“You need to sit down and have your wounds seen to, Chief,” Doctor Middleton said calmly as she completed her own procedure. She then cast a hard look at Doctor Cho, who was still fumbling with the second bypass tube, before she moved on to the next patient triaged in front of her.
“I said ‘suction’!” Doctor Cho snapped irritably, and Lu Bu grabbed the portable suction unit from beside the bed—quite certain the Doctor had not, in fact, previously requested suction. But she dutifully inserted the device into the crewwoman’s chest cavity, and after a few seconds the tissues were exposed to where even she could discern the different structures inside the woman’s body.
“Thank you,” he said, his voice fraught with tension as he finally connected the second tube. He flipped the switch on the portable device and gestured to a nearby, vacant bed, “Transfer the patient there and connect the bypass device to the power supply.”
“No,” Doctor Middleton shouted across the room, “do not move that patient, Bu!”
“This is my patient, Doctor Middleton,” Doctor Cho snapped, wiping what few wisps of hair remained on his head away from his eyes.
“No she is not,” Doctor Middleton said adamantly as she continued to work on her latest patient. “As Chief Medical Officer of this ship, I’m relieving you of duty; you spent two minutes to perform a ten second procedure, and that woman will likely suffer neurological deficits due to prolonged anoxia thanks to your incompetence—to say nothing of the other patients you’ve ‘treated’ today.”
“I am Chief Medical Officer,” Doctor Cho retorted hotly as he made to begin working on his next patient.
“Not any more, you’re not,” Doctor Middleton said before looking up over her glasses and locking eyes with Lu Bu. “If he attempts to so much as assess another patient, restrain him; I won’t have him harm another member of this crew—they depend on me, and I’m not going to abandon them,” she said with a knowing look before lowering her eyes and returning her full attention to the task at hand.
Lu Bu felt a surge of excitement as she squared off on the elderly Doctor Cho. “Doctor Cho should return to quarters,” she said evenly while pointing at the door.
The elderly Doctor looked perplexed and genuinely offended, and appeared ready to protest until Lu Bu cracked her knuckles demonstrably while taking a step toward him.
With that, the elderly doctor opted to quit the field, and a few seconds later he had left the sickbay.
“Bu,” Doctor Middleton said in a raised voice, causing the younger woman to turn around wearing the biggest smile she could remember, “I’m could use another pair of hands over here—and we’ll need that thoracic outlet tray.”
Lu Bu did as she was instructed, brushing past a large, Tracto-an medical assistant as she did so and felt a wave of positive energy flow through her veins.
Doctor Middleton is going to stay! she thought gleefully.
“Captain Manning,” Middleton said officiously as soon as the Elysium shuttle’s door had opened and the surprisingly robust-looking man—whose file indicated he was one hundred six years old—descended the ramp with a similarly square-jawed man at his heel.
“Permission to come aboard, Captain?” High Captain Manning asked officiously.
“Permission granted,” Middleton said with a nod, “welcome to the Pride of Prometheus, sir.”
“Sir?” Manning repeated as he made his way across the hangar deck to where Middleton stood, with Sergeant Joneson to one side and Ensign Jardine to the other. Archibald Manning stood less than a meter from Middleton’s face and looked up and down his uniform before chuckling, “I miss the old uniforms; they look good on you, Captain. But none of this ‘sir’ business, eh?”
Middleton shook his head. “MSP protocol, sir,” he said while bracing to attention as a show of respect, with Joneson and Jardine following his lead, “the Multi-Sector Patrol Fleet recognizes locally-granted ranks in all official interactions with its allies. Plus, I’m technically still a Lieutenant Commander operating under a field commission of Captain.”
Manning wagged a finger reprovingly, “I served in the MSP back when this ship of yours was still considered top-of-the-line; I know the regs as well as any man living. You only respect local ranks while on sovereign soil, and only when interacting with your fleet’s constituent members. To my knowledge, as High Captain of Elysium’s SDF, we do not currently contribute any vessels to the Confederation’s MSP—and I think I would know if we had,” he added with a stern look.
