Despite what Captain Middleton had said, Fei Long’s early elation had turned to sour disappointment the more he thought about just how little bandwidth he had secured for their purposes. His original plan for gaining access to the only galaxy-wide FTL communications system in existence had depended on several factors which were no longer present, chief among them a contiguous ComStat network which interfaced with the much larger Imperial part of the system. Without that connection, and with the curious modifications the Raubachs had made to the ComStat infrastructure which he did have access to, his program could not automatically propagate nearly as fast as he had originally intended.
At its current rate of propagation, Fei Long’s program would require at least another two months before it had spread throughout the Spineward Sectors’ remaining ComStat network, and recent experience aboard the Pride of Prometheus suggested to him that two months may as well be two centuries when it came to project timetables. All that mattered was what he could accomplish today, so any further attempts to increase his access to, and control over, the ComStat network would have to wait.
The corner of his workstation’s screen began to blink, and for a moment Fei Long stared dumbly at it before realizing—with no small measure of relief—that his latest attempt appeared to have succeeded in defeating the security issues he had previously encountered.
Exhaling a sigh of relief, he slouched back in his chair and in the span of no more than five seconds he realized just how completely exhausted he was. Ever since his relationship with Lu Bu had ignited, he had actually been unable to sleep whatsoever. But her presence in his life had changed something, and he was well past the point of caring precisely what that was. When he was with her he felt like a more complete person, and that was all he cared about any longer.
“Success,” he declared with muted vigor as he stood and stretched. “I must report this to Captain Middleton,” he said after catching Yide’s eye, and the adolescent uplift nodded before once again returning to his work.
And so Fei Long set off for the bridge, knowing that if he delayed any longer he would be unable to avoid flopping into his bunk and letting exhaustion rob him of consciousness for no fewer than twelve hours.
“Well done, Mr. Fei,” Middleton said after receiving the young man’s report. “What kind of information has your preliminary analysis revealed might be available?”
Fei Long cocked his head in apparent confusion, and Middleton noted the dark semicircles beneath the young man’s eyes as he replied matter-of-factly, “All of it, Captain. There are certain off-world databases, such as those housed on each of the planet’s moons, but anything with a hard-line connection on the planet itself is accessible to my program.”
Middleton supposed he should not have been surprised, but he found himself shaking his head in awe of the young man’s technical abilities. “So…we’re talking about what, exactly? Local corporate records, archived newsfeeds, research literature?”
“Of course,” Fei Long replied in an uncharacteristically testy voice. “I believe you have mistaken my meaning, Captain,” he sighed as he rubbed the bridge of his nose, “I said ‘all of it’ is now available to us, sir, and that is precisely what I meant. Given enough time and some minor modifications to my virtual network, I should be able to access all but the highest-security data, such as real-time updates of high-level dignitary locations, military asset deployment, covert espionage operations, and things of that nature. But anything else which is stored on the planet—including one of the most significant centralized data storage systems in the entire Spine, which contains up-to-date employment records for over eighty percent of the entire Spineward Sectors—will be accessible via my method.”
Middleton double-blinked as he processed the full meaning of the young hacker’s far-too-casual declaration, and leaned back in his chair as he let it soak into his mind. “I’d appreciate a demonstration of this network’s data-mining capabilities, if you’re able to provide one,” he said, knowing that the ship was scheduled to leave the Capital system in just under three hours and that Mr. Fei had been abundantly clear that his operating bandwidth would be significantly greater in-system than it would be once they had left the vicinity.
“Of course,” Fei Long said dismissively. “Do you have a specific query in mind?”
Middleton nodded. “I want everything you can find on Alice Schillinger, and I want it in our databases before we leave the system. And when I say ‘everything,’ I mean precisely that,” he said, making a point of turning the young man’s previous, borderline insubordinate, reiteration back on him. “I want anything and everything you can find on her, and everyone within three degrees of separation from her including research associates, former students, interns and, if you can find it, a thorough list of people who have attended her lectures in the past.”
Fei Long’s eyebrows rose in surprise before his quick, intelligent eyes began snapping back and forth in silence. “That would certainly test my network’s capabilities,” he said with a clear note of approval before nodding curtly, “I must begin immediately.”
“Good,” Middleton said as the young man stood from the chair and turned to leave the ready room. “And Mr. Fei,” he called out, prompting the young man to turn to face him, “when you’re finished, barring a Condition One situation, you’re to take forty eight hours of off-duty time. Is that clear?”
“Sir?” Fei Long asked. He was clearly taken aback—and apprehensive—about Captain Middleton’s order.
