by Ryk Brown
Nathan thought for a moment, all of the best tactics that he had discussed with Jessica running through his mind one more time. He pulled his data pad from his thigh pocket and thumbed the power button, the screen instantly coming to life. He glanced at the screen just long enough to see that it was still displaying the last thing he had viewed on it. “I was wondering if I might ask you a question.”
“Of course.”
Nathan tossed the data pad unceremoniously onto the bed next to Mister Percival. “Why is the man in this video log file addressing you as Captain Dubnyk?”
“Well, that’s a different approach,” Jessica’s voice whispered into Nathan’s ear over his barely audible comm-set. “Don’t believe we discussed that one.”
Mister Percival picked up the data pad, his eyes still locked onto Nathan’s. His expression had changed, as had the look in his eyes. He pressed the play button and listened to the video log for several seconds before pausing it again. “I guess you already know the answer to that question, Captain. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”
“So, are you Dubnyk, or are you Percival?”
The old man cocked his head to one side, his eyes gazing upward for a moment as he considered the captain’s question. “I would say that I am more Dubnyk than I am Percival.”
“His name probably isn’t Dubnyk either,” Jessica whispered over the comm-set.
“So you’re not Dubnyk, either,” Nathan said. “Then what’s your real name?”
“I’m a man born a thousand years ago, Captain. Does my real name matter all that much?”
“No, I suppose it doesn’t. We’d have no way to verify it one way or the other,” Nathan admitted, remembering that Jessica had pointed that out to him in an earlier conversation. “However, who you are, as in what kind of man you are, does matter. At least, it does to me.”
“An honest man’s word is worth more than a liar’s money,” the old man answered, obviously quoting something he had heard before.
“Something like that.” Nathan leaned forward, his forearms resting on his knees as he stared into the old man’s eyes. “Who are you?”
The old man stared right back, unflinching in his gaze. “For all intents and purposes, I am Captain Alan Dubnyk, owner and captain of the interstellar cargo ship, Jasper.” The old man bowed his head a little as he held his hand out slightly to his sides, palms up, as if to say at your service.
“All right,” Nathan said, sitting up straight again. “For the purpose of this discussion, let’s say you are Captain Dubnyk. Why were you pretending to be Mister Percival?”
“And why were you in his stasis pod?” Jessica whispered over Nathan’s comm-set.
Nathan was shaken for a split second. He had almost forgotten that Jessica was listening in on the conversation. “And why were you in his stasis pod?”
Captain Dubnyk’s eyes narrowed slightly, examining his interrogator. “The colony had died due to no fault of my crew or me, victims of a string of unfortunate events. I had insufficient resources to leave orbit and no way to get down to the surface, which was frozen solid by then, in any case. My only hope of survival was my emergency beacon and that dying old man’s souped-up, medical stasis pod.”
“What did you hope to accomplish?” Nathan wondered.
“I was trying to live, Captain,” Captain Dubnyk insisted. “I figured another ship full of evacuees would pick up our beacon and respond. Even if they didn’t, sooner or later, one of the fringe planets would recover and start sending ships out once more. Maybe by then they would have detected our beacon and sent someone out to rescue us.”
“Quite the long shot,” Nathan commented unemotionally.
“True enough, but I had no other options.”
“So you killed a helpless, unconscious, old man and took his place in his stasis pod.”
Captain Dubnyk shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “I had three hundred colonists still on board, Captain. Most of their pods were still working, and might have continued to do so for some time, but only if someone maintained them. The crew’s pods were in substandard condition at best. The odds of long-term survival in any one of those pods was laughable. Yes, I killed our benefactor, but I did so to try to save the lives of three hundred people, healthy people. Young and well, with long and prosperous lives ahead of them. There were even some children, Captain. Would you prefer that I had killed one of them instead? I mean, what use would the children have been in that situation?”
“Damn,” Jessica whispered over Nathan’s comm-set. “I didn’t see that coming.”
“When did you do this?” Nathan asked, trying not to miss a beat, or show any emotional reaction to Captain Dubnyk’s defensive pleas.
“When?”
“When.”
“That put him on the ropes,” Jessica whispered over the comm-set.
“Once I was sure that everyone on the surface was dead and that I had no other choice.”
“How many years after you made orbit?” Nathan said, clarifying his question.
“About two hundred, I believe,” Captain Dubnyk answered. “I did not simply kill him, Captain. He was still alive when I placed him into my stasis pod and activated it. He had as much chance as anyone else.”
“Anyone else except you,” Nathan commented.
“The safety and survival of those colonists were my responsibility,” Dubnyk insisted.
“As was the life of Mister Percival, your benefactor,” Nathan reminded him.
“I am not proud of what I did, Captain,” Captain Dubnyk said, “but I stand by my decision.”
“This guy is good,” Jessica whispered.
“I’m sure you do, Captain,” Nathan said, ignoring Jessica’s comment over his comm-set.
Captain Dubnyk sat up straight and crossed his arms, appearing indignant. “Who are you to judge me, Captain?”
