Quantum

by K A Carter

  She nodded, “I’ll speak with them.”

  The sleep was like a long-awaited nap after a rocky ascent back up. Jericho rubbed his head softly while strutting to the ships command center, it was only ten feet or so from the cockpit. Anda was eating outside of the galley; another canister of ‘space’ eggs pried open with at the top. Freya and Gideon examined the interface that displayed advanced holographic visuals. The light off the hologram gleamed against Freya’s eyes. It was sharp enough to disturb Gideon’s sight; he adjusted his glasses. He slid thick fingers into the corners of his eyes, rubbing like there was something in them then looking back into the interface.

  “Looks like this console displays ship readouts, layouts, and appears to have some sort of map in it. But it’s all encrypted. Like it requires a certain authorization”, Gideon uttered, unwavering from his tasks.

  Frey nodded affirmatively. “I can get started on cracking that to see how protected it is” Behind her were black cases that stacked up one on top of the other. Some were life-sized, others resembled something you’d carry high piece machinery in. They were code locked. The command center outlined the part of a ship that made a spherical interior shape within the ship, it was wider inside than the outer hull let on. It was unnoticeable to those observing the shape of the ship from the outside.

  Down the narrow corridor were the ship quarters. Jericho could see Zen walking towards the C-center. She strutted toward him. “Don’t think I forgot about the appointment,” she said. Jericho in no way hadn’t. It reminded him to get Anda before he left. Otherwise, he wouldn’t hear the end of it.

  At the airlock, Anda was strapping some sort of cylindrical device to her belt. It dangled with a solid metal finish and a LED blinker the size of a fingertip at the top. “What’s that?” Jericho asked.

  She looked down at the device. “I fashioned a remote beacon. You know, in case we need to be found…or disappear.”

  Scud slowly motioned to Jericho whispering something in his ear. Zen paid no attention to it. She was too busy looking uncomfortable in regular clothes. “When we get back, I’d like to see those encryption blocks down,” said Jericho, loud enough that Zen could hear.

  “I’ve got Gideon and Freya already on it.” Scud replied. “Stay frosty Cap’n.”

  Jericho had expected some sort of low-level corporate dog to be the one to evaluate his eligibility to register. The man could have still been one, but his office had insinuated otherwise. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Captain Jericho.” The Northbreak associate said, he paused to confirm the name on the data tablet.

  His desk was untidy for a well-suited man. He spoke with Martian-French accent. Jericho had gotten accustomed to those sorts of people, wealthy and educated that took their inner planet degrees elsewhere. For this associate, it had taken him to a place more foreign then anything in the home system. His mixture of drawl was a byproduct of early earth immigration into the solar system. Probably some rich businessman’s privileged son whom joined a company with his bought experience. Jericho could see the self-proclamation roll off of him with every motion.

  “Pleasure’s all mine”, said Jericho.

  “And I can assume that these two are your first and second officer. I don’t seem to have your names, if you could I’ll input them into the contact information and contract”

  Neither of the three could’ve guessed that Zen would have to be listed as an. Jericho knew Scud would have something to say about it. Jericho didn’t expect to have to confirm his officers. Since he wouldn’t be with them long, so he hoped, Jericho placed Zen as second officer on the ships tags. The registration data was on a small tablet. It was as thin as a fingernail and folded up swiftly. Jericho pocketed it, sparing no time. He shook the hand of the associate. It was clammy and pale. The associate extended his to Anda and Zen and sat back. Waving his hand, the door opening up behind them.

  One thing was over with. Jericho didn’t show it, but a wear and tear on his mental state was persisting. One more occurrence, and he may have just booted up the drive and shot the ship straight into Volland’s science vessel. It was still on the table if the federation captain didn’t let them go.

  “Volland’s been calling for you Cap’n”, said Scud on the communicator. He had called just seconds before Jericho opened the cargo hatch to enter the ship.

