by Neal Jones
Jerren –
Goodbye, mother. Jerren walked out of the house and left homeworld. His mother would be arriving in five days, and he hadn't said one word to her since that night six years earlier. He had only spoken to his sisters on rare occasions since, and he was sure that the ambassador would bring with her a communiqué or two from them. Jerren laid down his pad and sat back in his chair, glancing around the table.
Saveck appeared as stoic and calm as ever. He was sitting to the immediate right of the table's head, and Zar couldn't be sure but he thought the major looked more comfortable in the chair he was in now. The one opposite him was empty, and that was presumably where Commander Decev would sit. When Zar was conducting his background checks on the commodore, the chief science officer and the new CMO, he saw that Gabriel and Decev had served together previously on the E.C.S. Tokyo, towards the end of the war. Rumor had it that they had been close friends back then, but that they hadn't spoken to one another since the funeral of Decev's husband eleven years ago.
The doctor was reviewing some notes on his compad, and opposite him sat Commander Garrett. He, too, was reviewing something on his pad, probably the report which he had promised Gabriel yesterday at the docking port. Zar was very interested to hear what the engineer and his crew had uncovered thus far, and he turned to glance at Lieutenant Sikandra who had her hands folded on the table, covering up her compad. That was just like her, always ready before the meeting started, never needing to review her latest analysis or her notes on whatever tactical issue she had been asked to report on. Jerren liked her, thought that she was an excellent tactical officer, and she also was the only member of the station's crew whom he thought to be a skilled jomdrin player. Jomdrin was an Orethian game that was similar to poker, but required much more cunning and skill in order to win the pot.
The doors opened, and Gabriel and Decev entered, both looking a little bleary-eyed and worn. The security chief took a small measure of satisfaction that he hadn't been the only one to suffer insomnia last night. The commodore stood at the head of the table and nodded to his senior staff.
"Good morning, everyone. Mister Garrett, I will open this meeting with your report."
The chief engineer nodded as Gabriel sat. Garrett inputted a series of commands into his compad, and the holo-interface embedded into the table came to life, projecting an image of the Haal'Chai raider. "This is only a preliminary report. My team is just now dissecting the stardrive assembly. What we have learned so far is that the assembly is far more advanced than standard Chrisarii technology. For example, this section of the assembly –" he highlighted a small, square box with a pair of slim cables protruding from one side – "is the power generator for the disruptor array. Our analysis shows that it's capable of a level twelve force rating."
Zar was not the only one who let out a gasp of astonishment. A delta class starship's pulse disruptor array was capable of a level ten force rating. The fact that a ship as small as a raider possessed a weapons armament that was more powerful than that of the Dauntless was impossible, and the security chief said so.
Garrett nodded his agreement. "This is the only analysis result we have thus far, and my team is hoping to have the entire assembly dismantled by seventeen hundred tomorrow. However, it might take longer because we're obviously dealing with a very advanced system. Everything is interconnected – weapons, stardrive, deflectors – all of it is tied into this primary assembly, and it might be as long as three days before we can have the entire thing broken down into its base elements. It's like trying to piece together a jigsaw puzzle without having the picture on the box. We're also trying to conduct extensive analyses as we go, to determine exactly what's connected where and why."
"A level twelve force rating would explain why they were able to overpower our deflector grids so quickly," Saveck observed. "It also appears that each raider is equipped with twice as many disruptor nodes as one would expect for a ship this size."
"You're right," the chief engineer said. "These ships should have torn themselves apart under the stress of battle. The hull is too thin, and our metallurgical analysis can't identify several of its base elements. The stardrive core is way too small to support a power output for an armament of this magnitude. Somehow, something in this assembly is compensating for all those factors, and it's given the Haal'Chai an extreme edge."
"Which brings us to the main question," Decev interjected. "They have the capability to destroy this station. So why are they keeping us in one piece?"
