The Ghost Fleet

by Trevor Wyatt

  Another part of his character that knows no bound aside from his brutality is his anger. The guy can hold a grudge like his life depended on it.

  I step into his front, pulling his eye-sight. In my periphery, I can see Zhang tense. I have to keep this team together and in the Tyreesians’ good favor, otherwise my coming here would be in vain. All those lives lost would be in vain.

  “Boss, we still got work to do here,” I say. “We can’t go making trouble with the Tyreesians.”

  There is a jerk that heralds the FTL drives coming online. The shuttle bay door slides down and clamps shut. Then the vessel vibrates and we enter into FTL space.

  “We need to remain calm,” I say. I almost lay a calming palm on his shoulder, but I stop in midair when his gaze turns brutish.

  I take a step back, though I don’t fall into a defensive stance because I know that’s just going to get him all riled up.

  “You don’t have to fucking explain to me all that,” the man says. “I know perfectly well. But these guys need to be taught that the agenda that’s important right now is our agenda, nothing else.”

  Oh, it may seem as though they are pushing our agenda, but the Tyreesian agenda is what’s being pushed. I don’t say this, but I know it for a fact. When dealing with a Tyreesian, you just have to make do with what you get. Work with them and hope that their own surreptitious agenda doesn’t get in the way of yours.

  “Yes, boss,” I say. “Now isn’t the time. Maybe when we rejoin our brothers and we’re more than eleven tired people?”

  He nods. “You’re right.”

  He turns to address the others. Zhang comes to join me behind the team leader, but I motion for him to remain where he is. By coming to my aid and answering the Tyreesian commander, it already looks suspicious. I don’t want it to be too obvious that I have developed some sort of connection with him.

  “We lost good people today,” he says to the men, his expression forlorn. “But this is for the greater good. This is for our cause. And where we lost one, the unholy Union will lose one hundred times more.”

  The men mumble their agreements. Some remain quiet. Frankly, I don’t think they’re interested in any pep talk at the moment. They just want to rest up and maybe get some sleep. They aren’t in the mood to be talked up. But trust the team leader to be inappropriate and insensitive to the obvious plight of his people.

  “The Tyreesians may not see this as a victory,” he continues, “but I tell you, we are not here for the Tyreesians.”

  I look around. The engineers around aren’t paying us any heed.

  “They are here for us,” the team leader cries on. “And I say we were victorious. Our brothers did not die in vain. Yet, we will avenge them with the fury of a hellish beast.”

  He pumps his fist into the air.

  I look at him, aghast. What the fuck? Really? Hellish beast?

  I throw a questioning glance at Zhang. He shrugs. The men don’t respond like they’ve actually been inspired. They mumble and some just nod.

  The man puts his hand down and says, “Alright. Get some rest. I’ll let you know when we are assembling.”

  The men disperse out of the shuttle bay quickly.

  Zhang comes to my side and whispers, “Was he shooting for funny?”

  I chuckle, which draws the team leader’s attention to me. I wipe the smile off my face. The man looks from me to Zhang and back to me.

  “Isn’t he too short for you?” The team leader asks.

  At first I don’t understand what he means. Then when I look at the lustful way he looks at me, his eyes devouring my slender body and ample chest, it dawns on me. I’ve never been one to shy away from my…physical and sensual attributes. If anything, I use them to my advantage every single time it presents itself to be used in such a way.

  I cling onto Zhang and I see the greed and anger explode in the man’s eyes.

  “He may be short, but he’s tall down where it matters,” I reply to the man.

  His response is immediate and instinctual. His eyes flicks down to Zhang’s pants and then comes back up. He’s embarrassed by what he just did that he walks away from us.

  I chuckle again. “I think he was shooting for inspirational. Come on, let’s go to my quarters.”

  We leave the shuttle bay and head for the nearest elevator. The corridors are dingier and more Spartan than what we have on any Armada vessel. Armada vessels are well lit and paneled with a beautiful, attractive material.

  Once in the elevator, Zhang says, “Do you really think I’m tall down where it matters?”

  I burst out in laughter.

  “Really?” I glance at him.

  He looks away, smiling.

  “You tell me. You know what it was like hearing you say that? I felt like I’d won the lottery or something.”

  “Yeah, well, if it makes you feel good, I’ll say it every time,” I say, rolling my eyes. Zhang and I haven’t actually fucked. But it keeps the attention off of me from the rest of the crew.

  We get to my quarters, which is the tenth from the elevator. We are in the officers’ quarters’ deck, where even the ship commander has his quarters. As a show of good faith that we are equals in this partnership, the commander had allowed the team leader and me to have large quarters in this deck. The rest, including Zhang, stayed in the lower decks, where most of the crew members of this ship have smaller quarters.

  Once we arrive in the quarters, I lock it. Then I retrieve a small bag from underneath my bunk bed and pull out a black cube the size of two fists. I press the power button, and it blinks blue twice before turning a deep red. No one can listen in now.

  I look up at Zhang. “We can talk freely now.”

  Zhang remains standing, while I sit on the bed, beside the cube.

  “Did you use your nanites during the mission?” he asks.

