Fighting the Silent (The Dark Sea War Chronicles Book 1)

by Bruno Martins Soares

  I almost laughed with her.

  “Byl,” I answered.

  “Do you mind if I call you Byl? You can call me Mira when we’re alone.”

  “Sure.”

  She kept surprising me. That was completely off protocol. It was the kind of exchange we would never have had in the Navy where the hierarchy was so obvious. A Captain would never be on first name basis. But she did call me Byl, and I did call her Mira. When we were alone. That day, when she left, she took a finger to her forehead, smiled and said: “You have the bridge, X.O.”

  That small change didn’t elude me. For the first time, I really felt I was a merchant. And for some reason, I didn’t feel bad about it.

  *

  On the third day, I found myself almost anxious for her arrival. And I managed a smile when she came by. And we started talking almost immediately. And after a while, we started learning about one another.

  “I had a little boat called Ghendy.” She said, her smile wide and her eyes gazing into the outside void. “My grandfather gave it to me on my tenth birthday. I used to sail in the Olony Lake almost all year round. I would sail for hours almost every day. My mother worried, of course, but there was nothing she could do. After I grew up a little more, I started to sail in the summer nights.”

  She looked to the Space around us, comfortably.

  “In the dark of the lake, the stars seemed my special companions. I invented names for each of them. Proper names, like Bary or Steev, not the star map names. That’s when I decided to join the Navy. “

  I followed her gaze and smiled a little as well. I knew what she meant. She looked at me and frowned a bit.

  “I thought my father would be proud, but he wasn’t. He actually forbade it.”

  She gave a little laugh.

  “That was a mistake. For both of us. I ran away when I was 16 and joined the merchants. That was my mistake, I guess. You wouldn’t believe how bad they can be to 16-year-old girls. I was lucky to have a good mentor, Captain Hay. Without her to protect me, I don’t know…”

  Her eyes said everything. It had been bad. She lifted her chin.

  “When I was 17, my father found me and sponsored my entrance into the Space-Navy Academy. I graduated at 19.”

  So she had military training… Why had she…?

  “So you were in the Navy?” I asked.

  “Yes.” She strokes her hair. “But when I said earlier that we needed assistance against an organized enemy, I was being honest. I’m not up-to-date on battle tactics and forgot most things I learned back there. I served only six months on a warship. Junior officer in a hull. But I knew the best I could hope for in the Navy was to be hull-captain, and I found that wasn’t enough. So I left and looked for a command of my own in merchants. With my record, it wasn’t difficult. I was a Captain when I was 21.”

  That was impressive. But I looked away, at a useless bleep on a screen, faking indifference. Why did I do that? Navy habits, maybe.

  “How about you?” She then said. “How did you get into the Navy?”

  I shrugged my shoulders.

  “Nothing so romantic, I’m afraid.”

  A shadow crossed her eyes.

  “My story? It didn’t feel romantic at all to me, believe me.”

  I straightened up, uncomfortably.

  “I know… I mean… I meant I didn’t have a particular infatuation with the stars, growing up, like you did. Not until I joined the Navy, anyway. I did like ships, but… well…”

  “You’re from Riddario, right?”

  “Yes. Vell Mountain, in fact. Yiggal Town. My mother had a furniture shop, and my father taught martial arts.”

  “No kidding? Which kind?”

  “Tzaido. He was a master of Tzaido.”

  “Did you practice?”

  “Yes. Since I was 5.”

  “You don’t look like the type, actually. No big muscles or anything.”

  “Tzaido is about speed and flexibility, not strength.”

  She stopped and looked at me from head to toe, for a moment. I think I might have blushed.

  “But we’re deviating.” She smiled, beautifully. “Tell me how you enlisted.”

  “My father died when I was 16. My mother remarried and sold the dojo, and so, when I was 17, I left and joined the Navy. I just couldn’t remain there.”

  She was surprised but recovered fast.

  “I understand,” she said.

  “I was accepted into the Academy, and the Navy became my home. I never looked back.”

