The man was fitted with a khaki uniform. A single rank insignia rode on the lapel. A red diamond.
“Bonjour, Major Theodore. Do you speak French?”
“Not to someone whose name I don’t know,” Archie replied as he sat back.
“Je suis, Commandant Nefoussi.”
“Sorry, still can’t speak French.”
Nefoussi smiled crisply and looked to the hall. A pair of striders stalked in. Archie recognized the group from his struggle in the reactor room. One of the striders carried a chair in front of it while the other a glass of water.
The chair was set down and Nefoussi sat. The striders acted as if they were linked directly to him. His hand grasped the cup at the exact moment as the strider released it.
Archie shivered slightly. If it was a show of force and technology, it worked. The UN had to manually hook up a jockey to run a strider, a single strider, or a pair if the pilot was exceptional. This man had at least three under his control while still maintaining a conversation.
“Well, English then I suppose.” Nefoussi took a drink. “Major, I apologize for the, uh, well, conditions, we had to retrofit a cell. We expected no guests.”
“So you intended to massacre an entire station?”
Nefoussi smiled a thin smile. “You are a soldier—missions have necessities. It was a military target.”
Archie felt his heart beat faster and the muscles tense in his shoulders. “And the freighters?”
The Commandant shrugged that slight, Gallic shrug. “Collateral.”
“What do you want, Commandant?”
Nefoussi’s eyes sparkled as he leaned forward against the gravity of the ship. He rubbed his upper lip with a calloused hand and nodded. “To get to know you, Major. And not just as Mr. Klaus.”
Archie stared back. He’d not give the man the satisfaction. “I’m not sure I’d like that.”
“I didn’t ask you what you’d like, the nanites are already in your brain.”
The room felt warm, almost muggy. Archie stood quickly slamming the chair backwards. A rigid hand slapped his shoulder. The rage and anger swelled out but control drifted away. He stood as if locked to the floor and tried to scream.
Nefoussi wrinkled his brow. The nanites delved deeper.
*
William’s cabin was just wide enough to touch his fingertips against each wall. The lights blinked once, twice, and came on fully. The cushion on the single built in chair betrayed the true age of the ship. Old enough for the decor to be out of fashion.
He laid down on the narrow sliver of a bed and stretched out. The opposite wall was nothing but storage space. His storage space. The thought made him happy, until he realized that he had nothing to put inside.
Men and women bustled past the slender door snapping heads in and taking a quick glance. The room was in between the bridge and the main commons area, the perfect place to observe traffic. He simply watched them pass with a serious face.
He raised the tablet over his head and took in the operations details. The micromanaging angered him, but the Captain had a point. This was his first time as an XO. The ship had a small crew, and not much besides the basics. No science crew, no diplomats, no guests. He was pleased to keep the bullshit down.
The Army Lieutenant was on his mind. The man didn’t look happy with the situation. He’d have to break the chain of command to him softly. The order of Naval and ground command was still unusual. The breakdown of who ran a command when Naval vessels were involved still confused him. If it was docked, or in action, William was above in the chain. If they were on the ground and the ship was not in action Yamaguchi was. But not always.
William didn’t want to step in and tell the man what to do. He had no right regardless of his time after the crash of the Lawrence.
Time passed quickly. William tabbed through the operations manual. Much of it was familiar and the sections that weren’t made sense enough. He began typing out his plan for the Captain’s approval.
The chime jolted him out of his thoughts. He snapped his eyes up from the tablet and saw a Marine standing at ease in front of his door. “Yes?”
“The Captain requires you on the bridge, sir.”
*
The Captain was peering at the main nav console when William walked on the bridge. She turned her head and regarded him for a moment before returning to the view. He stood at a respectful distance with the tablet tucked under his arm.
“Mr. Grace, you made an impression in the cargo hold,” Captain Khan said. She patted the Navigator on the shoulder and walked over to William. “We’re having a briefing in ten minutes, all hands, I need you to take the bridge.”
“Yes, ma’am.” William nodded. He could handle the bridge, according to the schedule they had a blink coming up soon. “May I inquire to the briefing?”
Captain Khan began to walk out. “It’ll be on the screen.”
William nodded to himself and turned to the rest of the bridge. Heads snapped back to the consoles. Maybe she was being brief, not wanting to repeat herself, but he was feeling left out.
He sat down in an unused chair at the weapons console and looked down at the Captain’s chair. He had no urge to sit there yet, not ‘til he knew more about Captain Khan. The console popped on and he tabbed it across to show a feed of the commons area.
The alarm chimed. “All hands not on essential duty please report to the commons.”
The room seemed even smaller on the console screen. It looked to be far past overflowing by the time the Captain began. The wide angle view made the room appear circular like they were in a miniature stadium.
“Two days ago the docking stations across the Lagrange points suffered a grievous assault. Nanite weapons were activated inside seven of our major Naval installations. Four of the major Naval stations around the solar system were hit simultaneously. Two stations survived because the nanites failed to reach critical mass. We have not, as of yet, determined the origin.”
Chins raised and arms crossed. There was a shift of posture among the crew as the news settled in.
