by G J Ogden
Then the pings from the approaching torpedoes vanished, along with the space outside, the bridge, the ship, Sterling’s own body, and his entire crew. They were rounding the horn and there was no turning back.
Chapter 29
A very important patient
The long surge through the unstable aperture felt like falling into an abyss with no end. It was a curious paradox that Sterling had slipped between dimensions and essentially no longer existed, yet remained fully cognizant of this fact. Usually, a surge was so quick that there wasn’t time for a person’s mind to contemplate its disembodied state. However, this surge was different. This was truly a step into the unknown.
Suddenly, there was a bright flash of light, but instead of finding himself on the bridge of the Invictus, Sterling was back on the alien space station. A plasma pistol was in his hand and he was aiming it at the head of Commander Mercedes Banks.
“Don’t try to threaten me!” Colicos snarled.
Sterling frowned. He knew that he’d been here before and played out these events already, but for some reason he was compelled to repeat them. It was like he was being controlled.
Have I been turned? Sterling wondered, as Banks stared back at him, her body still paralyzed by the neural weapon Colicos had attached to her implant.
“You came all this way to find me, which means you won’t kill me now,” Colicos snorted, unaware that Sterling was trapped inside his own body – a silent observer of actions he’d already taken. “You can’t outsmart me, Captain, so don’t even try.”
“You’re right, I won’t kill you,” Sterling replied. The words came out of his mouth automatically and he was unable to prevent them. “But I will kill her.”
No, that’s not what I said! Sterling thought as his finger added pressure to the trigger. I didn’t shoot her, I shot you! I blasted your hand off!
Sterling fought against himself, but he was a prisoner in his own mind, unable to intervene.
“Captain, don’t shoot me!” Banks cried, as Sterling continued to squeeze the trigger. “Captain!” she yelled again, but then her cries were silenced by the fizz of the plasma pistol. Moments later, Banks’ headless body slumped to the deck and the smell of her burning flesh flooded his nostrils.
“No!” Sterling yelled, still unable to compel his body to bend to his will.
“Captain!”
Sterling opened his eyes and found himself face down on the deck of the Invictus’ bridge. The voice of Mercedes Banks was ringing in his ears.
“Lucas, are you okay?” said Commander Banks, helping to peel Sterling off the dimpled metal deck plates.
Sterling rocked back onto his knees then pressed his hands to his head, which seemed to be throbbing in synchronization with the pulse of the ship’s reactor.
“What the hell just happened?” Sterling asked, meeting Banks’ eyes. The memory of her headless body and the smell of her singed flesh was still raw in his mind, but he fought the sensations away. However, the sick feeling in his gut remained. “Did we complete the surge?”
Banks lifted Sterling to his feet and helped him back onto the command platform, which was several meters away. At some point, he must have been thrown clear of it, though he had no memory of that, or anything else beyond the point at which they’d surged.
“We made it through, but we’re in rough shape,” Banks said, operating Sterling’s console and bringing up the damage control screen. “Weapons are down and a dozen or more power conduits blew out after we emerged, but Razor is in engineering trying to sort it out.”
Sterling studied the data as best he could, considering that his mind was still cloudy and banging harder than a blacksmith’s hammer. Their engines were online and he could see that they were on-course for an aperture that would lead them to Thrace Colony. He glanced over and saw that Ensign Keller was at his post. However, the young officer was clinging on to the console for dear life, as if it were driftwood that he was using to stay afloat in rough seas.
“How long till we reach the aperture?” Sterling asked.
“A couple of hours at our current speed,” Banks replied. “Less if Razor can get the engines tuned up.”
Sterling nodded and switched the data feed on his console to show a readout of the unstable aperture. There was currently no indication that the Sa’Nerran ships were following them through, but Sterling knew they would. He’d taken their most prized, secret asset and the enemy would want Colicos back. Either that, or they’d simply destroy the Invictus to prevent the scientist from being returned to Fleet custody.
