No Safe Harbor: The Silver Liner

by Daniel Sullivan

  Melinda took Fiona’s hand, holding it tightly and cried. She did not know how long she cried, but the doctor stayed with her through it all. Somehow, Ms. Carlisle had known the answer before she asked the question, but to have it confirmed that all of her friends were dead, pushed her over the edge. The doctor had almost a motherly way about her and Melinda cried, unable to stop. Fiona merely held her hand and comforted her through it all. She wondered what would happen next and if the obtaining of Royce and his Silver Liner had been worth the lives of all those people.

  With each powerful blow, the room reverberated with the sound. Commander Jax was letting off as much steam as he could. With no need to hold back, he struck the heavy bag with a degree of force that no ordinary human could generate. His punches, elbows, knees, shins and feet assaulted the bag, threatening to tear it from its mooring. As he worked out, his anger and rage slowly abated, replaced by the Zen of exercise. As he calmed his mind, he became aware of another person in the room. He turned to see Captain Gifford’s, who had begun her own calisthenics routine. She looked as frustrated as he was.

  Pausing to watch her practice, the commander admired the woman he hoped to settle down with. In nothing but a pair of shorts and a sports bra, her toned physique was on display. In spite of her physical strength, there was something distinctly feminine about Carol. It was one of the things he liked about her; she was every inch a marine and a Starfleet officer, while also being every inch a woman. Carol was not “pretty” per-se, but she was everything Jax wanted in a woman. Eventually, she became aware of his observation and paused.

  “Like what you see?”

  “You know I do,” he replied.

  She laughed. “I hope you’re not just saying that. I’m not an attractive woman.” She stopped her exercise and took a quick drink. “You … you do mean it, right?”

  He raised an eyebrow at her inquiry. “Carol, I love you. Of course I mean it.”

  “I know,” she assured. “I just like to hear it. I don’t get compliments often; I know the crew calls me ‘Captain Man-jaw’ when they think I’m not listening.”

  Jax grimaced at this. “Guess I didn’t get around to as many as I thought.”

  Carol raised an eyebrow. “Get around to …”

  “I caught a few saying it.” He punched the bag, the impact reverberating through the room. “Told them if I heard it again, they’d be going one on one with me.”

  She giggled at this. “Defending my honor? It’s not something I need you to do, but I appreciate the gesture.”

  “If only that were the biggest fish to fry,” Jax mused. “So many things have gone wrong on this mission; and none of them due to your command decisions. It’s like no matter what we did, everything just unraveled.”

  Carol sighed heavily. “I know the feeling; I’m a captain without a ship. I don’t think I’ve ever felt more futile and powerless in my life … not since childhood anyway.” Then she smiled. “Well, at least one objective has been met.”

  “Oh?”

  “We broke through one major wall.” Carol stood up and kissed him. Then, putting on her gloves, she added, “Come on, Commander. Let’s get some training in while we’re still alone.”

  Falling into a fighting stance, he smiled, saying, “Yes, ma’am.”

  Heather had gone to the mess for lunch, but the looks she got as soon as she set foot in the room prompted her to simply take her sandwich and drink, and return to engineering. Eating alone, she took stock of her station. It was impeccably kept, as it was before her full awakening and sabotage of the ship. The Ai being permanently damaged was unexpected, but with Lena’s reactivation, that problem had been solved. The bigger problem was the crew. They now knew what she was and were either ambivalent or outright hostile to her. She felt a twinge of guilt over Fiona and Kendrick, who had truly cared for the old Heather, but there was nothing to be done. The new Heather was in place now and they would just have to adjust.

  New Heather. Going under cover and awakening had not been as seamless as she had hoped. Details of her life prior to accepting the mission were fuzzy or seemingly blank, a side effect of the programming process, she assumed. It would come back to her; at least she hoped that it would, but one of the details that eluded her was her name prior to the mission. Over a year of being Heather seemed to have indelibly imprinted that name into her psyche. She had a name before the mission; it was there, but just out of reach. She could sense it, but could not remember it.