  I had never explained my journey in this manner, to someone I hardly knew. But even though I felt my heart tremble for a second, it actually had been much easier than I would have imagined. I just had to tell her. I had to tell her about the death of my father, I had to tell her about the rejection of my mother. I saw her looking at me, pretending to be relaxed but fully aware of the impact of this conversation.

  “Do you still keep in touch with your mother?” She asked.

  “Yes. We talk once in a while, and I visited a couple of times. She is divorced now.”

  “I’m sure she’s glad to have you. Your enlisting must have been hard on her. And why haven’t you joined the Marines or the Army? They would love someone with your background, I’m sure. Martial Arts, mountain boy. What made you join the Navy?”

  “Exactly that, I guess. I didn’t want to be in close quarter combat. Nor kill anyone. At least up close.” Was I going too far too fast? Revealing too much? “And I wanted to know new planets and travel through Space, of course. And I did like ships.”

  She gave me a sad smile.

  “I understand. Tzaido can be deadly, I hear.”

  “Yes. Yes, it can.”

  She turned in her chair, to make it easier to face me.

  “Do you still practice?”

  “I used to. On the Magnar. Two or three times a week, with a marine I know. But I haven’t for a couple of months, now. Since…”

  Ghosts came back in a wave, and I stopped abruptly. She must have seen me go pale and picked up the whole story in my face.

  “Since the Orink incident?”

  I looked up at her. She knew. She knew about it. But how much did she know exactly?

  “Yes.”

  “What happened?”

  I looked into her eyes. She didn’t know everything. I had to be careful, here. I gave her the official version.

  “One of her engines malfunctioned in the Mirox, and she crashed into an asteroid. No one survived.”

  She blinked.

  “That’s what the papers say. The Navy’s version.”

  I blinked back.

  “It’s what happened.” I lied.

  She sat back. She looked outside. The sun appeared from above, for a moment, after a tiny automatic change of course. It was a small ball of light far up ahead, in the dark heart of emptiness.

  “I wanted to go back to the Navy, you know?” She said, lifting a blond curl from her eye. “When the war between Axx and Torrance started. When Torrance declared war. I wanted to go back. To be ready to fight. But my father was against it. He was afraid for me. And he threatened to stop me, call everyone he knew and stop me. And he would, you know? He is still powerful. So I said I’d volunteer. If there ever was to be a merchant convoy system to supply the torries, I’d volunteer. And he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop that. So I asked him a favor. Both because I needed it and because it would calm him down.”

  I looked at her. Her eyes out there. A ray of light shaping her perfect profile. Her peaceful face slightly twitching with a streak of determination. And then she turned to me and looked me in the eyes. And I trembled again. She said: “I asked him to get me some help. To get me a crew member, an outstanding First Officer, who would be smart, very competent, thought for himself, knew what he was doing, and, most of all, had experience in fighting Silent Boats.”

  I almost jumped. She smiled.

  “I know you have been feeling neglected and punished
for having been sent here to serve on a merchant ship. Not even a 1 million or a 900k, like some of your younger colleagues, but a 700k, even if it is a good one. Maybe you‘ve even resented being commanded by a woman. But you’re here because my dear father, a brilliant old Admiral, knows how to pick a good hand, and wanted to give me the best.”

  My heart stopped beating. What… What was she talking about? Was that true? Was she real? Had I been spotted and sponsored by a famous Admiral?

  “So, you see?” She continued. “You must have experience fighting a Silent. That’s what I asked for. And that’s why I don’t believe for a second that the Orink crashed against an asteroid.”

  Oh, she was so wonderful! So beautiful. So smart.

  “But that means that a Silent dared to defy the 2nd Fleet on this side of the Dark Sea and managed to ‘sink’ a destroyer.” Her smile died a little. “And you can be sure that that idea alone keeps me awake at night. And we’re not the 2nd Fleet. Not by a long shot.”

  And then I said it. I don’t know why I said it, maybe because at that moment she was as bright as a star. I don’t even know what I meant by it, even though I felt I meant the world. But I had to say it. It just came out.

  “That’s ok,” I said. “I’ll be here when they come.”