“MAUL and the other ships would have got a good scan of our surge field,” Sterling said, beginning to feel stronger and less queasy. “It will take them some time to re-calibrate their surge generators, but we should assume they’ll come.”
Banks nodded. “How long do you think we have?”
“Twenty, maybe thirty minutes,” Sterling replied, though he was merely guessing. The Sa’Nerra had engineered the apertures and so knew how they operated, but surging through them would still require a modification to their systems. “We know that surging through the unstable aperture kicked MAUL’s ass, so we can safely assume those older cruisers will take a beating too.” Sterling continued, dabbing blood from a cut on the top of his head. “We just have to hope it slows them down enough for us to reach the aperture and surge back into the Fleet side of the Void.”
Sterling’s console chimed, but Lieutenant Shade was quick to provide the update.
“Partial weapons restored, Captain,” said Shade. “The main rail guns are still offline.”
Sterling turned toward his weapons officer, who was the only person on the bridge who didn’t look like they’d been dragged through a carwash backwards.
“What about torpedoes?” Sterling asked.
“I can arm them, but the guidance systems are fried, sir,” Shade replied.
Sterling then had an idea. “Arm them and eject them in our wake, Lieutenant,” Sterling said. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and any ships that come after us will run into them like mines.”
Shade acknowledged the command and soon after Sterling felt a dull thud through the deck as one of the torpedoes was expelled into space.
“Smart call,” said Banks. “The sensors on those old phase ones aren’t so sharp. It’s possible they’ll run into one or two of them on the way.”
Sterling then had another idea, though he suspected his first officer would like it less. “I’m going to launch a beacon through the Thrace Colony aperture, calling for help,” Sterling said, configuring the probe on his console.
“Who the hell would come to the aid of a Fleet warship in the Void?” said Banks. Then Sterling could practically hear the penny drop. Banks glowered at him and thrust her hands onto her hips. “Fletcher? You really think a mutineer will risk his neck for us?”
Sterling shrugged. “He was Fleet once. And I think he still has something to prove, to himself more than to anyone else.”
Banks sighed and shrugged. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I hope you’re right,” she admitted.
The probe raced out ahead and quickly vanished into the darkness. Sterling tracked the signal on his console. It was strong and clear.
“I think it’s time we spoke to our guest,” Sterling said, returning his attention to his first officer. “I want to make sure that asshole is worthy of all this trouble.”
“And if he’s not?” Banks asked, raising a curious eyebrow.
“Then we shove him in an escape pod and jettison him,” Sterling replied, flatly. “Maybe that will be enough to stop the Sa’Nerra coming after us.”
“And if he is worth it and we need to keep him?” Banks wondered.
Sterling huffed a laugh. “Then we’d better pray to whatever god or gods exist out here in alien space that we can outrun MAUL and those cruisers.”
This didn’t appear to be the answer Banks was hoping for, but it was the only one Sterling could give. He was
used to being on the back foot, outnumbered and outgunned, but this time the odds weighed heavily against them.
Sterling glanced back to Lieutenant Shade. “You have the bridge, Lieutenant,” he said, stepping down from the command platform. “If anything comes through that aperture, let me know at once.”
“Aye, Captain,” replied Shade, hustling over to the Captain’s console as Sterling and Banks departed.
Neither of them spoke as the two Omega officers hurried along the short corridor outside the bridge and into the waiting elevator. The sudden absence of other thoughts caused Sterling’s mind to wander back to his nightmare before Banks had roused him on the bridge. More than anything, these episodes were starting to piss him off.
“Thanks for not shooting me, by the way,” Banks said, as the elevator descended.
“What?” Sterling replied, jerking back from Banks. He knew she wasn’t in his thoughts at that moment, though she certainly seemed to be reading his mind.
Banks frowned. “Apologies, Captain. Just a bit of dark humor,” she replied. Sterling’s snappy response appeared to have confused her.
“No, don’t apologize, Mercedes,” Sterling said. He was used to Banks’ dark and often ill-timed quips. However, he wasn’t used to reacting in a knee-jerk fashion, as he had just done, and felt embarrassed because of it.
