by G J Ogden
“We’ve got thirty minutes before we have to be there,” said Banks. She had also been summoned before the pompous leader of the Earth Defense Fleet, who regrettably also happened to be Sterling’s new commanding officer. “Fancy heading to the wardroom first?”
Sterling shook his head. “Maybe after the meeting. Just seeing Wessel’s name has caused me to lose my appetite.” He smiled at Banks then slapped her gently on her shoulder. “You go, though. I know how important it is to feed your freakish metabolism. The last thing we need is you being ‘hangry’ when we meet the Admiral.”
“I can wait,” replied Banks, much to Sterling’s surprise. “We have to stick together, now more than ever. Besides, F-COP is so sprawling it’ll take us a good fifteen minutes to get to a wardroom or canteen there.”
Sterling sighed then pushed himself out of his chair. “Let’s go and face the music then,” he said, straightening his tunic. Then he fixed Banks with a serious stare. “But do me a favor. If it looks like I’m about to brutally murder Wessel, please stop me.”
Banks rose off the bed, leaving buttock-shaped indentations in the memory-foam mattress. “Are you sure you want me to do that?” she asked, with a wry smile. “We could take him out together then perhaps share a cell at Grimaldi military prison?”
“Sounds romantic,” quipped Sterling.
Sensing that her master was about to leave, Jinx got up, gave herself a little shake, then hopped off the bed. Her metal leg striking the deck sounded like cutlery falling off a meal tray. Sterling scowled at the patch of dog hair that the animal had left behind and grumpily brushed it off his sheets with the back of his hand.
“I don’t suppose you have any snacks in here, though?” Banks said, as Sterling dusted the remaining hairs off his bed. “I’m already bingo fuel so I might not make it, depending on how long Wessel chews our ears for.”
“Bottom drawer, left side,” said Sterling, while en-route to the head to wash the hair off his hands. “I keep a few cinnamon muffins and ration bars in there for emergencies.”
Sterling heard the drawer open and close while he was washing his hands. Then when he stepped out of his compact rest room again, he saw Banks holding three muffins. Two were in her left hand, balanced with the dexterity of a juggler, while the other was already opened in her right hand. Sterling could see that his first officer had already taken a couple of bites from it.
“Do you think you have enough there?” he asked, layering on the sarcasm thickly.
“These will do, for now” said Banks, shrugging. “At least until we can go for breakfast.”
Sterling snorted a laugh, walked over to the door and hit the button to open it. Jinx trotted out first, snaffling up some muffin crumbs on the way, then sat down in the corridor waiting for them.
“You can’t bring that to the meeting, you know?” said Sterling, heading out next and nodding toward the dog.
“She might soften Wessel’s shriveled heart,” Banks hit back, following Sterling out. “And that is a she, as you well know.”
“Well, unless Jinx can get me reassigned back to Admiral Griffin’s command, she can wait on the ship,” said Sterling. He then scowled down at the two other muffins in Banks’ left hand. With lightning quick reflexes, he managed to snatch one out of her grasp.
“Hey!” Banks complained. She’d already nearly finished the first muffin.
“Next to my number twenty-seven meal trays, these are the only things in life that I love,” said Sterling, pulling back the wrapping on the muffin.
This time it was Banks who snorted a response. “You don’t love anything, other than perhaps the cries of a dying enemy.”
Sterling smiled. “There’s nothing sweeter,” he admitted, with a smirk. “Apart from perhaps these muffins. There’s enough sugar in one of these to sweeten even Griffin’s bitter blood.”
You’d better eat it quick then, before it freezes in your icy grip,” Banks replied, huffily. She then whistled to Jinx and shot past Sterling, snatching the muffin back as she went with the speed of a striking cobra.
“Hey, what the hell?” Sterling called over to her.
“You’re sweet enough already,” Banks hit back, smirking at Sterling over her shoulder before picking up the pace and heading along the corridor with Jinx dutifully in tow.
