Nova

by Lora E. Rasmussen

  With a snort, Diana remarked, “The same for me. I developed an occasional stuttering problem! Took me years to get over it.”

  Chuckling, Serros couldn’t help but add, “Once at lecture, Marcus rigged a portable data–screen to project a rotating image of a bull frog and Colonel Amherst, complete with large green lettering that read: ‘Amherst snogg’s frogs!’”

  “Nooo!” Diana responded with a shocked gasp, then a moment later giggled. “Is ‘snogging’ even in Perez’s vocabulary?”

  “Not at all, but ‘snogg’ was the only word he could come up with that he felt comfortable rhyming with ‘frog,’ and he was quite attached to the amphibian comparison. He was only sixteen, after all, so what can you expect?”

  Pretending offense, Adeline proclaimed “Oh my God; an insult to any well–mannered, Old–Terran, Brit–bred Jamaican!”

  Avara offered an impish smile. “Say that three times in a row, I dare you. Anyway, I suggest writing a sternly worded protest letter.”

  “Maybe I shall. What happened, anyway?”

  “Well, let’s just say, Marcus spent the next six weeks scrubbing every communal cadet latrine on premises.”

  “Holy shite.”

  “Exactly.”

  “How about your nephews?” Adeline asked after they’d stopped their practically bone–shattering fit of laughter at the rather… untidy image.

  “They’re well, thanks. My sister says that the responsibilities involved in taking care of a husband and three boys still under the age of twelve by far outweigh her workload as a surgeon.” Avara answered with a new–born chuckle. “Mad, of course. I’m glad she’s the eldest sibling.”

  “No squalling brood of offspring for you, then?” Diana asked with a playful smirk.

  “We’ll see. I’m not even forty–five yet. That’s a way future topic for me.”

  “You’re sister’s not much older.” Adeline shrugged.

  “With my life? Anyway, what’re you trying to do, marry me off, then?”

  “Hardly. At least, only to someone I entirely approve of.” Diana proclaimed with a humorous combination of sincerity and playful haughtiness.

  “Well, you let me know when you’ve got it all mapped out; you’ll save me the trouble.”

  “You have my word, I shall.”

  Caught a bit off–guard by Adeline’s surprisingly serious tone, Avara felt it was time for a little friend–prodding of her own, especially given Adeline’s recent moodiness. “Well, speaking of snogging and, whether using a gestation–pod or home–grown recipe, popping out a batch of kids… what’s been up with you, lately?”

  “Whatever do you mean, Avara?” Adeline asked, her eyes widening slightly and a thrill of somewhat embarrassed, yet eager emotion slicing forward, sure as a sword–strike.

  With a ribbing smile, Avara replied, “Um, let’s see… who seems to hang on every word you say, and trails you about like a lovelorn hyrenn during mating season?”

  “Who?”

  “Uh!” The Captain exclaimed in mock exasperation at her friend’s continued obtuseness. “Hello? Senior Engineering Officer Gareth Philips, that’s who.”

  To her surprise, no answer was immediately forthcoming. After the passage of several heartbeats, Avara found she could but meet Adeline’s dark–eyed gaze as Diana steadily regarded her, yet still said nothing.

  Finally, the Shield asked “Well?”

  Instead of directly answering, Diana took a half–step, a shift that placed her squarely front–forward and barely an inch away. With eyes that suddenly seemed to rock with a fixed intensity, Adeline gently placed the palms of her hands on Avara’s cheeks in a possessively–tender gesture.

  At last Diana spoke, her low, somewhat shaky voice both playful yet unmistakably urgent at the same time. “Well… And what would you say if it is not Gareth Philips who holds my interest?”

  Avara found that she could say nothing at all. Especially as after another moment’s solid regard, Adeline ever so gently but firmly used her fingers to bring Avara’s head within reach of her own and then kissed her. Fully, wholeheartedly, and passionately kissed her.

  Avara was at least as shocked by the sudden tidal–spray of emotion that broke through at the contact as she was by the kiss itself. It was as if a heavily–weighted vault–door had suddenly been ripped off its bearings. Adeline’s odd behavior of late, the oh–so many comments, small exchanges and brief flashes of feeling were suddenly bared, stripped of any unknowing ignorance clothed in the firm friendship the two had nurtured over the last few years.