“I’m hoping we can alleviate at least one of those unfortunate circumstances today, Captain,” Middleton said as he gestured to the hangar’s main exit.
“Let’s take things one step at a time,” Manning said as he gestured to the tall, broad-shouldered man behind him. “This is my Marine Captain and youngest son, Cooper,” he said before turning with a grim expression on his face. “He was a Sergeant until just a few short days ago, when an…unfortunate incident befell his predecessor.”
“I read you, Captain,” Middleton said with a knowing nod as he turned to Joneson and Jardine respectively, “this is Lancer Sergeant Walter Joneson, and my chief Comm. officer, Ensign Kenneth Jardine.”
Manning’s eyebrows lifted fractionally as a smile crept across his face. “My son was right,” he said, leaning in conspiratorially to add, “I do like your style.”
“Let’s proceed to the conference room?” Middleton suggested.
“By all means,” Archibald Manning agreed, taking the lead as they exited the corridor. A few minutes later, the five men had ridden a lift in complete silence and arrived at the senior officers’ conference room.
When everyone had taken their seats, Captain Manning looked purposefully around the room. “I knew a few planets still serviced these old ships, but I hadn’t expected to set foot on one again.” He gave a curt nod to Middleton, “You’ve done good work with the old bird, Captain. On behalf of my world, and the thousands of people whose lives you’ve safeguarded, I would like to extend our appreciation.”
“Normally I’d politely downplay your display of appreciation,” Middleton said, “but times being what they are, I think we could both use all the friends we can get. Let’s get down to business, shall we?”
Manning nodded approvingly as he withdrew a data crystal from his pocket and slid it across the table to Middleton. “This contains multiple, classified reports concerning events taking place in Elysium these past few weeks which, frankly, I could get court-martialed for sharing with you. The short and sweet version,” he said bitterly as he leaned back in his chair, “is that we’ve been attacked no less than three times by outside interests in what I feel is a concerted effort against our sovereignty. But the politicians back home—Murphy bless their cold, little hearts—can’t bring themselves to use such ‘strong language’.”
“We’ve been tracking pirate activity across a few systems,” Middleton said, “and this latest battle—along with intel gained from recently-captured prisoners—supports the notion of a highly-coordinated effort to seize control over Sectors 23 and 24.”
Manning again nodded approvingly. “Commodore Raubach,” he said scathingly, “and his clan have, indeed, made attempts on every piece of mobile hardware Elysium has. What little communication we can manage with our neighboring systems suggests they’ve experienced a similar, albeit less intense, wave of takeovers resulting in fully a quarter of the military assets in the area being seized or disabled by these pirates.” Manning leaned forward and added in a low, dire tone, “But the truth is, I’m not concerned with Commodore Raubach—he’s little more than a vulture compared to the real threat facing my system.” The High Captain then leaned back and cast deliberate looks toward Sergeant Joneson and Ensign Jardine before silently fixing his steely gaze on Middleton.
Captain Middleton believed he knew the cause of Elysium’s troubles, so he turned to Ensign Jardine. “Would you have Mr. Fei Long come in, please?”
Jardine actually looked
stunned for a moment before standing and nodding, “Yes, sir.” He then left the conference room, and the four remaining men sat in silence for several moments.
“I trust Sergeant Joneson implicitly,” Middleton said with a serious nod to the Lancer Sergeant, “but until now only two members of this ship’s crew have suspected what I believe you’re about to confirm: myself, and a…technician, named Fei Long.”
Captain Manning’s eyebrow arched and he pursed his lips tightly but said nothing as the door opened and Ensign Jardine entered the room, followed by Fei Long.
“Mr. Fei,” Middleton said, gesturing to a seat beside Jardine, “take a seat.”
“Yes, Captain,” he said, and Middleton saw a look of concern come over the High Captain’s face as his eyes fixated on the boy’s tattoo over his right eye.
