact, he may very well be choosing his next target as we speak.”
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