by G J Ogden
Between duty and humanity
Sterling was still staring into the glowing barrels of the destroyer’s plasma cannons when Jana suddenly leapt out in front of him. The colonist thrust her hands skyward and waved to the vessel like a marshaller on an airport runway. The ventral turret beneath the nose of the old destroyer then swiveled and pointed down at Jana. Sterling felt his heart leap in his chest and was ready to bundle the colonist out of the line of fire. However, he reasoned that there had to be a motive for the woman’s curious actions and decided to let it play out. Yet at the back of his mind was the worry that the charred and pulverized remains of Jana would soon be splattered across his face.
“Jana? Is that you?” the voice said over the PA.
“Yes, of course it’s me!” Jana shouted back. “Get down here, already, I have someone you need to meet!”. The colonist waved her hands madly toward the second landing pad on the base, again as if directing traffic.
The turret on the destroyer immediately stood down and Sterling saw the glowing tips of its plasma rail guns fade. The veteran ship soared across the sky before dropping down gracefully onto the landing pad beside the Invictus. It was a skillful maneuver that demonstrated an intimate understanding of the old warship’s capabilities. However, if the captain of the destroyer was indeed Christopher Fletcher, as Sterling suspected, the man’s four decades of experience would explain his exceptional skills.
“It’s okay, this ship is one of the good ones, not like those Marshalls,” said Jana, walking toward the destroyer and indicating to Sterling to follow her.
“Lieutenant Shade, form a perimeter around the ship,” Sterling said to his weapons officer through the still active neural link. “I don’t want what’s left of Masterson and his cronies trying to sneak back up on us.”
“Aye, Captain,” Shade replied. She hustled away, directing the commandoes that had abandoned pursuit of the Marshall due to the Bismarck’s sudden arrival.
“What are the chances that the captain of this ship will also try to kill us?” wondered Banks, walking by Sterling’s side. “We haven’t had much luck with people in the Void so far.”
Sterling huffed a laugh. He couldn’t argue with Banks’ assessment, yet he also had a good feeling about Jana.
“A local advocate could be exactly what we’ve been missing,” Sterling replied, peering up at the Fleet Destroyer Bismarck. It may have been old and battle-scarred, but it was still a handsome ship, he mused.
“Assuming this Jana person actually does vouch for us, and not double-cross us like everyone else,” Banks replied, darkly.
Sterling snorted. “You’re usually the mildly more optimistic one out of the two of us,” he said, glancing over at his first officer. “What happened?”
“The Void happened,” Banks replied, still in a dark mood. “This place sucks the optimism out of you like a black hole devours light.”
“Perhaps, but maybe the universe finally owes us one,” said Sterling, slapping Banks on the back. “Come on, let’s meet our mutinous new friend.”
The old warship’s cargo ramp was already in the process of lowering as Sterling drew near. If the vessel’s external appearance hadn’t already implied its advanced years, the groans and creaks of the gears and hinges did. Hot plumes of steam were then ejected from vents all around the hull, making the vessel appear to be floating on a cloud. A few moments later a man in scuffed Fleet commando armor that had been rendered obsolete decades ago appeared through the haze. He was tall and walked with the confidence of a righteous crusader. The man’s neatly-trimmed full-face silver beard and isolated, turned up moustache only added to his regal sense of authority.
“Jana, glad to see you’re okay,” said the man, nodding and smiling at the colonist.
“Glad to see you’re still looking out for me,” Jana replied, returning a nod and a smile at the warship captain.
The commander of the destroyer then turned to Sterling and studied him attentively, like a father might scrutinize his daughter’s prom date. However, the expression the older man was wearing suggested he was more curious than was suspicious.
“So, who are your new friends?” the man asked. The question had been directed at Jana, though the commander’s eyes remained locked onto Sterling’s.
“This is Captain Sterling and his first officer, Commander Banks,” Jana said. “They’re from Fleet,” the colonist added, making it sound like she’d just uttered a dirty word.
“Yes, I can see that,” replied the man, who was now studying Sterling’s distinctive uniform. “The silver stripe is a new one to me though. Is there now a fifth fleet or are you something special?” The man smiled. “My guess is that you’re the latter.”