Chapter 2
A lesson in vindictiveness
Admiral Wessel had kept Sterling and Banks waiting outside the meeting room on G-COP for a full fifteen minutes before asking them in. This combined with the fact Sterling was already wound-up tighter than a watch spring had put him in a prickly mood. The sight of Admiral Wessel staring back at him as he approached the meeting table only made matters worse. However, while the senior officer looked as sanctimonious as ever, the older man’s posture was rigid and his expression grave. It was obvious to Sterling from the very first second that their meeting was going to be combative, and while he was at a disadvantage due to his lower rank, Sterling knew much more about combat and being combative than the Admiral did.
“I’ll get straight to the point, Captain, since there’s no point pussy-footing around,” Wessel began, adopting the tone of a vindictive manager who was about to fire an employee. “I don’t like you and I don’t trust you,” he went on, digging his claws in deeper with each word that passed his lips, “and I’m going to get answers, one way or another.”
The Admiral had fired this opening salvo before even inviting Sterling or Banks to sit, though Sterling would have remained standing even if Wessel had offered him a chair. However, rather than further aggravate him, Sterling was impressed with the Admiral’s opening gambit. He’d expected at least some posturing and pontificating before they’d gotten down to brass tacks. The fact that Wessel was clearly in the mood for straight-talking suited Sterling just fine.
“I’ve known for some time that Griffin has been up to something,” Wessel continued, pressing his fingers into a pyramid. “It’s been going on for years. Unexplained reassignments, lost shipments of supplies, items going missing from salvage yards with the records mysteriously being altered to suit the facts…” Sterling noticed that the Admiral had added so much pressure to his fingertips that they were turning white. “And that’s not even counting Griffin’s confidential programs with minimal oversight, funded under the guise of special operations!” Wessel bellowed, suddenly becoming visibly angry.
Sterling stood his ground and remained stony-faced throughout the Admiral’s tirade. He knew Wessel was simply trying to intimidate him and put him on the back foot. However, the truth was that the self-righteous Admiral was even less intimidating than Jinx the beagle hound.
“Forgive me, Admiral, but is there a reason you brought us here?” Sterling said, coolly. He maintained a respectful tone, but deliberately chose the most passive-aggressive response that he believed he could get away with, without crossing the line into insubordination.
Admiral Wessel snorted a laugh then took a deep breath and rested his elbows on the table, leaning forward a faction as he did so.
“Don’t play coy with me, Captain,” Wessel replied, practically spitting the words at him. “I know you understand why you’re here.”
“I’m afraid I don’t, Admiral,” Sterling said, with a breeziness that was worthy of his quirky gen-fourteen AI. “Fleet Admiral Griffin is a woman of few words. Honestly, the Admiral and I converse very infrequently, largely on account of the amount of time we spend in the Void.”
Wessel rocked back in his chair, shaking his head. The Admiral had started out by merely implying a connection between Griffin’s clandestine actions and Sterling’s activities, but Sterling now expected a more direct accusation to follow. Admiral Wessel did not disappoint.
“Very well, Captain, if you’re going to play it like this,” said Wessel. The older man’s jaw was tight as if he was suffering from toothache and baring down against the pain. “Let’s try this another way,” he went on, clenching his hands together even more tightly in front of
him. “I know about the Omega Taskforce. I know that your ship and the Imperium were both part of it. And I know that many of your missions are unsanctioned and, most likely, illegal.”
Wessel paused to allow these bombshells to land, whilst again leaning forward to better scrutinize Sterling’s reaction. Sterling, however, had entered the room expecting such accusations to be leveled at him, and had therefore remained as glacially cool as an iceberg.
“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about, Admiral.”
Wessel’s jaw clamped down even harder, then the Admiral turned to Commander Banks. “And what about you?” Wessel snarled. “What do you have to say for yourself?”
“It’s as the Captain says, Admiral,” Banks said, matching Sterling’s sub-zero level of cool. “I’m afraid I don’t know to what you are referring.”
Wessel again shook his head, then turned back to Sterling. “Whether you admit it or not, Captain Sterling, I know what you’ve done,” the admiral went on, undeterred by the unruffled demeanors of the two officers in front of him. “Griffin’s days are numbered, as are your own, but I’m willing to offer you an opportunity. Do you want to hear it?”