“Are you okay, Lucas?” Banks asked. “Maybe we should have Graves take a look at your head. You fell pretty hard.”
“Later,” Sterling replied, quick to dismiss the idea.
The elevator stopped and the doors slid open. Banks stepped out first then froze, as if she’d seen a ghost.
“Shit!” Banks cursed, darting off ahead into the corridor.
Sterling followed, though he was less sure-footed than his first officer was, and found Banks a few meters ahead. She was crouched down and Sterling could see that her body was shaking.
“What it is?” said Sterling, moving alongside Banks.
Then he saw the reason for his first officer’s cry. Jinx the Beagle hound was lying on her side panting heavily. Sterling could see a trail of blood smeared along the deck, ending underneath the animal’s patchwork coat. The dog’s front-left leg appeared to be badly broken and the cause of its blood loss.
Banks picked up the injured hound and turned to Sterling. He was about to tell her to leave the animal where it was and explain that they had more important considerations than tending to a wounded pet. However, the expression on his first officer’s face completely disarmed him. It wasn’t a mawkish look, nor did Banks look to be on the verge of tears. Tears were not Mercedes Banks style. He doubted that Omega officers even had tear ducts. However, what was clear was that this particular Omega officer did not want the dog to die. He could see it in her eyes; if she could have given her own body and lifeblood to save the animal, she would have done so right there and then.
“Bring her with us,” Sterling said, resuming his journey toward the med lab. “We’ll see what Graves can do.”
Banks carried Jinx along the corridor and, dripping a trail of blood in her wake, followed Sterling into the med bay. Six of the beds were occupied by injured members of the Invictus’ crew, who were being attended to by the ship’s medics. Sterling saw Commander Graves inside the compact surgical bay. He pushed through the door to find James Colicos on the operating table. Graves was working on the scientist’s injured hand – the one Sterling had blasted off back on the space station. Resting on a tray beside the table was a bionic prosthetic. It was still in a raw format, lacking any artificial flesh or skin covering.
“Is he conscious?” Sterling asked, pointing to Colicos on the table. He couldn’t see the scientist clearly owing to a curtain shielding his face.
“Yes, I’m conscious,” Colicos snapped back, before Graves could reply. “I just don’t like seeing blood, that’s all. I wanted him to put me under, but he said he didn’t have a spare bed for me to recover in.” The scientist’s hostility and complaining was doing nothing to endear the man to Sterling.
“Is he secured?’ Sterling directed the question at Graves.
“Yes, he's strapped me down like a lunatic, if that’s what you mean,” Colicos again interrupted. “It’s degrading, I…”
“Shut your traitorous mouth!” Sterling barked, causing the scientist to stop mid-sentence and fall silent. “I don’t want to hear another damn word from you until I ask you a question.”
Sterling could not see the scientist’s reaction, but Colicos remained silent.
“Commander Graves, give me a moment with the prisoner,” Sterling said to his medical officer. The doctor turned to leave, then saw the injured beagle that Commander Banks was holding in her hands. “See if you can fix the dog while you’re waiting,” Sterling added. Then he again noticed the prosthetic hand on the tray next to the operating table. “Maybe you should test out your skill with prosthetics before you attach that asshole’s hand. If he can’t operate a computer console, we may as well airlock him now.”
“Of course, Captain,” said Graves, appearing oddly amused by the order to attend to the dog before his human patient. Sterling nodded to Banks and she and Commander Graves left the surgical bay.
Sterling waited for them to close the door then stepped closer to Colicos. He could see the man’s feet flinch with each thud of his bootsteps. He tore the curtain away and peered down at the scientist’s startled and petrified face. Colicos looked away, too fearful to meet Sterling’s eyes, but only succeeded in seeing the stump where his left hand would have been. Yelping like a dog who’d had its tail trodden on, Colicos twisted his head to the opposite side and pressed his eyes shut.
