Spinward Fringe Broadcast 3

by Randolph Lalonde

  “You understand that, but it isn't the way you may ultimately feel. I suggest you let this happen, experience it fully. Maintain the awareness that these aren't your memories but allow them to enrich your life. If you meet anyone who you remember through his experiences look at yourself as a representative of him. Tell these people that you aren't Jonas, that you have his feelings and emotions if that's ultimately where this leads, and go forward as yourself. Don't pretend to be him, but don't be afraid to become more like him. That could happen naturally if the memories continue to surface.”

  Everything he said made sense, and Jake nodded along even though there was a nagging fear. The fear that he would lose himself in the recollections of someone who he barely knew. “I understand. I'll try it.”

  “There were victims of traumatic experiences on Earth. I met several of them while I was on retreat. They had some of the same problems with their own memories. After blocking whole parts of their lives out they became different people and when those memories returned they didn't know how to handle it. You have to be prepared to remember things that changed your predecessor's life, to relive powerful emotions and find someone you trust to talk about them. They'll change you, and so will the way you deal with them.”

  Jake laughed ruefully and shook his head. “You know, I came here to check on the engines, not to be checked on by the Engineer. Thank you Liam, just keep this to yourself.”

  “Only if you keep me up to speed on how you're doing. I'd like to help, I believe I can. Let's just say my reward is living vicariously through you. Your life is much more interesting than my own.”

  “Done. I have to get to the bridge. Thank you for the work you've done down here. Your officers quarters are ready at the rear of the command deck.”

  “Ah, I've already moved into the Chief Engineer's ready quarters down here. Reassign them.”

  “You're sure?”

  “Aye Captain. I'm a minimalist.”

  As Jacob Valance left engineering in one of the main express cars, he couldn't help noticing that things were changing.

  The main lift was crowded. It was a freight lift sandwiched between four other personnel lifts at the main hubs on each deck. It eventually led to three points on each deck except for the Command Deck, where it only reached the center. There were half a dozen mechanics, four soldiers and a few other people behind him. As soon as he had stepped inside the car silence settled over its occupants.

  His thoughts were still turned inward, his conversation with the Chief Engineer had helped far more than he had expected. He felt different, the same things were important; taking care of the crew, going against Regent Galactic, and helping who he could but there was less anger. At the same time he was feeling young for the first time in his entire life.

  He turned towards the doors and nodded. “Good morning,” he said clearly but quietly.

  At various volumes and levels of enthusiasm, everyone in the car replied; “Good morning,” or “Good morning Captain,” and the silence returned. He stared at the doors, not focusing his attention on anyone until they reached the command deck. He walked off the lift with four soldiers and one other person, a civilian from what he could tell in his periphery.

  He caught a glimpse of her out of the corner of his eye and turned to face the woman in the hallway. She was wearing a loose, high necked black dress over a mostly transparent vacsuit. The command and control unit she had chosen for herself from the materializer was made to hang down as a long necklace. At a glance it just looked like a one centimetre wide, four centimetre long piece of silver jewellery, but it had a small interactive holoprojector and split down the center to reveal an interface pad that stretched.

  Mischa smiled at him. “Took you long enough. I was wondering if you'd notice me at all.”

  “I didn't see you behind me, I'm sorry,” Captain Valance apologized quietly, mindful of the crewmen and women passing all around him in the main concourse.

  “I'm getting used to it. Is there somewhere we can talk?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

  “I have an office just off the bridge,” he invited.

  “I've heard of it, your ready room. When I asked where I could find you the soldiers said you'd probably be there. They also tell me you almost never leave the bridge, you even sleep within a stones throw.”

  “Most of the bridge officers do, half the command deck is officers quarters. It's almost as safe as the Botanical Gallery.”

  The main entrance to the bridge opened, and she was very quiet as they made their way through. Alice was near the end of her shift on the bridge, she was splitting the day with Jake, each doing twelve hours. She looked up and smiled at him then grinned a little wider at Mischa who nodded back at her with a reserved smile.

  They arrived at the ready room, and Jake moved to stand behind his desk, taking his coat and scarf off. “What can I do for you?”

  She stood behind the middle chair in front of his desk, resting her hands on the top of its back. “I hear there was a meeting of the Chiefs and I wasn't invited.”

  Captain Valance hung his coat and scarf on a peg by the ladder leading to the ready quarters living space. He had completely forgotten that the civilians had chosen a representative by vote. Instead of sitting down he turned to face her and nodded. “I apologize, you deserved to be there as much as everyone else.”

  “An apology after the fact doesn't change how the decision was made. I heard that you're taking the ship back to the Enreega system on personal business.”

  “Part of it is personal, I'll admit. It's important to note that this could also be the first step in making ties with an ally that could be very helpful to us.”

  Mischa sighed and sat down, crossing her legs and idly kicking her foot back and forth in the air. “Captain, I could do with a few more details. Remember, I need to be informed enough to answer questions from my people, otherwise they'll start going around me. That's something you and your departments don't have time for.”