“Oh, it’s definitely the latter,” Sterling replied, returning a knowing smile to the commander of the destroyer. “Though it will take a little time to explain why,” he added, mysteriously. Sterling then offered his hand to the man. “I presume that you’re Lieutenant Christopher Fletcher?”
The older man peered down at Sterling’s hand but did not take it. Instead he made a show of slowly folding his arms across his chest, causing his vintage armor to creak and groan like the gears of his ship.
“If you know who I am then you know that I’m no fan of Fleet,” the man replied. “You’ll also know that Fleet are not a fan of me, either.”
Sterling withdrew his hand, but refrained from making a similarly defensive gesture. Instead, he simply pressed his hands together at the small of his back.
“We’re not like the rest of the fleet, Mr. Fletcher,” Sterling said. He had assumed that the man’s earlier response was as close to an admission of his identity as he was going to get.
“Forgive me Captain, but I find that hard to believe,” Fletcher hit back. “Hundreds of Fleet captains have come and gone in the years I’ve been flying around Middle Star and not one has ever extended a hand of friendship, as you just did. So you’ll forgive me for being a tad suspicious.”
For the first time since the man had arrived, there was a more aggressive bite to his words. However, Sterling could see that it wasn’t anger directed at him personally, but at the Fleet as an entity.
“In your position, I’m sure I’d feel the same way,” Sterling replied, truthfully. “If you’d rather we just leave then I’ll be on my way.”
“Give them a chance, Fletch,” Jana cut in. She had been quietly observing the exchange and appeared to be enjoying how the two men were sparring with words. “They opened the vaults and left me way more than they’ve taken. From the stories you and your mother used to tell me about Fleet, that’s not normal.”
“Indeed, it’s not,” said Fletcher, smiling over at the colonist. The man sounded more than a little intrigued by Jana’s revelation. “Has Fleet finally developed a conscience about how they treated those they abandoned in the Void?” he wondered, again locking eyes with Sterling.
“I’m afraid not,” Sterling replied. “In fact, the Sa’Nerra are pushing Fleet further back toward Earth. We’re the only ship out beyond G-sector, and officially we’re not even supposed to be here.”
This seemed to intrigue Fletcher further, though it was clear he was also confused. “So what are you then? Some kind of humanitarian mission?”
Banks laughed, drawing a wrathful glower from Fletcher. Sterling held up a hand to draw the older man’s focus back to him.
“Forgive Commander Banks, she means no disrespect,” Sterling said, glancing across to his first officer.
It was then he noticed that Banks appeared just as defensive and standoffish at Fletcher did. In fact, she looked ready for a fight.
“Isn’t that right, Commander?” Sterling added more insistently in an attempt to prompt Banks into practicing a bit of Fleet diplomacy.
Banks glowered at Sterling then met Fletcher’s eyes. Her powerful arms were still folded across her chest, just as Fletcher’s were.
“I meant no offence, Lieutenant Fletcher,” Banks finally replied, stressing
the older man’s former Fleet rank. “Though I don’t know why you’re so interested in our mission,” she went on, maintaining a passive-aggressive tone. “It seems to me that you stopped caring about Fleet orders a long time ago.”
Sterling turned his attention back to Fletcher. His prickly first officer had failed the test of diplomacy, though he was curious to see how the disgraced former Fleet officer reacted to her accusation.
“It was just the one order in particular that I took issue with, Commander Banks,” Fletcher hit back, giving as good as he got. “I was proud to serve Fleet and my captain, just as I imagine you are,” Fletcher went on, still with his arms folded. “I bled for the cause, lost more friends than I care to count and sent men and women to their deaths, all in support of the war. I had no issue with any of it. I wanted to beat the Sa’Nerra and kick their assess back where they came from, just as you do.” Fletcher then leant in a little closer to Banks, fixing her with even greater intensity. “Make no mistake, Commander, the part of me that hungers for war has never gone away. It never will.”