“Besides the stations, the losses were minimal. The frigates Agamemnon, Trident, Sao Paulo and Omaha were destroyed, along with the Cruiser Brie. The heavy drop ship Chicago was heavily damaged, but the nanites were contained.”
William leaned in closer to the console. He looked at the screen for reactions and saw nothing but stone. The thought that this was a coordinated attack solidified his thoughts on war. This wasn’t just posturing, it was a surprise attack.
“The mission will continue. Life will go on, people. As you can imagine there is a lot happening, most of which I don’t even know.” Captain Khan set the tablet down. She placed her foot on a bench and leaned forward onto her knee. “This will not go unpunished.”
Heads nodded and the commons room relaxed. The tension had been released. Even watching from the bridge William could tell that a shift had occurred. He had sensed the tension, the worry, the unknown.
“Ain’t that da shit,” the petty officer at the nav station murmured.
William looked up. The meager bridge crew were all watching the same thing. He tabbed over and scanned the local readout.
The display was like a spoked wheel. Ships trajectories were spindly strands of light coming or going. The delicate tracks led to either planets, or one of the remaining Lagrange stations. Wide orbital tracks traced the residences of the asteroid mines. The solar system teemed with life.
The view shifted again as he ran further and found those unmarked spaces. In seafaring day they would have drawn monsters and serpents. He floated the cursor and saw stars with numerical names, stars that hadn’t been explored yet. He felt a tug, a wish to be out exploring.
Before he realized he browsed to Redmond. The data was sparse. Celestials, and a brief paragraph on recent contact. One of the three grav points around Redmond was highlighted in red as a “potential hazard.”
He snapped out of the daydreaming and
began to work on the tablet. Captain Khan would be expecting some details and he’d have to get on it.
The day-to-day workings of the Malta was mostly preordained. The United Colonies Navy laid forth the basics. Watches, rotations, and methods were standardized. The Captain had the power to override these, but it was rare. Watches were rotated every six hours. The ship contained three watches of fourteen per watch.
William focused his energy on approving menus, exercise schedules, and billets. The Malta was functioning before he arrived so he decided to stick with the current setup. One spot of interest was the entertainment ration. The Captain had forbidden nanite narcotics but allowed alcohol.
“Where’d you come from last, XO?” the petty officer asked William. It took him a moment to acknowledge, he wasn’t used to being called XO.
“Hmm? Last duty station was the Lawrence, though I’ve been on Earth a bit.” William decided not to get into the story, he had the watch rotation on his mind. There were a few changes he’d like the Captain to approve.
“Not familiar with that one. I started out on the Horn and from there came to the Malta.” The petty officer looked quite proud of himself. He tapped at his console and turned back to William. “I was there at Tunis.”
William looked up and smiled. “Career then?”
“Oh hell no sir. I’m gaining points for my veteran’s preference. Then I’ll run a nice barge and make my money hauling.”
William nodded. Most men who wanted to serve came for the preference. It allowed for colony points, or preference in contracts and bidding. Each year earned more points. Enough points could get you a prime plot on a new colony, or early bids on Naval salvage.
“XO, we’ll be ready to make the blink in fifteen minutes.”
William nodded and tabbed over to the comms system. “Ma’am, we’ll be transiting in fifteen.”
“Very well Mr. Grace, announce final data drop, beam it out. I’ll be up.”
William relayed the message to all hands and watched as the incoming data packet swelled. Before the blink out of the solar system every starship made, and received, a final data dump. The golden age of letter writing had returned.
Captain Khan walked onto the bridge quietly and nodded to William. “Call the ship to stations, please, Mr. Grace.”
In a short minute every weapon was primed, grav fields were placed online and damage control crews spread out. The sound of bulkheads locking thudded through the ship. Marines appeared as if from nowhere in full body armor and stood watch in the corners. William was impressed how quickly it happened.
The blink was just that, a subtle shift and the starfield was different. The passive scans slowly ticked in as minutes passed by. They were now well past the comet and ice belt known as the Oort Cloud. The ship stood down and they began crossing the first of many interstellar grav peaks.
“Mr. Grace, do you have recommendations?” Captain Khan asked.
“Yes, ma’am.” William stood and walked over with the slate.
“Send them to my console, I’ll review them when I have time,” she said dismissively. Her hands danced on the console.
William nodded slowly. “Very well, ma’am.”
“Your watch is on in four hours, Mr. Grace,” she said without looking back.
He waited a moment and passed off the bridge, stewing silently.
CHAPTER FIVE
Profile
The Malta settled into a routine of subtle boredom, also known as professionalism. The starship rotated through watches as the inky blackness passed by. Each blink brought them across another gravity wave trough. With it came an even longer transit across the peak.
When the ship exited a blink they would scan passively, followed by an active scan across a wide range of spectrums. The watch would stand ready with systems ready to deploy to defend, or attack. Normally nothing happened.
The ship was quiet, subdued, relaxed. Every ship took on its own feel. Some were mellow, almost like a civilian freighter, while others took on a sense of urgency and tension.