  Captain Valance couldn't help but be impressed. He'd met hardened criminals with less confidence than this woman. If he intimidated her at all, it didn't show. “I've been reading the logs from the first Captain who ran the proving tour for this ship, and from Wheeler, the most recent Commander. He had loose ties with a large independent space station called Freeground. It turns out he was born there and I have my own loose ties with Freeground as well. They've been independent for at least a century, and could make for the perfect home port.”

  “Why don't we set a course and pay them a visit?”

  “They're about two months away by standard faster than light speed, and we haven't even started work on our wormhole generator.”

  “It would give us time to settle in on the ship. For people to get to know each other and form a community. I'm sure my people wouldn't object.”

  “That would take us too far from the fight. Most of the military and volunteers are here to do some damage to Regent Galactic, even Eden ships, though I'd rather steer clear of the Eden Fleet.”

  “That's something I can agree with,” she said, her eyes widening.

  “But a few days ago I received a communication on the line dedicated to my old ship, the Samson. Since that ship is down I had the priority transmissions forwarded to my personal comm.”

  “And?”

  “It turns out some people from Freeground are going to Enreega under the assumption that it's still a peaceful system and my home port. They also think I'm Jonas Valent.”

  “The man who took a bomb out the airlock with him,” she filled in. It was a growing misconception on the ship that Jonas had disposed of a bomb personally and was caught in the blast, not that he was himself the explosive.

  He let it pass. “He was. Jonas was also a very close relation to myself and Alice.”

  “I understand. Can I see the message?”

  Captain Valance hesitated a moment.

  “If it's too personal, that's all right. I think I've re
ached an understanding of your need to help,” she said sympathetically.

  He brought the message up on the holographic menu hovering above his side of the desk. “You should see it,” Jake said quietly.

  A holographic image of a woman with long dark brown hair sitting in a small, dimly lit craft came up. “This message is intended for Jonas Valent or Jake Valance. I'm Lieutenant Laura Everin of Freeground Special Projects Division. I'm with Major Ayan Rice who was close to you some time ago. I don't know if you remember her, but at one time she was very important to you. By contacting you I'm breaking an unofficial treaty between Freeground and Regent Galactic, so you understand that I don't do this lightly. Ayan, rather Major Rice, is not in good health. Even with the help of our most advanced medical technology she only has a few days left to live. Her dying wish was to see you again in an attempt to remind you of who you are, where you come from.

  Earlier today she slipped into a coma. I could wake her, but her life will be sustained longer if she remains in her current condition. I'm sending this transmission through a high compression microscopic wormhole in the hope that it will reach you before we arrive in the Enreega System. I need you to meet us there, Ayan needs you to meet us there. She doesn't have much time left. I look forward to seeing you again Jonas. It's been too long.”

  The transmission faded out and Mischa looked at him with sympathy.

  “If the Samson were in shape or the Clever Dream were still available I would leave the Triton here so the crew could continue safely training and working on the ship.”

  “I understand. You have to meet them. When will they arrive?”

  “The embedded information in the message notes that they'll be in the Enreega system in just under twenty eight hours. We'll have to be in hyperspace in twenty.”

  “We'll be retrieving them and leaving?”

  “That's the plan. Do I have your support?”

  “I'll tell my people where we're going. They'll be satisfied if I tell them this could lead to a possible alliance. I won't bring up the personal side, Captain. This is something you owe to Jonas, I understand.”

  “Thank you Mischa. I'll make sure to include you in group discussions like this in the future. How are things going in the Botanical Gallery?”

  She smiled at him. “It's starting to look like a home already. Many of your crew have volunteered in their off hours to help clean and plant in trade for services some of us can offer. You should pay us a visit some time.”

  “I will, some time after this rendezvous is all over.”

  She stood and extended her hand. “Thank you for letting me in Captain.”

  He shook it. “Thank you for giving me the opportunity to make it up to you.”

  Mischa flashed him a grin; “Oh, you haven't made it up to me just yet. You still owe me dinner.” She didn't give him a chance to reply but made her way out of his ready room and through the bridge with her head held high.

  Chief Medic Grace Templeton

  Most of her patients were pliant and easy going over the few days the Triton spent in empty space training the crew and getting the ship in order. The soldier sitting on her table undergoing an eye strain treatment was no different. Like many of the crew members, he took his training a little too far.

  He had spent a shift on patrol then entered a series of training simulations lasting hours. Some of them went as far as to simulate conditions on the Triton during hull breeches while aggressive boarders were invading. They were intense, demanding, and caused a great deal of strain if they were over used. Her patient had not only stayed in the simulations for over eight hours, but he followed it up by engaging in an optional simulation. 'Break and Burn Flight,' he'd called it. She'd heard of it before, it was a simulation focusing on flying one of the heavily armed, vastly manoeuvrable Sol Defence Space Superiority Uriel Fighters and it was rumoured that the Captain had entered the simulation as one of the enemy pilots more than once to wipe out the participants.