“Here’s the deal, doc,” Sterling began, grabbing Colicos by the jaw and turning his head to face him. The scientist forced his eyes open and reluctantly met Sterling’s gaze. “The neural weapon that you so kindly developed for the enemy is causing us to lose the war,” Sterling continued, still gripping Colicos’ chin. “Since the weapon first appeared, the Sa’Nerra have captured almost a hundred Fleet ships and turned them against us. Colonies in the Void have been made to produce munitions and resources for the enemy, the people then taken and forced into labor. Now the Sa’Nerra are pushing toward earth with a super-weapon the purpose of which we have no idea.” Sterling paused and drew his head closer to the scientist. The sweat from his brow dripped into Colicos’ eyes, forcing him to blink away the hot, salty liquid. “You’re going to tell me everything you know,” Sterling went on, his words dripping as heavily as his sweat, “and you’re going to find a way to reverse this neural weapon.” He drew back and released Colicos’ jaw, then continued, “Or I’m going to have Graves perform some little experiments of his own on your body.”
“You think I wanted this?!” Colicos screeched, struggling in vain against the restraints that held him to the surgical table. “What choice did I have? Griffin threw me to the wolves. She cast me out into the Void, and for what?!” The scientist was suddenly raging, though beneath the anger there was still a suffocating blanket of terror. “I was working for Fleet, helping the war effort. If you’re looking for someone to blame, Captain, blame your precious Admiral!”
Sterling sighed and shook his head. He had wondered what the character of this supposed genius would be like. He’d hoped that the Sa’Nerra had perhaps coerced him and broken him down over weeks or months. Perhaps they’d even turned him using his own weapon. However, it seemed that Colicos was just as spinless and weak as he had imagined him to be.
“You had a choice, Doctor Colicos,” Sterling said, toying with the prosthetic hand that Graves had prepared. “You could have fought the Sa’Nerra who took you. Perhaps tried to escape. Maybe even taken your own life.” Sterling dropped the hand back into the tray. It landed with a loud clang, making Colicos jump, as far as his restraints would permit. “But instead, you helped our enemy develop a weapon that is already responsible for the loss of hundreds of thousands of lives. Human lives.”
&nbs
p; “That blood is on Griffin’s hands, not mine!” Colicos hit back, clearly incensed by the accusation of cowardice. “Why should I take my own life? Why should I care about a people that abandoned me, like an unwanted pet!”
Sterling’s attention was caught by a tray of surgical instruments to the side of the operating table. It was typical of Graves to favor the tools of a bygone surgical era, when practitioners sliced into flesh using sharpened steel, instead of lasers. It also fit Sterling’s own notion of his medical officer as a “Jack the Ripper” style persona. Sterling pulled the tray closer and removed an old-fashioned metal scalpel.
“Wait, what are you doing with that?” Colicos said, urgently, pulling his head as far away from the scalpel as possible. “Help!” the man yelled. “Someone, help me!”
Sterling brought the tip of the scalpel toward Colicos, twisting it in his fingers and admiring the way the spotless metal reflected the light.
“No-one on this ship will come to your aid, doc,” Sterling said. “The only reason you’re here is so you can undo the damage you’ve done.”
“It’s impossible,” Colicos answered. “I’ve already tried to reverse the effects of the neural control device. I worked in secret, at night when the Sa’Nerra weren’t watching. But it cannot be done!”
Sterling was already tired of the man’s excuses and protestations of innocence. Leaning in closer, he laid the flat of the scalpel blade on top of Colicos’ Adam’s apple. The scientist froze as if Sterling had just placed a scorpion on his neck.
“I’m telling you the truth!” Colicos pleaded. “In nearly sixty per cent of cases, my subjects died instantly. More than thirty percent who survived were driven mad. The rest were like empty shells, as if I’d sucked the souls from their minds!”
Sterling lifted the blade off the scientist’s neck. For the first time since they’d been talking, Colicos had actually revealed something of worth.
“You said that reversing the effects was impossible,” Sterling said, still toying with the scalpel. “What you’ve just described sounds like your process had potential.”