by Ryk Brown
* * *
Doctor Galloway ran down the corridor of the hospital and turned the corner, bursting through the double doors that led into the nanite therapy unit. She stopped short as she approached treatment bay four, the location of the code call. Inside she could see the code team working on Mister Abarta, doing everything they could to revive the husband and father of four, who had suffered from radiation exposure during the last bombardment of Earth by the Jung.
She watched for several minutes. She wanted to go in and help, but the room was already full of medical professionals who were trained for this particular situation. She knew that on Corinair, the patient had a far better chance of survival, but she was forced to work with what they had available to them on Earth. In many cases, it was better to let the medical professionals of Earth provide the care, as despite the fact that their medical technologies were inferior to that of Corinair, they had far more experience operating with what they had available.
Soon the efforts ceased, and the code team started filing out of the treatment bay, to be replaced by those who handled the bodies of the deceased. She looked at Doctor Hammond, the young doctor with whom she had worked closely for the last few weeks, as he came out of Mister Abarta’s bay.
“Full systems failure,” Doctor Hammond said.
“I will need to examine the nanites still within him,” Doctor Galloway replied.
“I’ll see to it,” Doctor Hammond promised, continuing on to the exit.
Doctor Galloway turned and watched him go, then turned back to face treatment bay four. Mister Abarta lay there, motionless, his breathing tube still sticking out of his mouth, his IVs still connected to his arms and neck. All she could think about was that the man should have lived. His exposure, although severe, should have been healed by the nanites.
She could only pray that his death would ultimately reveal the cause of the nanite failures, and therefore prevent the scene from repeating itself again and again in the days and weeks to come.
* * *
Captain Navarro stepped out of his personal shuttle and onto the poorly lit tarmac at the Torrence spaceport. He looked about, pulling his collar up against the chilly night air. As usual, the tiny island of Torrence was shrouded in fog. He stepped forward, making room for three Ghatazhak soldiers to disembark as well, one of whom was an officer. The four of them began the short walk across the open pavement toward another shuttle in the distance.
The door on the other shuttle opened, and a well-dressed gentleman not much older than Navarro stepped out and began to walk toward him. “Captain Navarro,” the gentleman greeted.
“I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure,” Captain Navarro said as he approached.
“Names are not important,” the man replied. “However, if you require one, you may call me Illya.”
“I was told there was a matter of the utmost urgency to discuss,” Captain Navarro stated, one eyebrow raised.
“Odd that you should come in the company of such men,” the man called Illya stated, pointing at the Ghatazhak.
“These are dangerous times,” Captain Navarro stated. “One cannot be too careful, especially when asked to meet in a remote location, in clandestine fashion… and with a man known only as ‘Illya’.”
“I see your point,” Illya replied. “However, you have nothing to fear, my dear captain. Had my employers wished you dead, you would already be so.”
“Should I take that as a threat?” Captain Navarro wondered.
“Indeed, no. I am merely stating fact. Besides, what possible gain could there be by killing the captain of the Avendahl?”
“Or the murder of a young girl?”
“Collateral damage,” Illya replied.
“Perhaps you should say what you wish me to hear,” Navarro said, “or rather, what your employers wish me to hear.”
“I assume you are aware of recent events, so I shall not waste your time reviewing them. Suffice to say that a change is coming… a change both swift and sure.”
“What is this change to which you refer?”
“Legal concerns prevent me from speaking freely about such matters, lest I be labeled a conspirator. I am merely a messenger. However, this change will require all the noble houses of Takara to choose a side.”
“Meaning for, or against House Ta’Akar,” Navarro surmised.
“A logical assumption on your part, I’m sure.”
“You do realize that as an officer in service of Takara, I could arrest you for acts of treason?”
“I have committed no such offense,” Illya insisted. “I have merely made an observation based on current events and public opinion. One that includes those of my employers.”
“Regardless…”
“Arresting me would serve no purpose,” Illya said. “I am expendable. I would perish within minutes of my arrest, leaving you with nothing but explanations to make to the authorities, I’m afraid.”
Captain Navarro sighed. “I grow tired of the cold ocean air, and of your melodramatic conversational style, Mister Illya. Convey directly what your employers wish me to hear or be on your way.”
“Side with my employers, and you shall be handsomely rewarded. Side with House Ta’Akar, and your only reward shall be death. Death for you, and your entire house.”
Commander Erbe drew his sidearm in the blink of an eye, taking aim at Illya’s forehead. “Allow me the honor, my captain.”
Captain Navarro placed his hand on the top of Commander Erbe’s sidearm, pushing it gently downward. “You have delivered your message.” He looked Illya in the eyes. “Now it is time for you to leave.”
“Of course,” Illya replied, trying to be as gracious as possible. “Perhaps you have a message of your own for me to deliver to my employers?”
“You may tell your employers that Captain Suvan Navarro, leader of House Navarro and commander of the Avendahl, shall do what he believes to be the right thing for all of Takara, if and when such action becomes necessary. You may also tell your employers that any action against House Navarro will be met with the full force of the Avendahl, regardless of which ‘side’ takes such action.”