  Grace smiled as the soldier went on about his simulated experiences on patrol in the Kuiper asteroid belt. It was the Sol system perimeter, and as he mentioned his entire wing getting wiped out she smiled a little wider. She knew it wasn't the Captain flying. Alice and Ashley, who enjoyed simulations as much as anyone else, had started jumping into sims as a duo under the handles Flare and Minx. They took over for what they called 'game pilots' or computer AI's that weren't effected by the Eden virus simply because they were contained within a simulated system. They made much more dangerous opponents, using ambush and misdirection tactics along with quick reflexes.

  She looked up from the soldier's scan results and caught sight of Stephanie with four soldiers behind her. Her hand calmly reached down to the table at her side, picked up a beam scalpel and set it to maximum width and power before touching it to the back of the soldier's neck. “Now don't move an inch sweetie,” Grace said to him with a warm smile. Unaware of what was going on, the younger soldier, no more than twenty she was sure, just smiled back.

  Stephanie walked into medical, eyeing the scalpel, then turned around and left with her soldiers right on her heels. That was unexpected.

  Grace picked up a mild pain suppressant and sprayed it onto the side of the soldier's neck. “All right, now go get eight hours of rack time. If I see you in here again I'll sedate you and keep you for observation.”

  “Yes Ma'am,” he said with a grin as he hopped down from the examination table.

  She looked around the infirmary for a moment and saw a couple people were looking in her direction. They may have known why Stephanie was there, but there was no way to be sure.

  What do I do? She saw what I was prepared to do to get myself out of being taken in and just left. She's probably waiting just around the corner, or getting more men to cover a larger area, increase her options and improve her advantage.

  She walked down the length of the infirmary, passing a few recently cleaned beds and casually exited via an emergency side door. It lead into a narrow hallway that provided easy access to escape crafts and the lifts. As she rounded the corner she heard footsteps and sealed the head piece of her vacsuit for extra protection.

  Grace closed the four meters between her and the corner just in time to see the tip of a rifle. She grabbed it behind the sight and pulled hard, yanking it out of the soldier's hands. The strap that held it to him afforded just enough slack to turn it on him and open fire, pulling the trigger and holding it down for a long burst.

  The first few shots from the pulse rifle were resisted by his vacsuit, but he could only take so many hits to the chest before the heat built up and he started to fall away, limp. Shots rang out and she drew his body around the corner, unclipping the rifle strap. She opened fire just as another soldier came around the bend.

  She fired wildly, scoring hits up his chest and in the head. Grace listened for anyone else after he fell to the floor. The sounds of boots on the deck or people running were absent, so she ran around the corner and on to the lift doors, planting her hand on the control. Nothing happened, the small display of the available paths around the ship used to request and track express cars was darkened, deactivated.

  The sounds of rushing boots from behind filled the hallway. She looked in the other direction and started to walk backwards with her rifle pointed at the sound. As soon as she saw the first soldier Grace opened fire.

  Grace hit her once, but the soldier rolled and came up firing, shooting first her rifle then her arm. Grace threw the damaged weapon at her assailant and ran in the other direction. Soldiers were running towards her from up the hall, trying to cut her off before she could take the next corridor to the left. She rushed them.

  A few of them opened fire on full automatic, filling the air with blue bolts of energy. Grace was struck twice, but in the protection of her vacsuit they didn't affect her at all. Stun shots! I killed two of them and they're still using stun shots, she thought to herself as she ducked into the broader hallway.

 
Grace ran headlong into a maintenance worker, bowling him over and nearly losing her balance. She snatched his sidearm and jammed the barrel into his open mouth cruelly, activating it with a flick of her thumb. Stephanie and several members of her team came around the corner and stopped. “Give me an escape shuttle with a faster than light system or I start killing people!” she called out.

  Stephanie stopped in the middle of the hallway intersection and levelled her disintegration sidearm at her forehead. Grace knew exactly what it could do to someone if it struck a vacsuit too many times, and judging from the lights running up the energy clip, it was set to its maximum setting, on full automatic. “Don't make me do this Grace. We know you're transmitting to Regent Galactic and you'll live as long as you cooperate.”

  “You can't seriously expect me to believe you. Neither you or Valance are known for your mercy.”

  “I give you my word. We'll talk, you'll tell us what information they were interested in, what they got and if there are any others aboard. Then we'll let you go when we get to Enreega.”

  “What is this? Some kind of jealousy play? You and I both know I'm innocent, and if you want Frost you can have him. He's just a bed warmer anyway. I can have my pick of the crew,” she hoped embarrassing the woman, creating the wrong impression for the crew members in the busy hallway behind her would weaken Stephanie's resolve.

  “It has nothing to do with that Grace, now just put the gun down and we'll talk this out. Like I said, we can send you out in a shuttle when we get to Enreega or drop you off at a neutral port.”

  Her stolen sidearm beeped twice, and at a glance she saw the safety had automatically reactivated. Everyone in the hall heard it.

  The maintenance worker knocked her hand aside and quickly crawled away. Grace deactivated the safety again and began to raise her arm.

  “Don't!” Stephanie shouted.

  It was too late, and as Grace almost had the sidearm levelled at Stephanie two shots rang out.