by Ryk Brown
“Fleet intelligence shares all pertinent information with the security and intelligence department of each ship in the fleet, as well as with their captains,” the lieutenant commander reminded her. “The identity of the caste operating in any sector is always pertinent, as battle tactics are known to differ from caste to caste.”
“I am well aware of this, Lieutenant Commander,” Cameron replied. “Which begs the question—Why didn’t command share this information with us? Why did I have to receive it through personal back channels?”
“You didn’t get this intel from command?” Lieutenant Commander Shinoda asked, surprised.
“I did not,” Captain Taylor replied. “In fact, I received this information in a personal message from a trusted friend residing in the Pentaurus sector. Furthermore, it was carried on a jump comm-drone sent directly to Fleet Command nearly a day ago. I checked with a friend in communications at Fleet Command. There was also an intelligence report transmitted from that jump comm-drone, one from General Telles of the Ghatazhak, directed to Alliance Command. I find it hard to believe that the General was not aware of the contents of the message. Therefore, I can only conclude that command knows the Jung ships in the Pentaurus cluster are operated by the Dusahn, and have decided not to release that information, not even to us.”
“By ‘command’, you mean Galiardi,” Lieutenant Commander Shinoda clarified.
“That would be my first guess,” Cameron confirmed. “However, I admit that I have no way to be sure.”
“Surely, they have their reasons,” Commander Verbeek said.
“No,” Lieutenant Commander Shinoda disagreed, “they should have disclosed this to us in the daily intelligence updates.”
“Maybe it’s going to be in tomorrow’s updates?” the commander suggested.
“If there was enough time for the captain to get the info through back channels, then what is command’s excuse?” the lieutenant commander argued.
“I’d like to know what the captain is thinking,” Lieutenant Commander Vidmar, the Aurora’s chief tactical officer, interrupted.
The other two lieutenant commanders looked to their captain, equally interested.
“I don’t really know,” Cameron admitted. “But it’s what I suspect that concerns me.”
“What do you suspect?” Lieutenant Commander Vidmar asked.
“That command is purposefully hiding that information from us… All of us.”
“Why?” Commander Verbeek wondered.
“Because then we’d realize it’s not really the Jung who are sneaking around the Sol sector,” Commander Kaplan said.
“That would pull the rug out from under the admiral’s supporters, wouldn’t it,” Commander Kamenetskiy mumbled.
Everyone at the table looked at Vladimir, shocked by his comment, despite the fact that most of them were likely thinking the same thing.
“I’m sorry. Did I say that out loud?”
“You gotta be kidding me,” Commander Verbeek exclaimed. “The man’s an admiral, for cryin’ out loud…”
“The man is a power monger…” Lieutenant Commander Vidmar argued.
“You really think he’d launch a KKV strike if he didn’t think the Jung…”
“Enough!” Cameron yelled, cutting her CAG and ending the debate before it got out of control. “I don’t care what the truth is at this point, because there is really no way for us to know. I am only certain of two things. First, something more is going on here, something that command, for whatever reason, is not sharing with us. More importantly, our allies in the Pentaurus cluster desperately need our help, and command has chosen to ignore them, despite the fact that a strong Jung industrial presence out there, poses a grave threat to our security back here.” Cameron paused, taking a big breath and then sighing. “For that reason, I have decided to go against orders, and take this ship to the Pentaurus cluster, in order to help General Telles and the Ghatazhak fight the Dusahn, and prevent them from taking over the entire Pentaurus sector.”
“Jesus, Captain,” Lieutenant Commander Vidmar cried. “You’re talking about mutiny.”
“It’s not mutiny,” Lieutenant Commander Shinoda argued, “it’s her ship, for Christ’s sake!”
“It’s not her ship,” Commander Verbeek replied, “it belongs to the Alliance.”
“You know what I mean,” the lieutenant commander said, waving the commander off dismissively.
“Gentlemen,” Cameron interrupted, raising her voice to get their attention. “I will not let this meeting turn into a debate. Is that clear?” Cameron looked at her three most opinionated officers. “Lieutenant Commander Shinoda is correct. This is my ship. That’s why the OD announces ‘Aurora arriving’ when I come on board. This ship is an extension of my will, a fact that is supported by numerous regulations I would be happy to quote, if you’d like. In a nutshell, they give me the authority to do what I think is right. But they also make me responsible when I’m wrong.”
“They also empower us to relieve you of command if we think you’re wrong,” Commander Verbeek reminded her.
“They do,” Cameron admitted. “But I honestly feel it is the right thing to do.”
“They’ll hunt us down…” Commander Verbeek realized.
“Oh, don’t be so dramatic,” Commander Kaplan said. “If Galiardi is telling everyone the Alliance can’t afford to send one ship, then how is he going to justify sending another one? Besides, do you really think they’re going to blow a trillion dollar warship out of the sky?”
“More likely they’ll cover it all up by claiming to have sent us themselves,” Cameron said.
“Regardless, our careers will be over,” Commander Verbeek pointed out.