  The stray thought that Diana’s mouth tasted like the chrysanthemum tea that they had consumed hours ago danced across her mind.

  Then, though at first somewhat stupefied by revelation, Avara found herself responding to the kiss. Soon their lips and tongues were both avidly questing, and their bodies pressed against one another as hands moved in escalating enthusiasm.

  “Captain Serros, do you read? Captain Serros, please respond.”

  Gradually, Avara became aware of the familiar voice sounding from her CPA, and with that voice, a semblance of reason reluctantly returned even as her forehead and lips met yet again with Diana’s.

  “Captain Serros, please respond.”

  “Yes, I read you, Marcus. What’s the issue?” Serros finally answered, voice husky even to her own ears and with Adeline still holding her shoulders, her lips only a brush–stroke apart from Avara’s.

  “Sorry to interrupt your R&R, Captain, but we have a Priority One from Delegate Sweetwater coming in over long–range communications. I think it’s urgent that you and the rest of the Senior Crew on shore–leave rotation return to Excalibur immediately.”

  After a heartbeat’s hesitation, Serros answered firmly “Understood, EXO, and good call. Lieutenant Commander Adeline and I shall be retuning presently.”

  “Understood, Sir. See you soon.”

  “Serros out.”

  Looking at Adeline’s lovely face for a moment, Avara found that she had absolutely no idea what to say; not with so much that now lay between them, and not in that rushed moment. Serros felt exhilarated, aroused, uncertain, and vaguely anxious all at once.

  With a soft yet satisfied smile and a quick kiss on the lips, Diana remarked “We should go.”

  “Um, yes we should.” Avara answered, shaking off her questions as the two of them fell into an easy jog towards the closest transport–node to the tramway and Excalibur.

  CHAPTER 14

  “Okay people, here’s what we know. Approximately nine standard hours ago, the Ministry received a distress call encrypted using an older Navy code. It was bounced between several deep space Comm Buoys and though garbled and initially difficult to decipher, the message is now clear in that the sender requires immediate assistance in the face of attack and capture.”

  Hearing the gravity that was in his Captain’s rich–toned voice and having been present for the Vid–conference with Delegate Sweetwater and so knowing what Avara was about to say, Marcus Perez was utterly unsurprised by the stark mask Serros’s face was set into as she took a deep breath before continuing.

  “Though there are a few standard search and rescue transports available and one X–Class Human Ministry Cruiser that could be underway in approximately twenty–hours, Delegate Sweetwater feels that Nova Squad and the QS Excalibur is the better choice for the mission.”

  Looking around the Strategy Room’s occupants all sitting to attention in their respective places, Marcus could see Serros deliberately making eye contact with each of the ten attendees before continuing. “Sweetwater’s assessment is based on the fact that the distress call is reading from the Arkaia System at the edges of Karukai territory; its exact origin has been pinned to Black Space.”

  “Black Space? Whew!” Lieutenant Rygel exclaimed, left eye ticking in agitation at the disclosure.

  “But there’s nothing out there.” Naxos added with a hiss.

  “That we know of.” Major Ca�
�rrakk interjected, his always surprisingly urbane voice contemplative. “Our stores of data are sketchy at best. We are fortunate the system is even named rather than only referred to by a numerical designation. There is a reason why it’s called Black Space, after all.”

  “I find the potential Karukai link to be troublesome. Could the call be a Karukai fabrication, Captain Serros?” Lieutenant Z’arr asked, her delicate royal blue brows raised inquisitively.

  “Very possible.” Serros answered. “It’s one of the reasons why Sweetwater has assigned the mission to us.”

  “Especially given what occurred on Ophere four months ago.” The Vosaia added, and by the troubled cast to her beautiful features, Marcus could see that she was easily following Avara’s reasoning and concern.

  “And there’s no mistaking that the signal is genuine?” Senior Engineering Officer Philips asked, glancing towards Diana Adeline.