Sterling shrugged. “I can’t believe that any offer can be better than the honor of serving in your special investigation branch, sir,” replied Sterling, sarcastically. Wessel’s eyes narrowed. The man’s jaw was now clenched so tightly Sterling thought the Admiral’s teeth might crack. “But yes, sir, please continue,” he quickly added, deciding he had already pushed his luck to the limit.
“Very well, here’s my offer,” Wessel continued, after finally managing to pry his jaw open again. “I want you to expose the Omega Taskforce and testify against Admiral Griffin.”
Sterling’s eyes widened a fraction. This time the Admiral had dropped an actual bombshell – one that Sterling hadn’t anticipated. The audaciousness of the request almost caused him to laugh out loud, but he just managed to hold on to his nerve.
“I assure you that Griffin’s days are already numbered,” Wessel continued, seemingly buoyed by having finally made an impact on Sterling. “However, if you help me to take her down quickly, I will ensure that you are treated leniently for your part in her scheme. I can’t spare you entirely, but I can promise you a dishonorable discharge and a minimum sentence.” Wessel finally unclasped his hands before opening his palms to the ceiling. “You will be out in a couple of years,” he added, with a brighter tone that suggested to Sterling that Wessel considered this a very generous offer. Sterling, however, did not.
“Admiral, as I’ve already stated for the record, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sterling answered, causing the Admiral’s jaw to clamp shut again. “As such, I am unable to accept your offer.”
“Captain Sterling, I order you to tell me about the Omega Taskforce!” Wessel bellowed. The shout was so powerful that Sterling could feel the Admiral’s musky breath on his face. “This is not a joke, Captain. Lives are at stake. The future of the human race is at risk!”
“I’m not laughing, Admiral,” Sterling replied, dryly, “and I know the dangers better than most. I face them every single day.” He was now struggling to keep a grip on his own emotions, and was intentionally limiting himself to short answers, so that his anger and desire to hit back at the admiral didn’t get the better of him.
“I’m offering you two years compared to a lifetime in Grimaldi,” Wessel hit back. He had snapped and was no longer even attempting to maintain a professional dialogue. “Don’t be a damned fool, man. Griffin is finished, anyway. Don’t let her drag you down too!”
“If that’s the case, Admiral, then you apparently don’t require any additional testimony,” Sterling answered, calmly. “Not that I have anything to offer, as I’ve explained.”
Wessel then turned his attention to Commander Banks, who had so far escaped relatively unscathed. Sterling had been curious as to why the Admiral had requested his first officer’s presence, and it seemed he was about to discover the reason.
“And what about you, Commander Banks?” Wessel said, switching to his alternative plan of attack. “You were only following you captain’s orders,” he pointed a long finger at Sterling, “if you testify then I can protect you. You may even be able to remain in the service. Think about it!”
“I stand by everything Captain Sterling has said, sir,” Banks replied, stiffly. “I have nothing further to add.”
Wessel snorted derisively then glanced back at Sterling. “And you’re happy to drag your crew down with you?” He stood up and practically squared off against Sterling from the opposite side of the desk. “Because if you stay on this course, Captain, I will not only bring down Griffin, but all of your officers and crew too. You will have ruined all of their lives. And for what? Loyalty to a woman who wouldn’t shed a tear if your ship was incinerated in space tomorrow.”
“Admiral, with respect, I have already answered your questions,” Sterling replied, jadedly. Wessel’s doggedness had grown wearisome and he just wanted to leave.
“With respect…” the Admiral laughed, shaking his head again. “Respect indeed,” Wessel muttered. The man then cursed under his breath and peered out of the window of the meeting room, still shaking his head.
Sterling suddenly realized something important; the Admiral’s stubborn refusal to let go of the subject had revealed his hand. There would be no reason for Wessel to offer him a deal if the Admiral already had all the evidence he needed to charge and convict Griffin. Sterling didn’t doubt that Wessel knew about the Omega Taskforce, at least in part. He was also sure that the Admiral had managed to piece together a picture of Griffin’s clandestine activities spanning years, perhaps even decades. However, what he didn’t have was proof - only supposition, backed up by scant evidence. This was why Wessel was trying to turn Griffin’s Omega Captain against his former commanding officer, Sterling realized.