“Which is why I am giving each of you an opportunity to opt out of this illegal mission. Anyone here who does not wish to be party to this will be provided safe passage back to Earth, prior to our departure.”
“Are you going to extend the same courtesy to the crew?” Master Chief Warhl, the chief of the boat, asked.
“Of course.”
“Well, I for one, would like to know more about this message you received, Captain,” Commander Verbeek commented.
“I cannot share the message with you unless I know you are going with us to the Pentaurus sector,” Cameron told him. “There is information contained within the message that I cannot allow to be carried back to Earth. It is too sensitive.”
“If Fleet Command already has this information…”
“They don’t have this information,” Cameron assured them. “Trust me.”
“When it gets right down to it, that’s what you’re asking us all to do, isn’t it, Captain?” Commander Verbeek said. “Trust you.”
“Yes,” Cameron admitted.
“I trust her,” Vladimir announced without hesitation.
“And why doesn’t that surprise me,” Commander Verbeek replied dryly.
“I trust her, as well,” Commander Kaplan added.
“Another shocker,” Commander Verbeek remarked.
“I trust her, too,” Master Chief Warhl declared.
“As do I,” Lieutenant Commander Kono added.
“Me, too,” Lieutenant Commander Vidmar chimed in.
“And me,” Lieutenant Commander Shinoda announced, joining the others.
“Look, I trust you as much as any of them, Captain,” Commander Verbeek explained. “But we’re talking about stealing the Aurora.”
“I know, Verbee. That’s why I’m giving you all a chance to opt out. And in case any of you are wondering, this meeting will not be in the official logs, so if you do opt out, command will never know that you had prior knowledge of my intent.”
“Wouldn’t it have been easier just to lie, and tell us all that command o
rdered us to the PC?” Commander Verbeek suggested.
“I have too much respect for all of you to lie to you, especially about something this big.” Cameron looked at the commander. “Even you, Verbeek.”
Commander Verbeek chuckled, shaking his head. “What the hell. I guess I’m in, too.”
“Very well. Just to be clear, anyone who is not willing to violate orders and follow me to the Pentaurus sector to fight the Dusahn, please rise, and security will escort you to your quarters until such time as you can be transported back to Earth.” Cameron stared at Vladimir, who was sitting at the other end of the conference table, avoiding eye contact with any of her other officers. She could not blame them if they wanted to go, and she was not willing to put any undue pressure on them. She was quite sure they were already feeling enough pressure. But after a full minute, not one of them had risen.
Cameron breathed a sigh of relief. For this to work, she needed her command staff behind her. “Thank you,” she said. “What I am about to show you reveals highly sensitive information. Information that could start a galactic war. However, I believe that in order for you all to put your hearts and souls into this mission, you need to know the real reason for my decision.” Cameron picked up the remote from the table in front of her, and activated the main view screen on the wall. Another press of a button, and the video of Nathan began to play. A minute later, every mouth in the room, with the exception of hers, her executive officer’s, and her chief engineer’s, dropped open.
Five minutes later, Cameron turned off the view screen, the message now over. “The best man I have ever had the honor of serving with is going to once again risk his life to save us all. I intend to help him any way I can, and nothing is going to stop me.”
* * *
“Captain?” a voice called from Captain Gullen’s office aboard the Glendanon.
“Mister Gammon,” the captain greeted. “What can I do for you?”
The young man looked guilty, almost afraid to speak.
“What is it, son?” the captain urged him.
“Comms just picked up this transmission from a jump comm-drone. It jumped into the system about three light hours away, did a blast transmission, then jumped away again. Mister Dolentz thinks it was a Dusahn comm-drone. We got reports of them jumping around to every system, broadcasting Dusahn propaganda. That’s how we first learned that they took out Ybara, remember?”
“I remember.”
“Anyway, the drone broadcast this before it jumped away,” the young man explained, handing a data pad to his captain. “I’m really sorry, Captain.”
Captain Gullen turned on the data pad, noting that the video broadcast being played on it was paused. He pressed play. Someone was carrying a camera down a line of frightened men and women, gathered in the main square of Aitkenna, on his homeworld of Corinair.
“Jorsell Inman…” the next man in line reported for the passing camera.
“What is this?” Captain Gullen wondered.
“A Dusahn execution line,” the young man said, his own voice trembling at the thought of sharing the news with his captain.
“…Ezri Danson…” the next man in line reported as the camera passed him.
“Why are you…” Captain Gullen stopped mid-sentence as he recognized the next woman in line. “God, please, no… What have I done…”
“…Isa Gullen…”
CHAPTER NINE
Cameron stepped out onto the starboard catwalk from the Aurora’s command deck, into her main hangar deck. Gathered below her were all the men and women on her crew, except for her bridge crew, whom she had already vetted, and a few specialists needed in engineering who had been cleared by Vladimir.
She was uneasy, knowing that only twenty people were currently running her ship. She thought back to a time nine years earlier, when the Aurora had operated with just as many hands. They had managed to pull off the impossible then, and in the two years that followed. She hoped for a similar miracle now.