  Back onboard the ship the hail visual came up on the wide window that sat hugging the starboard side. “Captain Jericho, get up here as quickly as possible,” said Volland. Jericho could recognize the tremulous tone the captain had. “Hail me on approach and I’ll come down to the hangar.”

  Jericho nodded. In his head he had ideas. Some of them had to do with getting away. Only it was far too likely that Volland would blow the ship to dust; prototype or not. Either way the crew wouldn’t question it. Half of them had the same idea. He figured it couldn’t hurt to hear what Volland had to say. Zen was as curious as he was.

  The Ebon grew in the distance as Freya piloted the ship closer. It’s hangar bay almost close enough to see the large metal bay doors opening. With himself and Zen in the cockpit, it appeared snugger than he originally remembered. Freya split the monitor using the leftmost. The central screen showed Volland speaking with an ensign. He was taking the hail from his captain’s seat on the bridge.

  “We’re on approach Volland” said Jericho. “I can see you guys in the distance.”

  “I see you registered with the Northbreak company as a freelance worker,” Volland started. “I suppose that was the best decision. Can’t have the Moranthians taking notice to strangers.”

  “Considering we’ll be planet-side a while, it made sense.”

  “We’ll hold off on that for a moment. We have to send you and your crew to Moranth. In the capital city where the Imperial Sulur is located.”

  “Won’t that get us noticed?”

  “Not if you’re careful. There are freelancers on Moranth. Few, but much of them are contacted to transport goods from one Coporate establishment to another. I’ve recently received information that about a corporate operative that just made landfall a few days ago.” Volland tightened his neck with one motion. “If you successfully conduct some, espionage if you will, I can assure you and your crew freedom upon the return of the prototype ship.

  “Consider it done.” Jericho didn’t want to spend any more time than he needed speaking to the man. His face exhibited the worst characteristics that he had seen on similar faces from the inner planets back home. That Federation paid smile for those who were already wealthy. From wealthy families with great opportunities. Volland, and even Zen, were undoubtedly resented in the roughest parts of The Brink.

  “Wonderful, and I think I have good news for you, depending on your perspe -“ in the moments between what Volland was saying, a sensor operator butted in. “Captain, I am picking up some weird signatures. Two of them. Heading our way.” The captain’s eyes widened on the hail; Jericho and Zen pausing at the helm control.

  On Freya’s flight screen the full profile of the Ebon could be seen clearly. Two ships dropped out of warp a few thousand miles from its large profile. Their trajectory on a course for the Ebon at an alarming velocity . Jericho could see flashes come from both ships. “Captain, their shooting at you!” Zen said.

  Volland rustled in his seat in a panic, still on screen with the crew of the Icarus. “Evasive maneuvers now!” A large thump could be heard and soon after another. It was a result of the explosions that could be seen through the cockpit window. Zen’s mouth widened with despair. She began to weep. He couldn’t imagine what the crew of the Ebon meant to her. A series of explosions followed the cut off of the hail between them. The crew watched it flickering in the distance as the Ebon broke into pieces.

  “Freya, get us the fuck out of here!” said Jericho.

  Chapter 8: S’tiri

  S’tiri would never speak out of place. He had given up that privilege when he enlisted years ago. There wasn’t much choice. A soldi
er was only as good as his loyalty. S’tiri was certainly loyal. He had adjusted quickly to being aboard a ship this time around. The L’uremzod was named after the famous Sogul that sacrificed himself and half a squadron to save the Myrians home planet from a desolate bombardment by separatists. It was fitting. The Captain seemed of a similar stature. S’tiri never met him prior to being aboard, but assumed if he had, he would believe him to be the type of Irinan that would give up his captain’s quarters if it meant comforting the sick or injured. Captain J’elan was his title.

  Z’oni and Donas had kept their distance for the first few cycles onboard. It was only now that they were inching closer to a meeting between two inequivalent forces that both seemed to surprisingly lightened up. Z’oni seemed to have no problem relinquishing her professional persona that she appeared to engage in among the other superiors. S’tiri saw a bit of it back aboard the battle cruiser.