“As you wish, my lord.” Illya bowed politely and took several steps backward before turning around and boarding his shuttle.
Captain Suvan turned and headed back to his own shuttle.
“You should have let me kill the little bezatte,” Commander Erbe grumbled.
“I’m sure the opportunity will present itself again, Commander,” Captain Navarro said as he headed up the ramp to his shuttle, “and soon.”
* * *
Doctor Hammond looked at the clock on the wall of treatment bay seven. “That’s it, people. Time of death, fifteen twenty.” He pulled his gloves off as he headed for the door, tossing them into the bio-hazard receptacle by the door on his way out.
“That’s the fifth one in the last twenty-four hours,” Doctor Galloway said as Doctor Hammond approached.
“I have the results from Mister Abarta’s autopsy, Doctor,” the nurse said as she handed a data pad to Doctor Galloway.
Doctor Galloway took the data pad. “It’s about time.”
“They’re just as overloaded as we are,” Doctor Hammond said.
“Of course.” Doctor Galloway studied the results on the data pad, her eyes narrowing and her eyebrows furrowed.
“What is it?” Doctor Hammond asked, noticing her concerned expression.
“This is all wrong,” she said, as she began flipping through the pages on the data pad. “Nanite counts, composition, groupings… this doesn’t make sense. Some of them are still active.”
“Is that abnormal?”
“Once the body dies, the nanites are supposed to shut down.”
“Are you saying they’re trying to revive a dead man?”
“No, nothing like that. There’s no evidence that the nanites in Mister Abarta’s body ever did any repair work whatsoever.” She continued flipping through pages on the da
ta pad.
“That would mean they were all bad, right? How is that possible?”
“Oh, my God,” Doctor Galloway exclaimed, her eyes widening as she studied a close-up image of some of the nanites recovered during the autopsy. “These are not our nanites.”
“What?” Doctor Hammond’s mouth dropped open. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, these are not Corinairan nanites.”
“Then whose are they?”
Doctor Galloway looked at Doctor Hammond. “I do not know.”
* * *
“Captain, communications,” the voice called over the intercom in Captain Navarro’s office on board the Avendahl.
Captain Navarro set down his tablet and pressed the intercom button. “Go ahead.”
“Sir, we have received a distress call from the Takaran merchant vessel ‘Willamay’. She is under attack by what they believe to be Ybaran pirates.”
“Position?”
“She is en route to Takar from Savoy. Shipping lane one four seven, one point seven two seven light years from Savoy. She was forced to drop out of FTL to raise her shields.”
“Have the XO meet me in the IIC,” Captain Navarro ordered.
“Aye, sir.”
Captain Navarro rose from his desk and exited his office, turning to his left to head for the Avendahl’s Information and Intelligence Center. As with all the critical areas of the Avendahl’s command deck, it was only a few steps from the captain’s office. Unlike the frigates and cruisers on which he had previously served, the sheer size of the Avendahl required many more sub-departments in order to operate smoothly. The result of this was that the captain spent far more time in his office than on the bridge or in the CIC. In fact, there were times when he felt more like a figurehead than the captain of a ship, as the day-to-day operational decisions were made mostly by his junior officers. His main decisions involved when and where to move his ship, and what, if necessary, to do with the power that it was capable of projecting.
Captain Navarro entered the IIC. The room was vast and dimly lit, and like most other operational hubs, the rows of technicians and operators encircled a central platform, with each successive ring outward from center sitting slightly lower. Unlike other compartments, the arrival of a command officer was not announced. The men in this room were constantly busy monitoring communications signals, sensor tracks, and reviewing news reports in the area. With such information, the senior analysts would try to predict the actions of every player, both big and small. From noble houses to trade markets, local socio-economics and politics to interstellar relations, the officers who ran the IIC knew better than anyone what was going on in the Pentaurus cluster, and especially in the Takar system.
“Commander,” Captain Navarro greeted as he approached his executive officer.
The Avendahl’s executive officer, Commander Golan, stood next to Commander Saray at the large display table in the center of the room. “Captain.”
“How much confidence do we have in this distress call?” Captain Navarro asked Commander Saray.
“There have been reports of Ybaran pirates attacking merchant vessels,” the commander admitted. “However, all such reports have come from well outside the Pentaurus cluster. The most recent was an attack on a Volonese ore ship leaving Haven.”
“Takaran forces never confirmed that report,” Commander Golan reminded.
“Correct,” Commander Saray confirmed. “The Haven Corporation claims to have thwarted that attack.”
“Haven Corp are a bunch of thugs,” Captain Navarro commented.
“Also correct,” Commander Saray agreed.
Commander Golan looked at his captain. “I take it you have your doubts as to the authenticity of this distress call?”
“Wouldn’t you?” Captain Navarro replied. “For all we know, Haven Corp are the ones initiating the attacks.” Captain Navarro turned to Commander Saray. “How long will the Willamay’s shields hold out?”
“Ten minutes, maximum, if their armaments and numbers are similar to previously reported attacks.”