“Just how exactly did you get back from the Void?” Wessel asked, suddenly changing the subject. His tone remained hostile, but his demeanor had changed. He now had the look of a bully, who was lashing out at his quarry out of pure vindictiveness.
“As I detailed in my report, Admiral, it was an unexplained phenomenon,” Sterling replied. He hadn’t expected questions on this line of enquiry and had to react quickly, so as not to appear hesitant or defensive.
“The scanner logs of the ship that intercepted you detected residual surge energy,” Wessel added, fixing Sterling with a determined gaze. The crow’s feet around his eyes were deep and dark. “But there isn’t an aperture in the vicinity of where you arrived. That’s very strange, don’t you think?”
Sterling shrugged again. “Strange would appear to fall under the category of an ‘unexplained phenomenon’, Admiral. So yes, sir, it’s very strange,” he replied.
“Don’t get smart with me, Captain,” Wessel hit back, “you’re walking on a razor’s edge as it is. If it were not for some of your recent actions, I would already have revoked your command and placed you under investigation as a potential aide to the emissaries.”
“You mean my actions saving countless thousands of lives at F-COP and G-COP, sir?” Sterling replied, smoothly. “Actions that earned me and my first-officer the Fleet Medal of Honor?”
Wessel leaned toward Sterling with his palms pressed onto the table. It was a slow and measured move that was intended to intimidate, but failed miserably in that task. To Sterling it just further highlighted the man’s lack of gravitas and authority.
“You think you’re so clever, don’t you, Sterling?” snarled Wessel, glowering at him though the top of his eyes. “But don’t forget that you’re mine now. One little slip up is all I need to strip you of command and throw you in a cell.”
Sterling had bitten his tongue for long enough. He could endure a dressing down; he’d had enough of them during his career. He could even endure threats and insults. Yet for Admiral Vernon Wessel – a man who had wheedled his way up the chain without ev
er seeing significant action – to call him a traitor was too much.
“Thanks to the gutlessness of certain members of the War Council, humanity will be wiped out soon anyway,” Sterling hit back. He now realized that he too was clenching his hands tightly behind his back. “So do what you will, Admiral. It can’t be worse than what you’ve already done, or should I say failed to do.”
Wessel held Sterling’s gaze, hands still planted firmly on the meeting room table. If the two men were physically closer, Sterling imagined that the Admiral might have even tried to reach for his throat. He wished that Wessel would try it, just to give him an excuse to show the Admiral what a true fighter actually looked like.
“I order you to immediately report to A-COP, where you will be attached to the Special Investigations Branch,” Wessel said, the words seeping from his mouth like poison gas. He then rocked back off the table and pressed his hands to the small of his back. “You will be under the command of Commodore Wessel, the head of the SIB. He will give you your first assignment.”
Sterling recoiled from the Admiral. “Commodore?”
Wessel smiled. “Yes, due to the expansion of the SIB, Vernon received a very well-earned promotion. Did you not know that, Captain?”
“No, I didn’t,” Sterling replied, utterly failing to mask the disgust in his voice. “And you’re placing me under his command?”
“That is what I said, Captain,” Wessel hit back. “Unless you need to report to medical to have your ears syringed first?”
“No, Admiral, that won’t be necessary,” replied Sterling, wearily. He’d managed to stop himself from rolling his eyes, however, the flicker of a smile on Wessel’s face suggested that Sterling’s irritation had still come across as clear as daylight.
“Then you are dismissed, Captain Sterling,” Wessel added, planting his short, narrow frame back into the meeting room chair.
Sterling straightened to attention and wasted no time in turning and heading for the door. He managed to catch a glimpse of Commander Banks as he did so, before she also turned. It was only then that he realized that his first-officer’s anger was barely contained. She looked like she was about ready to murder the Admiral.