  Donas seemed reborn. It wasn’t enough just sitting in the mess deck or fraternizing with the crew. S’tiri thought of Donas as someone to look up to in a way. They had become friends through a shortly lived battle on an unsuspecting moon. S’tiri felt that was adequate enough in forming the typical bonds between two soldiers. Seeing him here not on the battlefield felt unusual in some sort of way. Yet he didn’t bother to think too much about it. For the time being, seeing other Irinans letting loose was calming. He was growing accustomed to watching them and seeing how everyone behaved when the opportunity presented itself. As all of them were void of their superiors. It wasn’t a trait that people back home would say he had, but it was present; buried underneath struggle for control. Of both his emotions and – in some way – his future. The mental bombardment rarely happened the way it was now. When there wasn’t anything else to do. When the carbine wasn’t in his hand and powered armor wasn’t weighing down on thick shoulders.

  The mess deck was full of off duty patrons. A crew of ten thousand and they all seemed to be relieved of their posts at one time. S’tiri spent more time on the ground, he didn’t expect there would be much less to do aside from throwing back drinks at the cantina. It wasn’t much to look at. Just a deck dedicated to making extended duty and time in between rescue aids a lot less taxing on the crew.

  To S’tiri’s surprise, he couldn’t spot many soldiers. Most of those in the cantina were made up of engineering crew and terminal workers. S’tiri had an idea that he could tell them apart. Soldiers usually had a guarded stance. Even when around those they trusted, it was like a wall that never seemed to come down. Donas sat across from him. He could see the wall prominent in his posture. He could see the guarded self behind the relaxing exterior Donas put on. S’tiri took comfort in the fact that Donas put on a relaxing exterior, if anything.

  “I can’t agree with you,” Donas said, bantering over his dwindling drink. “This could mean the end of the war.”

  S’tiri held a drink of his own but only took sips. His mind was fluttering with too many things. He didn’t remember he had it until he’d pull away from his thoughts and look down at the pearly drink turning lukewarm.

  “Have you read their history?” S’tiri responded. “Not one checkered with unified cooperation.”

  “No better than Irinan ancient state. We used to worship elders, fighting over our ideologies like savages.” Donas scoffed. “Have you ever seen an elder?”

  Donas was right. Though that feeling of tightness around the abdomen that came with the thought of meeting humans, could’ve been simple prejudice. Comparing the young species to Irinans was like contrasting water to what was in his cup. Two distinct things that bared only one similarity. Each was a liquid. It wasn’t his job to read over anything that may be of use in the CPF history, but S’tiri had taken it upon himself to do so anyway. Cooperative Planet Federation. It sounded like the sad democratic overlay of corruption that spanned planets wide and acted on the supposed good of the people. Nothing he hadn’t heard of before. Irinan government wasn’t perfect. An ancient practice of worshiping the Elders of the old world, gave way to traditions that were deeply rooted in the Mintu governing system. A militaristic law.

  Out of the corner of his eye, S’tiri spotted Captain J’elan motioning to the lift with a group of ensigns. He split away from his conversation without a farewell to catch him before he boarded it.

  “Captain, I was hoping I could speak to you briefly”, said S’tiri. Captain J’elan smiled mildly at the sight of S’tiri. It could’ve been that it gave him a reason to leave the ensigns behind.

  “What’s on your mind?” he replied. By now they were by themselves in a full cantina.

  “I can’t help wondering why we are doing this. Traveling in a weaponless, aid starship to begin diplomatic relations with a species like this. No offense.” The captain nodded as S’tiri continued. “We know nothing about this species. This could be an extremely hostile group.” Captain J’elan nodded again. “I understand your concern. This ship is not outfitted for combat, however that is a purposeful request by the A’tai and the U’naan.” He nudged S’tiri;s shoulder to follow him to the deck lift. “From the information I’ve been given, I am not to take any aggressive action. Admiral T’sul’s words come from A’tai U’naan directly.”

  “Do you think this is plausible course of action then?” S’tiri responded.