“No one is judging you, Captain Dubnyk, least of all me.”
Captain Dubnyk pointed an accusatory finger Nathan’s way. “You’ve made decisions that have cost lives, Captain Scott—or should I say, Na-Tan? I’ve heard your crew talking in the mess about your adventures in the Pentaurus cluster. When exactly did the Earth fall to your enemy, Captain? While you were playing the role of a legend back on Corinair?”
“He’s trying to rattle you, Nathan,” Jessica whispered in his ear over Nathan comm-set. “Don’t let him.”
“Captain Dubnyk,” Nathan began calmly as he sat back in his chair. “I have no idea if your actions constitute a crime or simply a desperate act by the captain of a doomed mission. Either way, I suspect that the act occurred out of the jurisdiction of any government in place at the time. Even if it had, none of those governments are still around to press charges. In addition, there doesn’t appear to be any government around to do so now. It seems that, while time may have slowly drained the years from your life, it has also provided for the absolution of your sins. Now, as captain of this ship, I have the authority to investigate this matter and take appropriate actions as I see fit. However, I have other, far more pressing concerns with which to deal, and I cannot afford the distraction.”
“What is it you intend to do with me?” Captain Dubnyk demanded.
“Nothing,” Nathan stated, “for now. I doubt very seriously that a nice, safe world to set you off on will present itself anytime in the near future. In the meantime, your movements about this ship will be restricted and monitored.” Nathan pulled a small wrist device out of his pocket and tossed it at the old man. “You are to wear this monitoring device on your wrist at all times. You are restricted to your quarters, the head, the galley, and medical.”
“You’re imprisoning me?”
“No, but I can if you’d like,” Nathan told him sternly. “We do have a brig on board.”
“Captain, this is unfair…”
“On the contrary, Captain Dubnyk, if that is your real name. I’m being quite fair. I’m the captain of a ship at war. According to Fleet regs, I have the power to do a lot more than I am, so consider yourself lucky.”
Captain Dubnyk sat, staring at Captain Scott, studying him. Finally, his expression softened, revealing his acceptance of his situation. “I am a feeble, old man, as you have so graciously pointed out. I am thankful that you rescued me, and I regret that I am the only one that survived more than you will ever know.” Captain Dubnyk took a breath and let it out slowly. “I will not cause you any trouble, Captain.”
Nathan rose and straightened his uniform. “Thank you, Captain Dubnyk,” Nathan stated.
“Please, Captain Scott, drop the title. It is no longer appropriate. I am Alan or Mister Dubnyk.”
“As you wish,” Nathan agreed as he stepped toward the door. He stopped and turned around. “If time permits, we may talk about this further.”
“If you desire, Captain. You know where to find me.”
“Good night, Mister Dubnyk.” Nathan opened the door and stepped into the corridor, closing it behind him.
“Damn, Skipper,” Jessica said over Nathan’s comm-set. “I didn’t know you had that in you.”
“Neither did I,” Nathan said as he headed down the corridor.
“What do we do now?” Jessica asked.
“You go back to work,” Nathan ordered. “I’m going to bed.” He tapped his comm-set and closed the channel. As he continued down the corridor, he pulled the packet of med-tabs out of his pocket, opened it, and dumped one of the tiny, flat tablets into his palm. He then popped it into his mouth. It had been a long day, and one way or another, he was going to get some sleep.
* * *
“Jump complete,” Mister Riley reported.
“Verifying position,” Lieutenant Yosef announced. “Position verified. Seventeen point five light months from Sol. That also puts us four point three light months from the location where we first jumped to nearly four and a half months ago.”
“Where the Jung ambushed us,” Nathan added.
“Yes, sir.”
“And you can calculate it that closely?” Nathan asked in astonishment.
“Actually, sir, the ship’s systems keep a running calculation of Earth time as we travel based on our speed and length of time at said speed. It’s a really complex system that’s fascinating once you understand it.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” Nathan interrupted. “Begin scans.”
“Aye, sir, beginning scans,” Lieutenant Yosef answered.
“Scan ahead to the recon point, Mister Navashee,” Nathan said. “And be sure to scan the area around the point as well. Make the radius equal to our current distance from the recon point. I don’t want any surprise guests, not this time.”
“Yes, sir,” Mister Navashee reported from the port auxiliary station.
“That’s no guarantee that there won’t be anyone there waiting for us,” Cameron reminded him.
“I’m well aware of that fact, Commander,” Nathan said. Cameron had argued against trusting the message ever since she had learned of it, and like a good XO, she was making sure her captain was aware of her objections.
“They could be parked anywhere along that line, waiting for us. From this distance…”
“I know,” Nathan interrupted. His stern tone was enough. Cameron got his message and ceased her tactful objections.
“I’ve got a visual fix on one of the Jung gunboats, Captain,” Lieutenant Yosef reported excitedly, “the one that originally ambushed us when we finished our first test jump.”
“Put it on the main view screen,” Nathan ordered. A moment later, a small dark gray ship appeared on the screen. “I can barely see it,” Nathan stated as he squinted his eyes.