  Having also been present for the initial long–range mission d–brief, A shook her head in the negative. “None at all. That does not mean, however, that the code wasn’t cracked or obtained by force.”

  “Regardless, it’s not unlikely that if the attack is genuine, the culprit is Karukai; perhaps slavers or border raiders.” Lieutenant Claudius Chopa added, the Navigation Officer’s knowledge based on years of work in and study of space, including flight patterns and the associated dangers with such travel.

  “Could be smugglers.” Lieutenant Commander Philips inserted.

  “Doesn’t have to be Karukai, no? Could just as easily be any à mèche… uh… roving band of pirates.” Dane Rygel added. The EXO could hear the Communication Officer’s fingers drumming across his knee in anxiety under the table.

  “Any of sssuch would be all the better then. Threatsss should be hunted down and eliminated, never allowed to thrive.” Belgrum Naxos stated insistently, his agitation causing him to unconsciously emphasize and draw out his S’s even more than usual.

  “Yeah, well, could be any or all of the above. Either way, I’m sure it’s no coincidence that close to a quarter of the starships that venture into the Black never return.” Chopa commented.

  “Aren’t you just chipper?” Adeline remarked.

  “In any case, we better hope our strays haven’t wondered off into completely unchartered space; would make our job a lot harder.” The often quiet but consistently perceptive Senior Systems Officer Tildon Jaxx announced.

  “The Vosaia believe that the majority of disappearances into Black Space are simply due to the lack of charted routes and the risk involved in carving out new star–roads.” K’llan interjected. Marcus was pretty sure her motivation was to calm the rising anxiety that even he could sense clustering in the Strategy Room.

  “Yes, quite true.” Ca’rrakk seconded. “It takes years to accurately scout and map–out new routes, to ensure their safety as well as the deployment of necessary sensor and communication buoys to maintain accurate data.”

  “Despite the risk, it is our duty to at least attempt a rescue.” Dr. Argos threw into the momentary silence.

  Though her voice held certainty, Marcus could see the quick look Jenna grazed her husband Tildon with. Despite the physician’s calling that Perez knew she believed in utterly, it would have taken a significantly lesser person to not experience any concern about traveling into such potential danger with those that they loved the most.

  “As it is, I happen to agree.” Captain Serros announced, her modulated yet magnetic voice immediately recapturing the attention of every person present. “Plus, if the Karukai are brewing some form of new trouble, we need to know. Marcus?”

  “The last of the crew who had been on–planet for shore–leave are returning now.” Perez promptly answered the Captain’s unspoken question. “I’ve already had Quartermaster Zibai speed–up the restocking of our stores and the process should be complete by seventeen–hundred. Our official business here is concluded and our ship’s systems are all a go.”

  “Well done, EXO. Lieutenant Commander Adeline,” Avara said, turning to the woman directly seated to her left. “Can you please gather whatever data you can on the Arkaia System as well as any known activity within the area during the last twelve months? Work with Major Ca’rrakk and Lieutenant Z’arr to flesh–out our information.”

  “Yes, Captain.” Diana answered straight away.

  Curiously, Marcus noted a strange flush on her cheeks as she gave her reply, not to mention that she wasn’t quite meeting the Captain’s bright gaze.

  Interesting.

  “Okay, Nova. At full speed, we have just under twelve days before reaching our destination. If we’re traveling into the Dark, I want to be one–hundred percent prepared and ready to face whatever we find.” Avara’s voice resonated with resolution as she again swept her gaze around the HUD. “Any other questions?”

  “So much for shore–leave.” Rygel sighed, running clever yet ever nervous fingers through his short–shorn hair.

  “After this next Op, we’ll turn the Comm off for a bit; say a month.” Avara responded, her faint smile easing the tension. “Dismissed.”

  *

  Breathing deeply to keep the annual swirl of bittersweet emotion at bay, at least for just a stretch longer, Commander Marcus Perez gently keyed the entry–alert of the steel colored durexium door in front of him. Though he could neither hear the chime on the other side of portal nor the footsteps of the occupant’s approach, he knew they were to open a split–second before doing so.