Gabriel leaned forward, his gaze fixed upon the holo-image rotating slowly above the table. "Since the pilots killed themselves before being captured, I have an alternate plan that might get us some answers." He turned to Saveck. "Major, are you in contact with anyone inside Chrisarii Central Intelligence?"
Saveck frowned as he replied, "No, but there are probably one or two of my superior officers who are. Why do you ask?"
"I want you to get in touch with someone from CI as soon as possible. I want to know if they’ve already tried to infiltrate the Haal'Chai using undercover agents. I'm betting they have, but there was nothing with Hazen's report regarding this plan of action, and I think that sending two of our own people will be the quickest method of learning the truth behind these attacks."
"Who did you have in mind?" Decev asked.
"Lieutenant Sikandra, do you have any training in covert tactical missions of this nature?"
The Chrisarii blinked, startled by the question but quickly replied, "Yes, sir, I have some experience. However, to succeed with this type of mission, I would need to coordinate closely with someone from CI, and it would take at least two weeks to gather all the necessary information. With Major Saveck's help I could probably get what I need in nine days, maybe less."
"Wouldn't it make more sense for the major to go?" Rosenberg asked.
Gabriel shook his head. "Since taking command of Exxar-One, Major Saveck is too well known, and so are you, lieutenant." He glanced at Sikandra. "But not as much as the major. Not only that, the president and the ambassadors are expecting to meet with me and Saveck, and I want this mission launched in six days. Lieutenant, it will be necessary to undergo some cosmetic surgery to alter your appearance, and I'd like the other officer on this mission to be someone from your department, krael." The commodore turned to Zar.
The security chief answered almost immediately. "You want an EarthCorps officer?" Gabriel nodded. "Lieutenant Navarr specialized in covert tactical ops during her training at the Academy. She's the best candidate on my staff for this type of mission."
Gabriel glanced at Rosenberg. "Doctor, how long would it take to alter Sikandra's and Navarr's appearances?"
"The actual procedure would only take a few hours for Navarr, even less for Sikandra. They would need at least a day of recovery to fully adapt, so six days would be plenty of time."
"Good. Perform the surgeries tomorrow." He glanced at the two Chrisarii. "The three of you will devote your full time to this mission. Keep me updated with daily reports. Mister Zar, what is the status of your security measures for the president's visit?"
"Everything is in place, and thus far I have not had any problems. I have taken every precaution possible and then some, and I expect no trouble during his stay." He extracted a disc from his pad and slid it across the table to the commodore. "This is a status report."
"Good." Gabriel palmed the disc and slipped it into his breast pocket. "I have one final item that I want all of you to make clear to your respective department personnel." He took a moment of silence, and his staff waited patiently. "In two days I will rescind my order restricting all off duty personnel to their quarters. However, any officer who is involved in any kind of altercation will be facing a full courts-martial." He paused once more. "We are professional military officers, ladies and gentlemen, and I expect disciplined behavior from my crew. I will be more than happy to make an example of as many as soldiers as necessary in order to get my point across. Is th
at clear?"
A murmured chorus of "Aye, sir's" answered him, along with a round of nods.
Gabriel stood. "Good. Dismissed. Mister Zar, please stay for a moment."
The DrayH'M waited calmly, watching the commodore as the others left the room. Gabriel sat, folding his hands on the table and studied his compad. When the door closed behind the last officer, he looked up at his chief of security.
"Please have Lieutenant Navarr report to my office as soon as you're finished briefing her. That's all." He returned his attention to his pad.
Zar didn't show his surprise as he stood. "Yes, sir."
When he left, Gabriel glanced at the door for just a moment and then refocused his attention on the personnel files of his senior staff.