  No matter; she had a job to do and a new crew to integrate with. They would accept her. They would have to; she had to spend time in spin gravity and use the gym, just like everyone else in order to maintain bone and muscle density. As “Heather Dalrymple,” she had neglected this and her physical strength had suffered for it. Thankfully, she was a sturdy girl to start with. It would all come back. So too, would her memories. Once they got to Earth, she would get back into shape and the real mission could begin.

  Ronan had just returned to the Pod Beta chapel. Sergeant Gardner proved an able cook, far better than Ronan himself and had offered to take on the mealtime duties. Lunch for the larger group had gone well enough, though not everyone stayed; Heather got a sandwich and left the mess immediately, presumably taking her meal back to engineering. Fiona did the same, presumably returning to the Med Bay. Kendrick did not show up at all, though with all that was going on, Ronan was not surprised. The priest had already done as much as was possible with the Pod Beta chapel that morning, so he began work on his sermon for Sunday simply to pass the time, while availing himself to their military passengers. Kendrick wandered in just as he was putting on the finishing touches.

  “Afternoon, Father; you busy?”

  “I was just finishing up my sermon,” the priest replied. “What can I do for you?”

  “I need to talk to you about Heather,” Kendrick explained. “You know she’s not really Heather anymore; just a plant from Tracht.”

  “I have been praying for her every day since she was first laid low,” said Ronan, “but I fear that the Heather we knew is lost to us and a new girl has taken her place. Christ calls upon us to love all, regardless of who they are; and that includes Heather in her new capacity.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought you’d say,” said Kendrick with a sigh. “But I don’t know that I can ever trust her again.”

  “You need to talk to her, Captain; get to know her. The Heather we knew may be gone, but traces of her may yet remain. Find them … nurture them.”

  “How? I don’t know how to do that kind of thing,” Kendrick protested.

  “Talk to her,” Ronan repeated. “There’s no formula for this, Captain. You can only try. If nothing else, a new relationship with her must be formed. You’re the captain and she is a crewmember, whether we like it or not, and she will be a crewmember on whatever this mission is that Tracht recruited you for; you need to find a way to work with her.”

  “I suppose, you’re right, Father. Say, you up for a drink?”

  “I think the good Lord would smile upon us enjoying a glass of sacred whiskey.” He proceeded to go to his cabinet and remove a bottle of Jameson and two glasses.

  Kendrick looked at him dubiously. “You consecrate whiskey?”

  The priest laughed as he poured a glass and handed it to Kendrick. “You can consecrate anything, Captain. And I’ve considered doing just that; I’ve noticed that since Amanda and Terri boarded, there has been a much greater drain on your wine stocks than there was previously.” He then poured a glass for himself and raised it. “To a happy outcome to this whole mess!”

  Kendrick laughed as he clinked his glass against Ronan’s. “I’ll drink to that!”

  Kendrick left the Pod Beta chapel feeling somewhat better; Ronan’s appraisal gave him hope, but the task of finding traces of the old Heather in the new personality was daunting. He stepped from the Pod Beta lift into the Nexus and floated to engineering, pondering the implications of Tracht’s statements the whole
way. It was possible that Tracht was playing him, but why? He already had Kendrick’s agreement and while it was obtained under duress, he held more than enough over the civilian captain and his wayward crew to ensure that Kendrick would keep it. Kendrick was convinced that it was all somehow tied to the enigmatic Promethean Project.

  Putting it from his mind as he arrived at engineering, he gave the door a quick knock, then entered the engine room, where the new Heather awaited. With Cyrus elsewhere, he was alone with the engineer. She turned and acknowledged him as he closed the door behind him.

  “Captain,” she said coolly. “I’ve been expecting you.” Gone was her warmth and friendliness, replaced by a cold professionalism.

  “I’d imagine so.” Kendrick was unsure how to proceed with her. Given a choice, he would lock her in cryo for the voyage’s duration, but that was not an option.