  “I didn’t realize that was the question you’ve been itching to ask me since we returned from the colony,” I reply.

  He shrugs.

  “I didn’t want to be too direct and I didn’t want you to accuse me of having a holier than thou attitude."

  “Yes, I used my nanites,” I reply. “It’s how I was able to take out twenty security operatives.”

  “Twenty?” he exclaimed. His eyes bulge out in shock.

  “I had to,” I say.

  “If I didn’t, they would have killed me. Look, I can’t take the chance of having to knock them out, when they are out to kill me with weapons. I can’t continually do this without my team beginning to suspect that I haven’t really cut ties with the Armada.”

  “Still, isn’t this too much of a price to pay?” Zhang asks. “I’m not comfortable with this, No One. We are going too far. These are our guys for god’s sake. How can we look at the director in the eye when we finally report in?”

  “I don’t really think about that when I’m out in the field trying to stay alive,” I say. “Look, we’ve come so far to be deterred by emotions...”

  “Emotions?” he claps back. “You’re killing innocent people and you’re saying I’m being emotional?”

  I calm down.

  “I didn’t mean it like that…”

  “Then how did you mean it?” he says, cutting me off again.

  I stand to my feet, rising several inches above the smaller man.

  “No one understands that more than I do,” I say.

  “But you have to understand that a few casualties, while regrettable, are sacrifices that have to be made for the greater good. Our overall mission of recovering the secret to the Tyreesians’ teleportation technology is paramount.”

  “It’s been a year since the faceoff between the Tyreesians and The Seeker. The Armada is fast-tracking weapons and defensive development to match the Tyreesians in the eventuality of an all-out conflict. The same thing is happening with other Galactic Powers. But we all have been unsuccessful at cracking the final components of the matter transport devices that the Tyreesians are using to
wreak havoc, like they have on Patreus III.”

  I pause for a few moments to ensure Zhang is following me. Then, I continue.

  “Even if the Armada closes the gap soon, resources are spread too thin to focus on the matter transport at the same time. So we in Armada Intelligence need to help in any way we can.”

  I’m done, so I sit back down and wait for Zhang’s response. He sighs aloud and looks up at the ceiling for a moment.

  “I don’t like it, but I agree it’s necessary,” Zhang says. “I also realize that it’s important to maintain our cover. I just hope this gets over soon so we can stop killing our own people.”

  When I was called upon to infiltrate the Separatists’ ranks, I knew I would have to make sacrifices. I just didn’t know my fellow undercover agent would question my every move.

  “We are not Separatists,” I say to Zhang, “I know that very well. We are Armada Intelligence Operatives who have been sent to infiltrate them. But, if this is going to work, we better behave and act like them, otherwise we’d have lost even before we get close enough to our prize.”

  Zhang looks at me again.

  “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you didn’t care about the people you kill.”

  “I don’t have to care or not care, Agent Zhang,” I quip back. “I just have to do my damn job. This is bigger than me. This is for the Terran Armada. And the future of the Terran Union.”

  Zhang

  “Of course, and that goes the same for me” I say, “but you don’t see me being comfortable going on a killing spree.”

  I really disagree with No One. I mean, she killed twenty StarTech soldiers. That’s absurd, and no mission—or technology is worth that price. If she killed so many in this mission, how many more will she have to kill in the future?

  That’s not even what mainly bothers me. It’s the fact that she doesn’t seem to care that she kills the people we took a vow to defend without scruples.

  There is a very thin line between what’s good and what’s amoral, and No One is threading a little too close to the latter aspect. I believe that there are times a man has to kill another man. Nevertheless, when you have to kill and not feel sorry or some form of remorse or even second guess your decision to kill, then that’s a serious problem.

  Imagine littering the ground with bodies of twenty fine men and women with families, whose only crime was to fight for a corporation in the Terran Union, whom we’re goddamn affiliated to. This is outrageous! The Terran Council Committee on Black Ops of the Terran Armada Intelligence Operations Command will not look the other way.

  We may succeed in this covert mission, but I’m sure that our actions will come to bite us in the ass one day. Oh, they will. Our superiors may overlook it at the moment, we may brush it aside, but someday, when our missions are being reviewed, we will have to answer for the things we did in the name of peace, prosperity and the Terran Union.

  “Zhang, you misunderstand my expressions from what I feel on the inside,” No One replies.

  She’s relaxed on her bed, her jet-black hair streaming down to her shoulders. Her cleavage shoots out even in the thick clothing of black and red. I’ve been attracted to her from the start, like any other man would be. Her legs are crossed before her, and her palms against the sheets of the bed.

  “We are spies,” she says, now speaking in a patronizing tone, like I don’t know this fact. “You have to learn that even with you, even though we’re working together on this case, I won’t let the contents of my heart reflect on my face.

  “I won’t show emotions, regardless of who you are. I put on my poker face on and off the field. It’s how I got so good. You know, some agents only practice their craft on the field. They don’t when they are off the field. That’s why a lot of them end up dead.”

  “So, you’re saying that you feel bad about what you did but you are just not good at showing it?” I say, trying to understand her drift.