( 2 )
Lieutenant Christine Navarr squared her shoulders as she walked out of the PTL and across the vast expanse of OpCon – the shortened informal name often used for the command deck. She'd heard many things about Exxar-One's new commanding officer, most of them contradictory. Some said that he'd butchered an entire Chrisarii crew in cold blood, others said that he had saved the same Chrisarii crew from the actions of his commanding officer. One especially popular tale affirmed that he'd fought a Chrisarii assault squad when the Tokyo was boarded during the battle of Ashoss. In the twenty-four hours since the commodore had been aboard the station, he'd already pissed off half the crew by not looking the other way while Chrisarii and EarthCorps officers battled each other in bar brawls while off duty. The other half admired him and respected him solely on the basis of his reputation – and that of his father's.
Lieutenant Navarr had no opinion either way. She was in her second year at the Academy when the peace treaty between the Chrisarii Alliance and the Interstellar Federation of Peace was signed. For her, the Beta Erendii War was something distant, an event that was occurring far away from the safety and security of Earth and Galadreon-253. She had no family or close friends serving in the military. Her only reason for enlisting was to escape her parents and their demands that she do something with her life. What Warren and Beatrice Navarr had in mind was a university or, at the very least, a good vocational school. So Christine had signed up for the Naval Academy, and she hadn't been home since graduation.
But once she had a taste of what the military could offer – mainly in the way of weapons and tactical warfare – she couldn't get enough. She chose Combat and Security Operations as her major for the simple thrill that it gave her to hold a live weapon in her hand. The days that she spent on the bombing range were like vacation, and she soaked up every piece of weapons knowledge that she could get her hands on. Navarr was one of the few cadets who spent their off duty hours in the library reading tech manuals. She had no time - nor the desire - for a social life, and she was the only cadet from her squad to pass her weapons range skills test with a perfect score. Admiral Lopez had personally selected her for covert tactical ops training based on the glowing recommendations of Navarr's professors, and she was eager to put those skills to the test with this mission, the first of its kind in her career.
Navarr pressed the door chime, and a muffled "Come in" answered it. She walked into the commodore's office and stopped two feet inside the threshold. Gabriel was standing behind his desk, and he returned her salute before motioning to the chair in front of the desk.
"Have a seat, lieutenant."
Navarr obeyed.
"Would you like some coffee?"
"No thank you, sir. Two cups before lunch is my limit." It was a lame attempt to make a joke and mask her nervousness, but Gabriel didn't seem to mind.
He smiled as he walked to the food dispenser and got a cup for himself. As he carried it to his desk, Navarr chided herself for her stupidity. If a senior officer offers you a cup of coffee, you take it. You don't say no. Of course, it would look even worse if she now asked for a cup so she sat straight in her chair, hands folded in her lap, and waited patiently for the commodore to seat himself and sip his coffee.
Gabriel hid his smile behind the rim of his cup. If Navarr forced her back any straighter, she would snap her spine. Her gaze was glued to a distant point beyond the viewport behind his desk, and her attempt to keep her expression neutral was only half working. She was clearly anxious at being summoned to the commanding officer's ready room, but she was also as eager as a kid on Christmas morning to launch her mission. Gabriel had been pleased with what he'd read in Navarr's personnel file, and he was happy with Zar's choice for this particular mission.
Now it was time to see how well she could read between the lines when given a specific set of orders.
Gabriel cleared his throat as he set down his cup, and Navarr caught the hint. Her gaze snapped back to him as he leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs. "Lieutenant, I've been reading your personnel file. You've received very high marks from your professors at the Academy, and Captain Maxwell said that you were the best tactical officer he'd ever served with."
Navarr tried to hide her blush, but the heat that swelled in her cheeks told her she'd failed. "Thank you, sir. I take my job – and my uniform - very seriously."
"Good. That's a quality that I like to see in all my officers." He paused, casting an appraising glance over the young woman once more. "This mission has some...unique requirements. I realize that you never served in the war, that you've never fought the Chrisarii. In fact, I'm willing to wager that you never met one in person until arriving on this starbase."