  And I meant it. Like I knew what to do. Like I could save us somehow. And her eyes widened with surprise. And we stood there. For a moment. We stood there looking into each other’s eyes. And she smiled that perfect smile. And then she sat back again, and looked away, with that peaceful look on her face and her smile still honestly lying there.

  “Thank you, Byl.” She said. “That means a lot.”

  I looked away as well. And we were in silence for a while. We watched the stars. Then, finally, she got up, she got closer, she put a hand on my arm. I felt so relaxed, suddenly. She smiled again.

  “You have the bridge, X.O.”

  I smiled back, reassuringly.

  “I have the bridge, Captain.”

  And then she left.

  *

  A few days later we approached the Mirox asteroid belt. On the bridges of every ship in that convoy, the full C-teams were on station, alert against asteroids and other debris, maybe fearing the edge of the frontier, a possible close encounter with a deadly enemy. When the convoy reached the first navigation buoy, a special surprise was waiting. The whole 2nd Fleet, now 14-ship strong, was there on guard, seeing us through.

  “The Ascim is issuing a general salute, Captain.” Said Zhany.

  The Captain nodded, sitting back in her high chair.

  “We’ll salute as we pass the flag.” She said.

  There they were. Several destroyers, two frigates, the supply ship, the repairer W.S. Pleeto, a new 74-battery 3rd class Warship, the W.S.Benavide, and the familiar heavyweights: the 90-battery 2nd class W.S.Taurus and the 70-battery 3rd class W.S.Viker. And finally, at the center of the formation, the massive W.S.Magnar, the 120-battery 1st class flagship. My old ship. Grey, red and green. Majestic.

  “Salute the flag, Zhany.”

  Mirany looked at me. Maybe trying to decode my feelings. I was sitting straight in my chair, feeling homesick, ship-sick, but not really knowing if I’d rather be there or here (next to her – there was a strange little voice in the back of my head whispering «next to her»).

  “Salute issued, Captain.”

  I avoided eye contact with Mirany. Focused on the fleet. On the Magnar. I really missed it.

  “The Magnar returns the salute, Captain.”

  “Very well.”

  “They also sent a message to Lieutenant Iddo, Captain.”

  Zhany’s words hit me like a rock. A good rock. This was off protocol. Now I looked at Mirany, a bit embarrassed. She raised an eyebrow, in a movement I didn’t really understand (Jealousy? Irritation? Curiosity?) “Go on.” She commanded.

  “It’s an encrypted message, Captain.”

  Mirany smiled.

  “Just deliver it, Zhany.”

  Zhany looked at me, uncomfortable. I must have been completely stiff, my curiosity paralyzing every muscle. An encrypted message?

  “It says YVNOK.”

  YVNOK? I must have looked puzzled because Zhany spelled it.

  “Y-V-N-O-K, sir.”

  I knew what it was. It was a level 4 coded message. A simple substitution code we used in the Navy for very low-level messages. And I knew what it meant. Even without a key. Even without the Magnar’s key (each ship had its own). It was a standard message. That only I would be able to recognize aboard the Harvy. It meant PRAYC. Please Report At Your Convenience.

  I looked at Mirany. I was feeling quite peaceful suddenly, and I must have been smiling because she smiled me back. She said:

  “You can reply, if you want, Mr.Iddo.”

  I knew what the message was saying. Admiral Hedde was telling me I could return whenever I wanted. He was reminding me I was still Navy. No matter where I went. No matter what happened. No matter which ship I was in… I could go back.

  I turned to Zhany.

  “Just acknowledge in my name, if you please, Zhany.”

  “Very well.” She hit the keys in her console. “Acknowledged, X.O.”

  “Thank you, Zhany.”

  *

  The passage through the Mirox, as it turned out, went on without incident. Soon we were navigating in the Dark Sea. The fleet had been left far behind, and we were now flying in convoy formation, two parallel lines, straight through the vast empty space.

  Nothing really happens in the Dark Sea. There’s nothing there. No planets, no moons, a few very isolated asteroids, no planemos, no dwarf planets, nothing. It’s just empty space between two asteroid belts and two highly populated areas of the solar system. Theoretically, it should have been the safest place to travel. In practice, it was just the opposite.