Sterling could see that the older man’s muscles were tensing up as he spoke. The scuffed armor creaked more loudly as Fletcher hugged his arms tighter around his chest. Sterling imagined that it was all the old warrior could do to stop himself from striking out at Banks. The man’s capacity for self-restraint was fortunate, Sterling told himself. Banks was far less likely to hold back.
“But after all we’d fought and died for, to simply abandon the people of Middle Star to the Sa’Nerra was a crime,” Fletcher went on, the anger now flowing freely through his words. “I stand by what I did, Commander Banks, and I’d do it again, in a heartbeat, despite what it cost me.” The man took a breath, though his eyes did not leave Banks’ for a second. “Pray that you do not ever have to make a choice like I did. Pray that Fleet does not force you to choose between your duty and your humanity.”
Sterling could see that Banks was burning to respond and to hit back with some truths of her own. His first officer glanced across to him, her eyes imploring Sterling for permission to speak. However, he simply shook his head and Banks reluctantly bit her tongue. It wasn’t that Sterling didn’t sympathize with his first officer’s desire to speak up. He too felt like setting the sermonizing old warrior straight and explaining to him just how wrong the man’s condescending assumptions about them had been. However, to do so would have meant revealing the true nature of their mission. And while he admired the former officer, he didn’t yet trust him.
“We’ve all had to make hard choices, Lieutenant,” Banks eventually replied, forcing the words through gritted teeth. “The difference is that the choices that we make affect the outcome of the entire war, not just the lives on a couple of backwater planets a long way from home.”
“These two ‘backwater planets’ are my home, Commander,” Fletcher replied, though he too had reined in his anger. “If I don’t fight for them, no-one will. That’s the truth of it.”
The group fell silent for a moment. Their exchange felt oddly cathartic, despite the requirement for Sterling to remain guarded about his mission. Though he wasn’t ready to trust Fletcher, their chance meeting had only reinforced the feeling in his bones that the older man had a lot of fight left in him. Despite the ignominious manner in which Fletcher was dismissed from Fleet, the man had retained a sense of honor too.
“Well, I’m glad you all got that off your chests,” said Jana, stepping in and breaking the wall of ice that had frosted up between the current and former Fleet officers. “Now how about you military bulldogs stop barking at each other and get along? We have enough enemies as it is.”
Fletcher glanced at Jana then looked at Sterling. Sterling glanced to Banks then back to Fletcher. It was like a Mexican standoff, but instead of waiting to see who would be the first to shoot, it was a case of who backed down first. Fletcher then let out a boisterous laugh, which struck Sterling with such force that he almost fell backwards.
“Trust Jana to act as peacemaker,” Fletcher said, hugging the colonist. “Fine, if Jana likes you then I’ll get off your asses too,” the old soldier went on.
Fletcher’s mood had changed so quickly it was like a switch had been flipped. Sterling quietly observed the interactions between Jana and the commander of the Bismarck for a few seconds. It was clear there was a connection between the two of them. However, he didn’t feel like it was an appropriate time to ask what that connection was and, if he was honest, he had little interest for such matters of small-talk, anyway.
“I haven’t seen a ship like that before,” Fletcher then said, glancing across to the Invictus with admiring eyes. “Then again, I haven’t seen a Fleet ship in Middle Star for many years.”
Sterling smiled. Showing appreciation for the Invictus was an easy way to get into his good graces. It was also a suitable ice breaker. Even a hard-ass like Mercedes Banks could be swayed by someone offering compliments about their ship.
“She’s called the Invictus,” Sterling replied, also admiring his ship. “It’s a Marauder Class Destroyer, just over a year in service.” Next to the boxy and utilitarian design of the generation-one destroyer, the Marauder looked alien and otherworldly. “It was designed for long-range strike missions,” Sterling went on. “It’s compact and lean, but packs the offensive power of a third-generation heavy destroyer. It also has regenerative armor, which essentially repairs itself.”
“You’re on the third-generation now?” said Fletcher, raising an eyebrow. “I’ll bet you haven’t seen an antique like the Bismarck in quite some time then?” He hooked a thumb in the direction of his ship.