“Mr. Fei Long was formerly a prisoner of planet Shèhuì Héxié,” he explained, “and though I had reservations of my own regarding his service aboard the Pride of Prometheus, he has proven to be an indispensable member of this crew. In truth,” he added with a nod of acknowledgment toward the young man, “we could never have rigged those ‘decoys’ without his help. Without them, we wouldn’t have survived long enough for your arrival to matter.”
High Captain Manning’s countenance softened and he nodded quickly. “If you vouch for him, I’ll accept that.”
“Good,” Middleton said, turning pointedly to Fei Long. “Mr. Fei, I want you to go to the view-screen and type in the word you once wrote for me in the brig.”
Fei Long hesitated briefly before standing and clasping his hands in what Middleton had come to learn was a sign of deference, or obeisance, depending on the circumstances. “Of course, Captain.”
The young man moved to the console and typed in the six letters before expanding them to fill the screen, and Middleton saw Ensign Jardine’s face go white while Sergeant Joneson, as always, took it in stride—though he, too, lifted his eyebrows for several seconds before his expression returned to its usual, professional mask.
The word Fei Long had written for everyone to see:
Droids.
After all the men in the room had processed the word, Fei Long erased it and began a local memory purge of the system, but Captain Middleton held up a hand haltingly, “There’s no need for that, Mr. Fei. Thank you.”
“Of course, Captain,” Fei Long said as he returned to his seat.
Captain Manning gave his son a look, and the Marine Captain nodded approvingly before the old man shook his head in open wonderment, “Most impressive, Captain Middleton...and more than a little disconcerting.”
“How about you get us up to speed on the situation, Captain Manning?” Middleton urged.
“We should have those Destroyers’ jump drives up in three days,” Captain Archibald Manning IV said from the bottom of his shuttle’s ramp over an hour after arriving on the Pride of Prometheus. “Until then, the Elysium’s Defiance will provide cover for your ship as you prepare to accompany us to our home world. I doubt Raubach is willing to risk going up against my ship at this stage in the game, but the chance to recover two more destroyers is more important that having my three ships orbiting Elysium.”
“Three days it is, Captain,” Middleton agreed.
High Captain Manning took another look around the shuttle hangar and chuckled to himself. “Never thought I’d set foot on a Hammerhead again,” he said in open wonderment as he thrust his hand out. “You’re doing good work here, Captain Middleton.”
Middleton accepted the other man’s hand, which was vice-like and actually made him wonder if the old man had bionics of some kind installed. “Thank you for the briefing, Captain.”
Manning nodded and gestured for his son to board the shuttle, and after a few minutes the vessel’s engines lit and it was ready for takeoff. After it exited the hangar, Middleton turned to his three crewmembers. “We’re calling a senior staff meeting now; gather everyone as quickly as you can. This mission just took an unexpected turn.”
Ensign Jardine and Sergeant Joneson nodded before setting about their tasks, leaving Fei Long standing alone with a nervous expression on his face.
“What is it, Mr. Fei?” Middleton asked, unaccustomed to seeing anything but calm on the boy’s face.
“Captain,” Fei Long began hesitantly, “I do not wish to complicate matters…”
Middleton waited for several seconds before prompting, “Go on.”
Fei Long looked to either side, and when he appeared satisfied he took a step closer and said in a lowered voice, “I believe I can suggest a course of action which will prove…beneficial, not only for our current mission but for all missions which our organization conducts in the future. But I will require the use of a long-range vessel so I may return to my home world, in order to retrieve the necessary assets.”
His eyebrows rose as Middleton said, “You have my attention, Mr. Fei.”
Fei Long gestured to the corridor. “I believe it would be best to conduct this conversation in private, Captain,” he said with feeling.
Middleton nodded and they made their way to his ready room adjoining the bridge. Neither man spoke during the several minute trek until they had reached the ready room.
“So, tell me about this plan of yours,” the Captain urged as he sat down in his chair, and Fei Long did likewise opposite him.