  “Evening, Marcus.” The dark haired woman before him greeted. Though as straight–postured as always, Marcus was struck by the disquieting and exceptional thought that she seemed somehow vulnerable, standing there within the frame of her doorway.

  “Evening, Avara. You ready?”

  With a certain nod and holding a plain gray case under her left arm, Captain Serros responded “Ready.”

  Just as they had a hundred times before, the two senior–most officers on–ship made their way through Deck 3’s hallways to the lift, then continued their traverse down to Deck 8. The hour was fairly late, approaching nine o’ clock, and so foot–traffic was beginning to thin as those that called Excalibur home commenced their end–night routines. Still, though he was unsure of how much it was due simply to his personal state of mind, Perez found the mood to be more reserved than was the norm.

  When the third crewmember passed him and Avara and didn’t offer any more acknowledgement than the briefest of glances, Marcus realized it wasn’t just his own mental frame coloring his perceptions. Someone had asked the crew to keep a respectful distance for the remainder of the night. As he and Avara exited the lift and made their path towards the Mess, the Commander felt a rush of gratitude towards their quiet benefactor, whom if he had to lay bets, Marcus would wager was either Diana, Gaius, Claudius, or Jenna. Or, he mused, in all probability the entire lot.

  The two walked through the large swooshing doors of the Mess Hall without pausing to even glance at the Galley and culinary concoctions Chief Tanner had prepared for the day. Marcus and Avara continued to and through a second set of doors to a smaller back room, the deck’s main Crew Lounge.

  Strangely, or perhaps not so strangely given his hypothesis, the typically jumping rec space, graced by large open view ports and a dozen or so small round tables along with three cushion–pelted couches, was entirely empty.

  Placed atop the centermost table before the best view in the house was a brace of silver–capped, clear–crystal decanters, each filled to the brim with rich, lushly amber liquor. Two long and tall thick crystal shot–glasses abutted the larger vessels, perfectly in match with the two chairs set at the table.

  “Gaius, Diana, Claudius, and Jenna.” Avara announced after a moment, a sweetly–sad smile upturning the corner of her mouth as she stood looking at the display.

  “Yup.” Marcus replied. “Whaddaya say?”

  “Let’s.” Serros agreed, then walked over and placed the small case she’d been carrying on t
he table’s surface. It took only seconds for her to remove and carefully position its contents: three blood–red, short and fat old–fashioned wax candles and an elegant if antiquated, gold–lettered platinum matchbox.

  The two officers sat down in their respective seats with an emotional sense of heaviness, and for a time, simply regarded the stars painting the outer view before them, minutes sliding into more minutes. Each fell into his and her own thoughts, yet still remained anchored by the other’s presence.

  After a period of time that for the life of him, Perez just couldn’t pin, the Captain nodded to her EXO. As she shifted one of the candles to a centermost position on the cool glass table–top between them and removed six silver–gilded matches from their casing, he carefully poured the amber liquid, Kylosian Brandy, into the duo of shot glasses, filling them to the brim.

  Using her right hand, Serros slid three of the freed matches towards Marcus, retaining the others. A second later, he twinned her action when she picked up a single match, safely captured between thumb and forefinger.

  “On this evening of August the twenty–fifth, Reckoning 3421, we honor those who fell.” Avara’s voice was clear as she spoke, its rich timbre vibrating throughout the room. With a gesture, she picked up her glass and raised it in synchronous salute with Marcus’s own, and then the two consumed the liquid in a single, continuous action. Perez could feel the brandy blazing like hearth–fire as it rolled from mouth to throat to chest.

  This time, Avara filled their empty glasses.

  “We honor those who fell in the Kylos Raze, twenty–six years ago on this day.” Marcus declared, his own tone as somber as the woman’s he sat with. Again, the two downed the liquor in a single fluid movement, only to top the tumblers off once more.

  “We honor those that fell in the VanDorn Strike, twelve–years ago on this day.” Avara continued. For a third time they drank.

  Marcus picked up the first of the three matches before him, Avara following suit with an almost languid motion. “Today, we honor family lost.” The EXO declared, then with an audible scritch against the casing, he and she carefully ignited their miniature brands, then simultaneously set aflame the first candle–wick.