“We’re on the opposite side from this angle,” the lieutenant said. “We’re seeing its unlit side.”
“Can you zoom in?”
“Yes, sir, but I’m keeping a wide field in the hope of catching us as we come out of our first test jump.”
“This is strange,” Nathan mumbled.
“Creepy is a better word,” Jessica added. Abby stepped up next to her, having entered the bridge a moment ago. “Doctor,” Jessica greeted.
Nathan turned and looked at her, surprised to see her, as she had not been on the bridge in some time.
“I’m sorry, Captain,” Abby apologized. “I just had to see.”
“That’s quite all right, Abby,” Nathan assured her as he turned back toward the screen.
“There,” Mister Chiles announced, pointing to the lower left corner of the screen as they observed the flash of the Aurora’s first test jump from the orbit of Jupiter out into the very position in the Oort they were observing.
Abby gasped, her hands going to her mouth.
Nathan knew that Abby was not seeing the Aurora, but rather her father, the inventor of the jump drive, who had died on board the Aurora shortly after that first jump. On the Aurora she was seeing on the view screen, he was still alive and well, standing by her side at the jump console. She turned her head and looked at the starboard auxiliary console near the aft portion of the bridge that had once served as the jump control station, expecting to see her long-lost father standing there and beaming with pride at the first successful demonstration of his device.
Nathan watched as her face saddened. “Zoom in on us… I mean them… I mean, the Aurora. You know what I mean.”
“Aye, sir,” Lieutenant Yosef said. “Zooming in on the old Aurora.”
“Thank you.” Nathan turned back to Abby. “Are you all right, Doctor?”
Abby nodded, her hands still covering her mouth, her eyes tearing as the image of the Aurora from four months ago suddenly filled the screen.
“This really is creepy,” Cameron repeated.
“Yeah, it is,” Nathan agreed, his eyes transfixed as he watched his ship suddenly maneuver toward the first Jung ship.
“They see the first gunboat,” Cameron said. “God, Nathan, I can remember sitting in the navigator’s chair and passing you the intercept course like it all happened yesterday.”
“I can remember executing the turn and throttling up. Captain Roberts liked to close on his targets quickly. He said the ship was designed for such maneuvers. I remember that from our sim training.”
“She’s firing torpedoes,” Cameron said.
They watched for nearly twenty minutes as the four and half month-old images of their ship battling, and then boarding, the Jung gunboats replayed in front of them on the forward view screen. Now, finally, the Aurora was running away from the second damaged gunboat that was firing her rail guns at them.
“I remember the pounding on our hull by those guns at close range,” Cameron said. “It was frightening.”
“Try floating in space between those two ships,” Jessica said, recalling her part in that encounter, “with your ship coming toward you really quickly.”
Nathan turned in his chair and smiled at Jessica, remembering how he had dipped the tail end of the ship just as she was about to hit in order to soften her blow. “I remember that little maneuver as well.”
“By the way, thanks again for that one, Skipper,” Jessica said with a wink.
“She’s running,” Cameron announced, as if calling a play by play. “Where were you headed?” she asked. “I don’t remember giving you a course.”
“You may not have. I don’t remember. I just remember turning away from that Jung ship and going to full burn on all four mains,” Nathan said. “Shortly after that, we were hurtling toward the Campaglia and being fired upon from all directions.”
“Why didn’t you turn toward Earth?” Jessica won
dered.
“If I had, that gunboat would have had her guns on us longer. Plus, we would have been even closer to her when her reactor went. I was just trying to get as much distance as possible between us and that ship.”
“Good thinking,” Jessica said.
They watched as the Aurora’s engines burned brightly, their light nearly obscuring their view of her aft end as she sped away from them. Blue-white light suddenly spilled out across the fleeing Aurora’s hull as she began her jump cycle, but then, just as suddenly, a massive ball of intense, white light erupted from the Jung gunboat. The entire screen was instantly filled with the bright light, causing everyone on the bridge to cover their eyes with their forearms or hands.
“Jesus!” Nathan exclaimed. It took several seconds for the bright, white light filling the screen to begin to fade. Then, as suddenly as it had appeared, it vanished.
“So that’s what an antimatter explosion looks like,” Vladimir stated from the back of the bridge, having come in only moments before.
“Is that what the Earth would’ve seen?” Nathan asked the lieutenant.
“Not exactly,” she answered. “They would have been looking at it from a slightly different angle, and the image would be reversed. To them, the detonation would be coming from behind the Aurora, if they were even looking, that is.”
“I’m sure someone was looking,” Abby stated. “They knew our destination.”
“Then they probably think…” Nathan began.
“They haven’t even seen it yet, Captain,” Lieutenant Yosef reminded him. “We were still thirteen light months away from Earth, beyond the outer fringes of the Oort.”
“Then they have no idea what happened,” Nathan realized. “They don’t even know we were ambushed.”
“No, sir. Not for another nine months,” the lieutenant added. “As far as they know, we went around the backside of Jupiter and never came back around.”