Fei Long looked around warily before apparently resigning himself as he said, “I was indeed unjustly imprisoned, Captain, as I did not commit the crime for which I was punished…but that does not mean I did not plan to commit a crime which, if successful, would have been marked as a truly historic…even balance-of-power shifting point in this region’s history.” He sighed wistfully, “It was to be my masterpiece, but I have long feared my opportunity had disappeared…yet now, for the first time in two years, I believe it may be possible to complete!”
Captain Middleton’s eyebrows lowered thunderously. “Are you suggesting that I enable you to commit some sort of heinous, ‘historic’ crime as a member of my crew?” he demanded, feeling his choler rise at the young man’s impertinence.
Fei Long held up his hands and shook his head, “Captain, you misunderstand. I assure you that the nature of my plan will prove vital, even if it is of a questionable legality—“
“Mr. Fei,” Middleton interrupted, feeling the nerves of the past day threatening to overwhelm his self-control, “you had better have a blasted good reason for suggesting something so brazen.”
“I have spent my entire life” Fei Long explained as his eyes drifted toward the floor, “in pursuit of this, my signature act, Captain Middleton—an act that would echo throughout history long after I am gone and my name is forgotten. I cannot apologize for this private quest because it has become as much a part of who I am as my arms, my legs, or my very skin. It would be, quite literally, my finest moment—and I would consider myself eternally in your debt should you assist me in facilitating it.”
Middleton stood from his chair and leaned forward, with his knuckles pressed to the desk until they turned white. “I’ve shown a great deal of leniency with you, Mr. Fei, in light of your myriad security infractions—and I’m only speaking to those perpetrated here on my ship!” he added hotly. “Your people locked you up and foisted you off on me for a good reason—a reason you still have yet to share with me, I might add. In light of that,” he glowered as he leaned even further over the wispy young man, “give me one good reason why I shouldn’t lock you in the brig for your openly nonconformist, blatantly unrepentant attitude and the threat you therefore pose to my ship?”
The boy’s eyes ceased drifting across the floor when Middleton finished, and his jaw took a hard set as he fixed the Captain with an unblinking, piercing look that likely would have made a younger Tim Middleton flinch. Fei Long then leaned forward fractionally and said in an impossibly matter-of-fact tone, “I can give you the ComStat network.”
Middleton actually had to replay in his mind what the young m
an had said several times before slowly lowering himself into his chair and meeting the boy’s stare unflinchingly. “Mr. Fei,” he said through gritted teeth, “you have my complete and undivided attention.”
Chapter XXXI: A New Plan
“How’s the head, Chief?” Middleton asked after Garibaldi, the last of the senior officers to arrive to the meeting, gingerly sat down in his chair.
The Chief made as if to touch the long, ragged line of reddened, Surgical Heal paste-assisted wound before wincing when his also-wounded arm rose to the level of his shoulder. Forcibly putting his hand down, he shook his head, “It’s fine, Captain.”
Middleton nodded, knowing that Garibaldi’s department had taken the worst losses during the attack. Making repairs to a combat-loaded power grid during live fire was one of the most dangerous assignments on a warship of any kind. But his old friend had surprised him with his initiative and results, and he reminded himself to reward the Engineering department in general, and Garibaldi in specific, as soon as their new mission was completed.
“We’ve been out here for several weeks now,” Middleton began as he swept the assembled officers with his gaze, “and you’ve all performed admirably. I’m proud that we’ve been able to do the things we’ve done; there are over a quarter million settlers safely awaiting evacuation due to your efforts, and though we’ve paid a price, I think we can all agree it was a price well worth paying.”
The looks of determination on the faces of his officers were something he actually had to stop and admire for a few moments, allowing his eyes to linger on Jo for a moment before turning and activating the screen behind himself.
“Until now, we’ve been running around in the dark,” Middleton began as he called up an overlay of the local systems, including Elysium. “We’ve managed to throw a wrench here and there into these pirates’ machinations, but it seems that there’s an even larger threat in these sectors than the pirates we’ve been dealing with. I must remind you all that the topic of this meeting is to be kept strictly confidential for the time being.”
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