  And yes, I’m one of those agents who leave spy craft for the field and out of my personal life. I may not be as good or laureled and awarded as the legendary No One, still I am good and I like where I am. We can’t all be the best, can we?

  “No,” she replies with an exasperated voice. “I’m not bad at showing it. I’m just not showing it.”

  “So, you do feel some form of sadness for butchering those officers?”

  She flashes me a dismayed look.

  “What do you think I am? A psychotic gun-toting bitch with no control and heart?”

  Well…yes?

  I don’t say it. I don’t want to be kicked out of the force yet.

  Her eyes widen with realization. She must have read the expression on my face and may have deduced my thoughts.

  “I’m not a dispassionate, gun-toting bitch, Zhang,” she says. “I do have a heart. And I feel very sorry for those agents I had to kill. But I had to do it. We’re just going to take it as one of the losses we endure for the greater good. And when I appear before a Council subcommittee, I will answer for it. For now, I have a job to do and I intend on doing it.”

  Even if it means killing more innocent humans? I don’t ask. I’m actually exhausted by this conversation. What am I trying to achieve with this, anyway?

  “Are you convinced now?” she asks.

  “Convinced of what?” I return.

  “Convinced about me?” she asks, and I almost think she’s making an overture at me. I’ve never really thought of No One as anything more than my senior and a superior intelligence operative. But now that I look at her on the bed, I begin to realize for the millionth time just how fucking hot she is.

  I hold back my breath as I become self-conscious.

  “About…you?” I ask, hoping that it is what I want it to be.

  She smiles. “That I’m not dispassionate…”

  “Oh,” I reply with an arched eyebrow. Bummer!

  “Yeah, sure. I’m convinced.”

  Of course I’m still not convinced. Still, I look at No One as if I am. If I don’t, it’s just going to get me in trouble with her, and she’s my commanding officer in the Armada Intelligence.

  No One is known to be cruel and clinically efficient in the way she handles her informants and recruits. It’s been part of her since she was recruited by Admiral Shane at Operations Command, whose early records are littered with questionable actions. His actions yielded great results, but they were questionable nonetheless.

  Trying to change No One’s actions or trying to get her to see the errors of her ways would be as hard as trying to move a starship that is grounded on a planet with your bare hands. It’s completely impossible.

  To be sure, I admire No One. When I received the message that I was going to be working with her on this case, I was ecstatic.

  I’ve followed her for quite some time. Now, getting to work with her is a great boost to my career. I’m sure that after this mission, I’ll become a station chief on one of the most prestigious colony worlds or maybe get bumped to Captain and lead one of the new Armada Intelligence starships with hundreds of intelligence operatives onboard. That is my dream posting, and I’m sure to get it after all this.

  I hear a beep. I roll up my sleeve. The wrist device, which Armada Intelligence gave to me, has turned from a standby red to green. It usually does that when there’s an incoming message. I operate the wrist and realize that there’s no message. That only means one thing—Operations Command wants to talk.

  I look up at No One, but she’s already ahead of me. She picks up her box and activates the jamming signal. This will prevent the onboard communications officer from picking the signal that comes into and goes out of this room. It essentially creates a black well in this room—nothing will show up on the onboard communications console. That is, if they are actively looking for something.

  I tap in the secret code and the wrist device sends a coded message to Operations command via slipstream, telling them that we’re ready to talk. Less than a minute later, the wrist
device broadcasts a holographic image into the air.

  I snap to attention as the three feet image of Admiral Shane appears before me. No One doesn’t do such a thing.

  “At ease, Zhang,” he says. “No One.”

  “Shane,” No One replies.

  “Okay,” Admiral Shane says. “You are still aboard that Tyreesian vessel, correct?

  “Yes, sir,” No One replies. “Same warship. We jumped the moment we left the Patreus system. I don’t know what our current bearing is. We may be heading towards Tyreesian space or somewhere else to foment trouble.”

  “Anyways, the reason I asked is I have new orders for you,” he says.

  “Go ahead, sir,” I say.

  “I need you to extract a Tyreesian defector,” he says. “It’s a Tyreesian scientist who will be part of a diplomatic attachment addressing a summit between The Human Confederation, The Tyreesian Collective, the Kurta Colonies, and the Terran Union in Perseus.”

  “Perseus?” I ask, racking my brain. “Where’s that?”

  No One is the one who answers.

  “Perseus is a remote and pastoral farm planet near the border of these four powers.”

  I don’t know if it’s her nanites enhancement that enables her to remember such details or if she just looked up some Armada secure files. It’s against protocol to do so in a different territory, such as where we are, but it’s No One. She gets by with virtually everything.

  “Yes,” Admiral Shane says. “The Terran Union is trying to pursue a dialog in this volatile region of space in hopes of greater harmony, technology transfer, and agreements to build technology together to get the missing links in building our own matter transport device. The Tyreesians are running holy fucking havoc on the border outposts with their matter transport technology. So we’re holding a summit and involving the Human Confederation as a way of talking about potential assistance in FTL 6 from us for matter transport for them. They’re also sending some military liaisons to talk to us. We’re hoping that with diplomacy we can shave off at least a year in research. As a backup plan, in case that doesn’t work, we need to help the defector escape.