Sterling huffed a laugh. “You’d be surprised. It seems that these old gen-ones are the favored mode of transportation for many of the Void Marshalls.”
The mention of the Void Marshalls seemed to stir something inside Fletcher.
“The Marshalls…” Fletcher said, almost spitting out the word. “Those crooks make the lawmen of the Old West look like saints in comparison.” He cocked an eyebrow at Sterling. “I heard Marshall Masterson Junior got killed recently. Word is that a Fleet crew was involved.”
“Masterson got what he deserved,” Sterling replied, though his answer didn’t appear to shock or perturb Fletcher. “But he’s not why we’re out here. Now, I’m afraid we really do have to be on our way.”
Fletcher nodded, respectfully. “Very well, Captain Sterling,” he said, affably. “I’ll inform the rest of my squadron that you’re not a threat. They’ll allow you to pass through Middle Star without any further trouble.” The older man then shrugged. “Well, without any trouble from us, anyway. I can’t vouch for the Marshalls or the Void Pirates, though the latter stay away, knowing that we’re still out here.”
“How many of you are left?” Sterling asked, curious to dig deeper into the status of the other mutineer ships from the Battle of Middle Star.
“All of us,” Fletcher replied, with a palpable sense of pride. “All thirteen ships from the Battle of Middle Star still protect this system, and occasionally others too. We’ve even added a few more to our ranks since then.”
“How many is a few?” Sterling asked, growing even more curious.
Fletcher smiled. “Not enough to match one of your fancy gen-three fleets,” he replied, evasively. “But enough to keep the Sa’Nerra at bay, and that’s all that matters.”
Sterling nodded. He had held back information from Fletcher, so could hardly feel aggrieved that the older man had done so with him. However, there was a piece of information he felt he could reveal and, in doing so, he hoped it might reveal something about the former officer too.
“Between us, Mr. Fletcher, we could use all the ships we can get,” Sterling said, taking a suddenly graver tone. “The war is going badly. The Sa’Nerra have a new weapon. A ship that can potentially destroy an entire COP in one shot, and perhaps even a small moon.” Fletcher’s expression hardened as Sterling spoke, but he did not interrupt and instead listened with
keen interest. “Together with their neural control weapon, the United Governments are contemplating offering terms.”
“What?” Fletcher replied. The man barked the word so harshly that a bystander might have thought Sterling had just insulted the man’s mother. “They can’t be serious?”
Sterling nodded. “I’m afraid so,” he replied, calmly. “We’re out here to try to change things, but the Sa’Nerra have the advantage. The truth is you may not be able to stay out of this war for much longer.”
Fletcher drew in a long, deep breath then let it out slowly. “My war ended a long time ago, Captain,” he replied with a steadier and wiser tone that more closely suited his regal appearance. Then Fletcher offered his hand to Sterling. “But I wish you good fortune in your war.”
Sterling accepted Fletcher’s hand and finally they shook. Fletcher turned to Jana and gave her another brief hug.
“Any chance I can convince you to come with me and get off this old rock?” Fletcher said to the colonist.
Jana shook her head. “My home is here, uncle,” she replied, warmly. “But don’t be a stranger. You know where I am.”
Fletcher nodded then turned to Commander Banks’ and nodded again, though a little more reticently. Sterling’s first officer returned a similarly awkward and guarded gesture. Fletcher then again met Sterling’s eyes.
“Good hunting, Captain,” Fletcher said, offering a lazy salute, which Sterling returned with more practiced professionalism.
The man then turned on his heels and marched back toward his ship. Sterling smiled. Even after all the years that had passed, Fletcher still possessed the unmistakable, regimental gait of someone who had trained and served in the military.
“See you around, Captain and Commander,” Jana said. “Thanks again for the food.”
Sterling and Banks said their goodbyes, then the colonist moved away, leaving the two of them alone, standing between the old Fleet Destroyer and the state-of-the-art Invictus.
“I don’t think that’s the last we’ve seen of Christopher Fletcher,” commented Sterling, as the cargo ramp of the Bismarck began to grind shut.