  Heather floated down to the metal table where she spent hours playing chess with anyone who would take the time for a game. “You already know what I am and why I’m here, and your sex-bot can monitor ship functions from anywhere on the vessel. Not sure why you’re back here with a lowly engineer.”

  “It’s my ship; I go where I want and talk to who I want.”

  “Okay; you’re talking to me. What do you want?”

  Kendrick hardened his expression. “Answers.”

  She looked back at him, her face an unreadable mask. “To what questions?”

  Kendrick tried to ignore how un-Heather like she was and do as Ronan had suggested, though he had no clue as to how. “Heather, is there any of … you … left in there?”

  “The Heather you knew is gone; her program self-deleted after certain conditions were met. I am a different person.”

  “Can you do what she did?” This did not sound good, but if this agent did not have Heather’s engineering skills, then he would have to address that, as the Selene had run better than ever with Heather seeing to her systems.

  “If serving as the ship’s engineer is what you mean, then yes, I can.” She sounded miffed that he was questioning her ability.

  “Regardless, Heather and the crew had a working relationship; a rhythm … a trust. You don’t have that with us and I’m concerned that when the time comes, you’ll be less than Heather.”

  “I am far more capable than my cover program was, Captain, so you need not worry yourself, though I don’t think that’s why you’re here at all. What are you really after?”

  This is going to be harder than I thought; and I thought it was damn near impossible! Kendrick decided to try the direct approach. He reached across and clasped her shoulders, looking into her eyes. “Heather, come on! It’s me! Don’t you remember … anything?”

  Heather smiled. It was a familiar smile and her face reddened a touch. She gently placed her hands on his arms and leaned closer. “Of course I remember, Captain.” Then she gripped his arms and pulled him in, the lack of gravity negating his weight advantage, and kissed him full on the lips.

  Kendrick pushed back and disengaged himself from her grip. “What the …?”

  Heather just giggled. “What, Captain? You didn’t really think I don’t notice you, did you? It was one of the perks of the assignment.” Then she grabbed his sleeve and pulled herself closer to him. “Besides, you should know that it wasn’t just when Heather was asleep that I would awaken; she had enough downtime that I could take command and she would remember it as a catnap. You and I had in depth conversations on more than one occasion … Captain.”

  This had taken a serious turn away from the ‘two distinct personalities’ notion that he had. Yes, there were two distinct personalities, but this other girl had been a part of the woman he had come to know as Heather. He wondered which one had become enamored with Mun, though with her currently making passes at him, he suspected that it was not the personality he was currently speaking to.

  “What about Kang?”

  “The mall cop? Please! He’s a clueless dolt. Good gunner and a hell of a chess player, but naïve as a ten-year old. You’re far more interesting.”

  “I’m also taken, so don’t even go there!”

  “Hey … Ken … I’m here whether you want me here or not. My job is to stay close to you. Doctor Keane won’t last once your work with Colonel Tracht is done; though I strongly advise you to make yourself permanent and she won’t abide a life of working with us. But me? I don’t have those problems. Something to think about … Ken.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” He folded his arms, hoping it would prompt her to let go of his sleeve, but it did not.

  “Come on, Ken,” she said, smiling like the Heather he remembered. “Doctor Keane is a brilliant woman, but she’s not of much use to us. This is a long term project too and she is not young.”

  “She ain’t exactly old; she’s not even fifty-five!”

  “She’ll be a senior citizen by the time this is all done; a senior citizen with almost zero relevance to this project. What relevance she does have is not unique to her.”

  “Actually, it is. It’s why I’m working with you; part of it at least.”

  “And if Keane were not a factor, Lena and the rest of your crew would be enough to keep you in our fold.”

  This was getting him nowhere and he truly hated that she was right. They own me, he thought. He would definitely need to talk with Fiona about Heather’s comments later.