“I assume that the message was transmitted via one of the Willamay’s jump comm-drones?”
“Correct,” Commander Saray replied. “That was two minutes ago.”
Captain Navarro thought for a second.
“If we leave, and it is a diversion…” Commander Golan began.
“…Then something is going to happen here in the Takar system during our absence. However, we do have a responsibility to protect Takaran merchant ships, and those ships are owned by other noble houses. Not taking action to protect them could also fan the flames that are building on Takara.” Captain Navarro took a breath. “Which strike group has the ready duty?”
“Four,” Commander Golan answered.
“Commander Merritt. Good. We can trust him. Scramble the ready group, immediately.”
“The full group?” the XO asked.
“Twelve, six, and two. Instruct them to respond to any illegal movements within the Takar system.”
“Rules of Engagement?”
“Maximum force, but try not to fire the first shot, if possible.”
“Aye, sir,” the XO replied. He picked up a communications handset hanging from the side of the table. “Flight ops, XO.”
“XO, go for flight ops.”
“Flight ops, XO. Scramble Ready Four, full group. This is not a drill.”
“Scramble Ready Four, full group, this is not a drill, aye,” the flight control officer replied.
“Once Commander Merritt is away, send him his ROE and tell him we will be departing the area for what we hope will be a brief time.”
“I take it we’re going to answer the Willamay’s distress call?”
“Correct,” Captain Navarro answered. “Prepare the next ready group. I want them launch capable in five minutes.”
“Aye, sir.”
Captain Navarro picked up another handset. “Bridge, Captain.”
“Bridge, Lieutenant Commander Hyam,” the officer of the watch replied over the comms.
“Plot an intercept for the Willamay’s position, and jump us as soon as the ready group is clear.”
“Intercept jump is already plotted, sir.”
“Very well,” Captain Navarro replied. “Set action stations on all decks. Execute the jump when ready. I’ll be there shortly.”
“Aye, sir.”
The action stations alert klaxon sounded in the corridors outside the IIC, and the condition display on the wall changed to orange, indicating that the ship was readying itself for combat, although it was not yet charging up its most powerful weapons.
“Gentlemen,” Captain Navarro said as he turned to exit the IIC. “Let’s go to work.”
* * *
Captain Nash sat in the wardroom of Scout Three, staring at the time displays over the compartment’s forward hatch. They had been orbiting a hunk of rock and ice nearly a hundred kilometers in diameter located at the outer edges of the Tau Ceti system for a month, waiting for some word from Lieutenant Commander Nash and her team on the surface of Kohara, the most populated of the system’s three inhabited planets.
He had every reason to worry. He had expected them to return more than a week ago, and although their failure to do so did not mean they were in trouble, it did mean that something had not gone according to plan. It was that ‘something’ that bothered him.
Robert Nash had joined the EDF when his sister was still in diapers. Although he had been away for most of her life, he had always made a point of spending as much time as possible with her, and her slightly older brother, whenever he had been able. Still, it had only been recently, since he had been awakened by the Aurora, that they had become close.
Robert tried to tell himself that his little sister was a tough, resourceful woman, and a highly trained special operations agent. She was as qualified as anyone, perhaps more so due to her recent experiences in the field. How many people did she say she had killed? Thirty?
Forty? It was unfathomable to him, for when he looked at her face, he didn’t see a hardened warrior, capable of killing at a moment’s notice. He still saw that cute little tomboy who was always trying to keep up with her older brothers. He still saw the preteen who would rather listen to him tell stories about life in the Earth Defense Force than hang out in the shopping district with her friends and look at boys.
He looked at the time display again, just as it changed to a new hour. Regardless of his concerns over his little sister’s welfare, he had a job to do. He rose from his seat and headed toward the forward hatch into the EVA compartment. He made his way through the compartment, around the ladder, and then through the next hatchway leading forward, stepping into the systems compartment. “Wellsy, anything?”
Ensign Wells looked at his Captain. “Sorry, sir. Nothing new. Just the same old bullshit broadcasts.”
“Where’s Scalotti?”
“Aft, trying to find a way to boost the gain on the comm dish. We thought that maybe, if their jump sub is damaged and they can’t get back, they might try to send a signal some other way.”
“Did it work?”
“So far, we can just hear the same bullshit, but better.”
Captain Nash took a deep breath and sighed. “Well, we can’t wait any longer. They’ll just have to fend for themselves until the battle is over.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Wake the rest of them up, Wellsy,” Captain Nash said as he ascended the ladder to the flight deck. “It’s time to head home.”
* * *
“Captain on the bridge,” the guard at the entrance to the Avendahl’s bridge announced as Captain Navarro entered.
“Strike Group Four is away, Captain,” Lieutenant Commander Hyam reported. “Jump board is green, all stations report ready for action.”
“Very well,” Captain Navarro replied as he took his seat in the middle of the large circular room. “Status of the second ready group?”
“Strike Group One is on deck and ready to launch,” the flight operations officer reported from behind the captain. “Strike Groups Two and Three are on standby.”