She tapped her comm-set. “Lock it down, and put me ship-wide.”
“Security is locking it down now, Captain,” Ensign deBanco replied from the bridge.
Cameron glanced below to her left and right, noting that security guards had entered the main hangar deck and were taking up positions at all the exits. The nearly two hundred crew members gathered below also noticed, many of them becoming concerned.
“Ship-wide is active.”
“Attention, crew of the Aurora. I have asked you to gather here for security reasons, since I have an announcement that affects you all. As you all know, the Jung have seized control of the Pentaurus cluster, destroying the Avendahl and the Takaran fleet in the process. You also know that our leaders have decided that the Alliance cannot afford to send even a single ship to honor the Sol-Pentaurus Alliance charter…the very same charter that saved our world nine years ago, and led to the very same Alliance that protects our worlds today. I believe this decision to be a grave error, and I intend to do something about it.”
Cameron could see the disturbed looks on the faces of her crew below. She had seen the same expressions on several of her senior officers when she first told them of her intentions.
“I realize that our primary duty is to protect the people of Earth, before the people of our allied worlds. But I believe that the presence of the Jung in the Pentaurus cluster is a much greater threat to the Sol sector than the Jung nearby. For I do not believe the Jung here have jump drives. If I am wrong, then we are outnumbered and outgunned, and the Aurora will make little difference if the Jung decide to attack the Sol sector with force. However, if I am right, we have a chance to stop what could be the greatest threat we have ever known, before that task becomes impossible.”
Cameron took a deep breath. “In two hours, I am taking this ship to the Pentaurus sector, to join forces with General Telles and the Ghatazhak, where we will fight to once again liberate the Pentaurus cluster. This will be in direct violation of orders, so any of you who do not wish to continue to serve under my command are free to board those shuttles behind you, and you will be returned to Earth.”
Another deep breath, and she ended with, “You have ten minutes to decide,” after which she returned to the command deck.
* * *
Environmental warning horns echoed within the Glendanon’s massive cargo bay. As they sounded, the lighting in the bay changed from red to a normal white light, signaling that the long repressurization cycle had been completed.
The Seiiki’s cargo ramp lowered slowly to the deck. Connor, Michi, Tori, and General Telles and his men came walking out to greet the handful of technicians coming toward them.
“Good afternoon,” the lead technician greeted as he and his team approached.
“Good afternoon,” General Telles replied.
“I trust your training went well?”
“Well enough,” the general responded, continuing past the technical team.
The lead tech said nothing. After the Ghatazhak had walked away, he turned to Captain Tuplo. “That bad, huh?”
“We did okay,” Connor replied with a shrug. “I think he just wishes we had more time to prepare.”
“We’ll do our best to finish ahead of schedule,” the lead tech promised.
“Just see that it’s done right,” Connor insisted.
“Yes, sir,” the lead tech replied. “We’ll get started removing the overhead windows over the upper and lower passenger decks.”
“You’re sure this is all going to work?” Connor asked.
“We’ve been working out the engineering side of it all day using the Glendanon’s computers,” the tech informed him. “It’ll be a lot of work, but we’ll get it done, Captain. We’ll give her some real teeth for you.”
“Thanks, I think,” Connor repli
ed uneasily.
Marcus came down the ramp next, passing the techs on the way as they headed up into the Seiiki. “Nervous?” he asked Connor.
“A little,” Connor admitted. “I mean, they’re opening up my hull.”
“They’re just windows, Cap’n. If you like, I’ll see that they crate them up nice and safe.”
Connor sighed. “Don’t bother. I have a feeling the Seiiki won’t be running passengers ever again,” he said, patting Marcus on the shoulder. “At least not the kind who want to look out the windows.”
“I can’t believe we’re gettin’ plasma cannons!” Josh exclaimed with excitement as he and Loki came down the ramp.
“Don’t get too excited,” Connor warned. “They’re only mark ones.”
“Better than throwin’ rocks,” Josh replied. “Oh, wait; we couldn’t even do that before.”
“If you’ll excuse me, Captain?” Loki said, nodding toward his wife walking toward him, carrying their baby daughter in her arms.
“Might as well start pulling all the passenger seats too,” Connor instructed. “But save those. I’m sure we can do something with them, somewhere. Besides, we paid a lot for them, if I remember correctly.”
“Don’t remind me,” Marcus said, as he turned to go back up the ramp.
* * *
Cameron stood in the flight operations center, staring out the large windows facing into the main hangar bay, as the last few members of her crew who wished to depart boarded the waiting cargo shuttle.
“Better half a loyal crew, than a whole crew that’s only half-loyal,” Commander Verbeek said from behind the captain.
Cameron glanced over her shoulder at the commander. “I was really hoping more of them would stay.”
“If it makes you feel any better, I recognized quite a few of them as having families back home. They were probably afraid they’d never see them again.”
“What about you, Verbee? You have a wife, don’t you?”