  *

  Two days into the Dark Sea crossing. I was on the bridge with Zhany and Rock. Things were calm. The shift was going according to plan. We had a small glitch in Hull 6’s gravity generator, which caused a bit of a fuss, but it was quickly resolved, and otherwise, nothing major was going on.

  My attention was on the black void. A meditation of some kind. All my usual duties had been fulfilled, and now all I had to do was babysit the bridge. Not that it needed it, though. Zhany and Rock knew their jobs top to toe.

  Zhany’s console showed a blink. Some sort of a blink. And I happened to see it. I used to be Signals so… I didn’t ignore it.

  “Was that a warning, Zhany?”

  Zhany looked at her screen.

  “Well, if it was it’s not there now, X.O. Probably a false.”

  Oh, no. That didn’t do it for me. I approached her station.

  “What was it?”

  “It came from the Loghi, sir,” She answered. “A relay from one of her probes. But it wasn’t confirmed.”

  “What heading?”

  “10 and 10.”

  “Level?”

  “11.”

  Loghi was the escort frigate on the port flank. I looked to the left. Couldn’t see her, of course.

  “Ask them to confirm it,” I ordered.

  Zhany was taken aback.

  “It was one blink, sir. I’m sure it was another false alarm.”

  I raised my eyebrow.

  “Has it happened before?”

  “A couple of times in the last 20 hours or so…”

  Now I was worried.

  “Ask the Loghi to confirm the contact.”

  “But X.O….”

  “Just do it, Zhany!”

  “Yes, sir.”

  I looked at Rock. His face was troubled. I got back to my chair, opened a compartment next to it and took a pair of powerful electronic binoculars. The Harvy didn’t have fancy sensors so many times these specially linked binoculars were the best we had to look around us. I put the strap around my neck and got back to Zhany.

  “Show me the convoy on the primary display.”

 
She did as she was told and I looked up at the large screen. The formation was linear and very steady. No one was reacting to the contact. I looked through the binoculars. With a touch of the fingers, I connected them to the onboard computer and asked to enhance the Loghi’s position to the left. A circle of green light showed me the position of the frigate, a little dot of reflected light in the dark. I looked at 10-o’clock-high, 10-and-10, asking the binoculars to enhance any reflection close enough, but of course, they didn’t pick up anything. I looked straight ahead. The Gera, a 500k merchant, was there. Her engines glowing, right in position. I went to the right-hand window and looked at our starboard side. Could see the Sodah, a 600k merchant, on our flank, close enough to see the bridge. Nothing was happening. But I wasn’t at peace. Something was happening. I just knew it.

  “The Loghi has confirmed a false alarm, X.O.” Said Zhany.

  I twisted my nose and slid down the metal stairs to the belly observatory. I used the binoculars to look towards the stern. I could see the Farcot right behind us, way back in position. And another ship behind it. The Haarly. Nothing else. The rear escort Corvette had been dispatched to help a laggard. But was anything else out there? Maybe I was exaggerating. Maybe the Orink incident got me to imagine things. I sighed and climbed the stairs back to the bridge. Both Rock and Zhany looked at me, concerned. Maybe because they thought I was wrong, and I was just going crazy. Maybe because they thought I was right, and something dangerous was out there. I looked at Zhany’s screen.

  “Any other blinks?”

  “No, sir.”

  We watched the screen together for a while. Nothing.

  “Probably a false.” I conceded. I took the strap off my neck and sat back on my chair, the binoculars resting on my knees. I was thinking. It just took another five or six minutes.

  “X.O.!” Zhany put the new contact on primary. 9 and 9, Level 9. It was there just for a second, but now I knew it wasn’t a false.

  “Call the Captain, Zhany. Get everybody up here.”

  She hit the keys. Rock looked at me, I looked at him.

  “If it comes, Rock, we need to move fast.”

  Rock nodded. We were on the same page.

  Mira took three minutes to get there. Kritia and Loly took two more. Kritia took the Weapons station, and Loly took the sensor screen from Zhany. I briefed them. There was a small concerned wrinkle in Mirany’s forehead.