"Yes, that's true, sir. It would also be fair to say that I don't have any prejudice against them. We were at war. Now we're at peace. Our respective governments have declared a truce, and all war crimes have been dealt with accordingly." Navarr knew she was probably rambling, but she forced herself to continue anyway. "I firmly believe in this station, sir, in the reasons for its construction and its existence. And anyone who would jeopardize that is now the enemy, whether they wear my uniform or a Chrisarii's. I will do whatever it takes to succeed on this mission and learn the truth." She stopped and swallowed, hoping that Gabriel wouldn't smile at her like a father who looks down his young child and pities them for their naïveté and ignorance.
Gabriel didn't smile. He looked at Navarr with a stoic expression as he considered her words. "I'm pleased to hear that, lieutenant. And just so we're clear, you have the authority to use whatever it takes to make this mission succeed." He sat forward, placing his hands on his desk, holding Navarr's gaze with his own. "You may use any means necessary."
"Yes, sir."
Navarr was clearly not getting it, and she was doing her best to mask her perplexed expression. That was fine with Gabriel. She would get it eventually, if his suspicions about some of the Chrisarii officers assigned to this station proved to be correct. If not, then no harm was done.
"That's all. Dismissed."
"Yes, sir." Navarr stood and saluted before she walked out of the office. As she crossed the command deck once more, she thought about Gabriel's reputation and the tales that were being told about him among the station's crew. As she stepped into the PTL she decided that all of them were true.
And that none of them were true.
( 3 )
Commander Decev walked into her quarters and began unzipping her uniform jacket. She tossed it on the back of the easy chair on her way to her son's bedroom. All was quiet, and it meant one of two things: either Josh had his headphones on, or he wasn't home. To her great surprise, Mariah heard him say, "Come in" when she pressed the door chime.
Joshua Decev was at his desk, typing on his computer's keypad. He didn't glance away from the screen as he said, "Hi. What's for dinner?"
"I was about to ask you the same thing. I told you to heat up something in the food processor at five. It's after six."
"Oh, yeah, sorry. I have homework."
Mariah blinked, certain that this boy was an alien replica and not her son. "You're actually doing homework?" She walked around his bed so she could look over his shoulder. He was doing m
ath. It wasn't a trick or an illusion. He was really doing homework!
"Mom, do you mind? I'm kinda busy. Tell me when dinner's ready."
She bumped him on the back of his head with her palm. "I'm your mother, not your slave. You'll address me with respect."
"Fine. Please tell me when dinner's ready."
"That's better."
A whole conversation! Mariah couldn't believe she'd just had a whole conversation with her son, and while his tone and manners weren't exactly civil, it was more than what she'd received from him in two months.
Baby steps, Mar, she told herself. Baby steps.
Maybe this new assignment was just what Joshua needed.
( 4 )
While the Dauntless was docked at Exxar-One, Marc had been staying in Karri's quarters. For the second night in a row, he was late, but she didn't mind. She knew that once they arrived at the station, he would have his hands full, and the best she could do for him would be to stay out the way. She sprinkled the last of the seasoning on the Shepherd's Pie and slid it into the oven. The timer was set and it would be ready by twenty-one hundred. If Marc were home by then, Karri would eat it with him. If not, there was always a boxing match or a football game on one of the dozens of sports channels that were piped into this sector through the galactic cable satellite network.
What Karri did mind, however, was the fact that her boyfriend had been late last night because he stopped at Commander Decev's quarters on the way home. And he had not arrived empty handed, according to the rumors that had circulated among the Dauntless crew this afternoon. He had walked in with a bottle of Scotch and left without it. Before putting together the Shepherd's Pie, Karri had looked up Decev's personnel file and discovered that she had served with Gabriel on the Tokyo thirteen years ago. Rumor was that they had been closer than friends - even though Mariah had been married to Paul Decev – and that after Paul's death eleven years ago, Mariah and Marc had had a falling out.