  “Frankly, I don’t. orders are orders. You may want to remember that.”

  Just before he entered the lift, he placed a thick hand that was missing one of its three fingers on S’tiri’s shoulder. “We’ll know when we drop out of warp. Shouldn’t be much longer.” A few workers stumbled into the lift behind him. He ignored them. “Just relax S’tiri. You don’t have to be a soldier every second of your life.”

  S’tiri’s thoughts were jumbled. He spent time mulling over what the captain said. A stir of excitement and caution brewed. He was curious but knew that during war, bad choices can be made and this very well could’ve been one. It wasn’t his place, to spite being somewhat of an official now. S’tiri had always been praised for being a good soldier, but to him he wasn’t. He always had his reservations about orders. It had never manifested itself to an actual action of disobedience, but the stakes seemed higher than they had ever been this time around. War does that to you; to a species. S’tiri truly believed it.

  A cycle day later, warp drop was due in three hours. The faces S’tiri had seen in the cantina were those on duty now, sobered up as if they’d never gone out for drinks before. The bridge was at full capacity. Everyone that mattered was there, which turned out to be many. Z’oni rubbed at her neck; she didn’t seem fully aware. Agents of the A’tai had it harder than ground troops. She masked it in her face and instantly she was professional again. But S’tiri knew how difficult their job was. It was something he once wanted. His lack of highborn status didn’t help his quest to become one and after a few flights as a grunt, he didn’t bother to enquire again.

  Donas was late to the bridge. S’tiri had decided not to keep tabs on him for the sake of his own sanity. He hoped in doing so, he would be relieved of that worry. For the time being, he wasn’t.

  Captain J’elan sat in the captain’s seat, it was thick and narrow. Only just wide enough to fit his body snugly. A hail appeared on screen overlapping a view of warp bypass outside the window. The gaseous-like blue streaks slithering past the window like stringy fragments.

  Admiral T’sul appeared on screen, his shoulders perched with excellent Irinan posture. He spoke addressing everyone aboard. “As you all know by now, you are on a first contact mission with a relatively unknown species. I believe that through this we can create a stronger Mulaya. This comes directly from A’tai Unaan committee leaders. This is a peaceful attempt and should - as your Captain knows - have no acts of aggressive nature against any of the constituents. I send you my farewell. A’tai U’naan will be in touch. May your actions be favored by the Elders.”

  The hail was brief and wasn’t mean to leave time for a reply. Some of the
ensigns exchanged glances on the bridge. White uniforms and caps covering a wide spectrum of pink, purple, and indigo bodies. Almost all corresponding directly to their provinces.

  “I know you know more than what they’re telling me, I’d like a little heads up if you don’t mind,” S’tiri said. It was directed at Z’oni, standing only a few inches from him.

  “You know everything I know, if not more,” she said. She seemed upset about something.

  She could have been telling the truth, but S’tiri had to ask himself whether an A’tai agent’s words were any good at all. “Why Humans?” He relaxed his shoulders. “Why not the Lanx or the Hijari. There are plenty civilizations better suited.”

  “When you meet them, you’ll know why they want them. Just try not to make things difficult. The last thing we need is a war to add to the one we already are in.”

  “I wouldn’t do something so drastic.”

  The time passed like slow moving objects in space being carried only by their inertia. The drop out of warp happened in a flash as the ship came to an unfelt stop. The coordinates were only off by a fraction of what they needed to be, leaving the L’uremzod approximately one hundred thousand miles from the group of ships that looked rather sinister at first sight.

  “Set up a hail channel” said Captain J’elan. The helmsman’s hands went to work on an intricate set of controls.

  “We’re hailing now,” the helmsman said.

  The hail went unanswered for nearly a minute. Finally, a face appeared on the screen covering the main deck window. The face squinted at them with an unwavering jaw. Ink-colored, trimmed hair sat on top of a broad face. A thin-lipped man.

  “I am Ambassador Dios-Lobin of the Cooperative Planet Federation”, the face said. His lips hardly moved even though the words came out.