  “Alright, alright, alright,” he said, shaking his head. “I get it; you ain’t goin’ nowhere and you ain’t the you I thought you were. So are you even Heather anymore? Or should I call you something else?”

  “Heather is just a codename, Captain.” She resumed a more professional demeanor, though she still retained her grip on his sleeve and maintained her close proximity. “I’m an agent; names change with the mission, so one name is as good as another.”

  He blinked back tears, realizing that he was fighting a losing battle. “Heather … is a person, a beautiful, adorable person. I won’t give up on you, Heather. We’ll find a way to get you back.”

  She laughed, shaking her head. “Captain, your sentimentality is sweet, but you should know that Heather Dalrymple was never the person you thought her to be and that even the constructed personality that you interacted with most of the time was not what you thought it to be. You seek to restore a woman who never was. Perhaps you should focus on the girl before you instead.”

  While Kendrick had his first conversation with the new Heather, Colonel Tracht was relaxing in his cabin after a workout with Sergeant Gardner in the gym. He had just brewed a pot of the wonderful Kona coffee that Kendrick kept aboard when his door chime sounded.

  “Enter,” he called.

  The door opened, revealing Captain Gifford’s, who saluted him as she entered the room. He reflexively returned her salute, then shook his head.

  “Carol, we’re friends and we’re off duty.”

  “Doctor Kinsale just showed us three dead clone soldiers captured during one of Lorgen’s attacks on the Selene. Funny, but they all look identical to my XO,” she opened. “Will you tell me the truth? About Commander Jax?”

  Tracht motioned for her to come in, then pulled out a chair for her at the cabin’s small table. “Coffee? I just brewed a pot,” he offered, seeing that it was ready.

  “Of course.” She graciously accepted the cup he offered and took a deep draught of the dark liquid. “Royce doesn’t skimp; this is the best damn coffee I’ve ever had! But let’s cut the crap; the question still stands, Colonel. Will you tell me the truth about Jax?”

  He poured himself a second cup and turned to face her, carefully studying her, her eyes in particular. “What is your interest in the Commander?”

  She looked away self-consciously, her cheeks reddening slightly. “I … he’s a friend, Colonel.” She looked back up at him, still nervous and still wearing slight blush.

  “You’re sweet on him, aren’t you?” Tracht could hardly believe it. The last person he expected to be
falling in love in the middle of a mission was Captain Gifford’s, but here she was, showing all of her cards.

  Tracht took his seat across from her as she sat silently. She knew she had tipped her hand, of that he was certain. Normally, he would reprimand her for even considering a relationship with a subordinate, but in Carol’s case, he could not bring himself to do that. He slowly collected himself, trying to find the best possible solution. Carol was a friend, but she was also an officer in the United States Starfleet.

  “Why do you think that?” she managed to ask, still trying desperately to hide her feelings and failing miserably.

  He could not help chuckling. “You should see yourself in a mirror! Carol Gifford’s in love; kind of priceless.” She glared at him, but he just laughed and shook his head. “C’mon; anyone seeing you right now would be able to see it. You’re just lucky that it’s me and not some high ranking clerk with a Napoleon complex!”

  She deflated and looked down at her coffee. “Am I that obvious?”

  “Oh, yes! You know, right now, neither of you have an assignment. With the Liberty destroyed, you’re just a couple of sailors on shore leave. Though I suspect you’ll want him along as your XO when you do get your next command.”

  “Just … just tell me the truth about him,” she retorted. “I need to know … he needs to know … but I thought maybe I could discuss it with you without flattening you.”

  “You were right to come to me, but you needn’t have worried. I already sent Donavan an invitation to meet me in … oh, about now.”

  “You mean you were planning to tell him?”

  “Not originally, but once Royce made it clear that he wouldn’t dance around the subject if he encountered Jax, I thought it best to head this off at the pass, though I wasn’t expecting the doctor to be the one to break it to him.”

  The chime sounded, signaling Jax’s arrival and the colonel signaled for it to open, calling out, “Enter.”