Combat only came in two ways. One was immediately after a blink, the second after watching it approach for days, sometimes weeks. The jump engagement was quite rare. Every ship would make a slight course correction followed by a return to course. Following a blink the ship would exit in a slightly different point. The Haydn drive ignored the starting point as long as the travel was perpendicular to the gravity wave.
The most common style of engagement was two starships eyeing each other like boxers in opposite corners. Depending on velocity it was possible to turn and run, or shift and pass by. Engagements were a fairly rare occurrence, even the largest ship could be thoroughly destroyed by a small frigate if the velocities and weapons landed just right. Though normally the largest ship with the best shields and largest weapons prevailed.
In the latter case it wasn’t uncommon for two ships to stare each other down for a week. In a few cases, communications between the two occurred, with almost cheerful banter between the sides. As if each ship wanted to remind the other that vacuum was the most lonely of things.
William settled in slowly. The tone of the Captain traveled through the ship like an oily slick. He found himself on the defensive in nearly every situation as the crew challenged his authority in subtle ways. For if he didn’t have the approval of the Captain, why should they obey?
The main console that hung above the bridge showed simple icons for the status of the ship. Functioning systems were a bright green, systems that were on standby a dim yellow, with offline systems red.
Each of the watch stations would contain more in depth information about each subsystem, although the officer of the watch would focus on simply the main screen and request information if more was needed.
The remainder of his time was spent learning the routines and rituals required by Captain Khan. For one hour per watch she required all shipboard entertainment to be turned off. A single hour of “quiet” time was observed.
William, at first, bristled against the practice but found it to be quite relaxing in the long run. The day’s tension added to the availability of entertainment was a definite stress multiplier. The stories that came out in that time were quite amazing. The tough part was sorting out the fiction from the truth. Sometimes a story didn’t have to be fact for it to be true.
The commons room was a combination of a small town diner and a sports bar. One section was definitely for eating, while the other was more social, relaxed, with couches and plush chairs. On the far wall a single large screen flickered with images. A pack of Marines were jeering at the screen with slender controllers in their hands.
William sat at a small aluminum table and spooned down his dinner. The rice like bits of pasta were particularly satisfying with fresh shiitake mushrooms grown in engineering. He couldn’t help but eavesdrop on a booth of petty officers sitting across from him.
“So I’m sitting in Sydney watchin’ the Redmond clock and they shows the new star. Bugger is a damn long ways off. Ya know,” Thomas Greer cocks his head and shrugs. “I get the message and off I go, two year rotation.”
“What colony?”
“Well, we only knew it by the number, GJ and a bunch.”
“I didn’t know of any recent ones that went to GJ anything.”
“This is my story, yes? You weren’t even in training yet.” He paused. “So, we pack up and blink through seven star systems.”
“Wait, last time it was five?”
“My story! My story! Just sit and listen, eh?”
William glanced around and saw others watching. It was more than just looks of passing curiosity.
“We go, and we go, and we go. We’ve got a freighter of the old style fuel pellets following that cut loose two thirds of the way. They gonna sit and wait, wait for us.” He cleared his throat. “We blink into the star system and there it is, a beautiful blue and green marble. There’s an elevator, there’s a spectrum from the planet showing nice O2, the
re’s even a delicate little moon. Nice, eh?”
“What was the name of this colony again?”
Greer continued ignoring the question. “So we ping ‘em, nothing. We blink in closer and ping again. Nothing. Maybe the comms are out, or maybe it didn’t work. Then we blink closer and slowboat our way in.”
The room was now silent, even the Marines had stopped the game and were listening to Greer.
“The Marines gear up and we dock. Colony ship looks fine. They pop the doors and head on in. She’s empty, the usual, whoever was on the ground has everything. The seal is still on the elevator, no one went down.” Greer spread his hands apart slowly for effect.
“How did you know they just didn’t seal it back up?” Tinibu asked.
Paulo interceded. “Once the colonists go down they can’t go back up. The final load brings the elevator up and they’re stuck until the eighty years pass.”
“As I was saying, we break the seal and the Marines go down. Gun drones, this was before they had striders like they do now. They pop the doors on the ground and,” Greer clapped his hands together. “Nothing.”
“Nothing?” Tinibu asked.
“Not a person. Not a cow. Now a single animal. The colony modules are laid out. The buildings are built, the terraforming is rolling, and there isn’t a soul in sight.”
“Bodies? Must’ve been bones or something?” Punjav asked.
“Nope. Nothing. The Marines spread out, they’re all quarantined on the planet now. Ain’t no on going up ’til they know what happened.”
“What’d they do yo?” a Marine PFC named Kelton asked.
Greer leaned back in the booth and spread his arms out. “They searched. Whoever came down unloaded everything. They popped the shelters, opened the containers, and did, well, something. But poof—gone, man. Gone.”
“That’s it?” Tinibu asked excitedly.
“Yeah, that’s it. The Marines came up and got the most thorough medical exam ever and we left.” Greer shrugged. “We leave and they seal up that colony ship, robot welder crawled onto every seam and torched them all shut. We dropped a beacon and blinked our way back.”
Edge of Solace (A Star Too Far) Page 5