“You’ve been working yourself into the ground,” Middleton said, knowing that he was likely understating the matter. “But I doubt we’re going to run into any trouble this close to a heavily-secured Core World like Capital. Under any other circumstances I wouldn’t be able to grant you a leave of any kind from your duties, since they’re vital to the mission, but as a modest gesture of appreciation I’d like you to take a couple days off. You’ve earned them.”
Fei Long’s expression softened and he nodded, “I would appreciate that, Captain.”
“Good,” Middleton said with a nod, “but first get me that intel—as well as anything you can dig up on House Raubach.”
“I will not fail,” Fei Long said with a respectful inclination of his head before exiting the room.
Chapter III: Shedding the Past
“That’s the complete report, Captain,” Chief Garibaldi said after Middleton had reviewed the overview of the slate’s contents. “Not as bad as I’d originally feared, but we’re still going to have to relocate nearly a third of the crew to keep them from squishing against the bulkheads during combat maneuvers.”
Middleton did not exactly share his Chief Engineer’s appraisal, but then he supposed there was no way for the news that his ship’s superstructure had been critically compromised to be anything but catastrophic. Still, Garibaldi’s repair schedule seemed to suggest that by using all available structural beams they had in reserve and ‘tweaking’ the grav-plates—in several cases, requiring major additions to the local power grid to support the drain, which could reach as high as 1500% maximum survivable gravity—he could bring the Pride’s forward hull to nearly eighty percent of its rated integrity.
Which meant that, after roughly a week of repairs by the double-shifting Engineering team, the Pride would be combat-ready once again. He nodded slowly before gesturing for his XO to approach the Command Chair. “Lieutenant Sarkozy,” he said as she approached the dais on which his chair was mounted, “I’d like the transfers to be complete before we leave the system; we’ll need the crew out of those areas so the Chief’s people can get to work ASAP.”
Sarkozy nodded as she accepted the slate, but she hesitated and briefly chewed her lip, apparently having something to say.
“What is it, Lieutenant Sarkozy?” Middleton asked, disliking the unusually anxious demeanor of his Executive Officer.
“It’s just that…well, sir,” she replied, lowering her voice as she stepped closer to the Command
Chair. “I…well…” she stammered before drawing a deep breath and producing a data slate from her pocket. “I’d like to request an official name change, sir.” Middleton’s eyebrows rose as his mounting nerves relaxed. He took her slate and examined its contents briefly as she assured him, “It’s all there, Captain.”
Middleton had dealt with a whole rash of name changes from the crew he had picked up from Fei Long’s home world, so the procedure was not an unfamiliar one, but he failed to see why his XO was requesting a name change at this time. “I’d appreciate the short version, Lieutenant,” he said, laying the slate on his lap and meeting her gaze.
She nodded as a bitter expression twisted its way across her features, “It’s that blighter of a soon-to-be-ex-husband of mine, sir. He was stationed at the Tau Sigma IX listening station, and I hadn’t heard from him since the Imperial withdrawal,” she explained, her voice taking on a grating tone as she spoke. “But I just received word from my aunt that he left with the Imps, sir!”
Middleton’s eyes narrowed slightly, “Just how did you receive word from your aunt all the way out here, XO?”
She blushed immediately but squared her shoulders as she replied, “I had Mr. Fei do a quick check of the local courier services, sir; my aunt uses them whenever there’s important news from my family, and my sister’s worsening health has been on my mind for quite some time. My aunt was only too eager to forward news of Marc’s defection to the other side, Captain; she not-so-secretly hoped for an explosive end to our marriage, and paid a not-inconsequential sum to have the message forwarded to every single courier outpost in the Spine. I won’t wear that traitorous blighter’s name one more day than I absolutely have to, Captain; I’ve already sent word for an annulment to be instigated. I’d prefer to use my maiden name from now on, sir.”
Middleton was surprised that word from Sector 25 could reach them at Capital, but upon reflection he had to admit that it had been nearly a year since they had been deployed aboard the Pride of Prometheus. Even a physical courier service would eventually spread the information across the entire Spineward Sectors, given that amount of time. “Mr. Fei’s expertise—and his time—are valuable commodities, Lieutenant,” he said scathingly, causing her to flinch ever-so-slightly at the rebuke. “I think you’ll agree that we need him focusing on higher-priority tasks than fetching letters for homesick members of this crew?”
“Sir, yes sir, Captain,” she replied stiffly, placing her hands behind her back and nodding sharply.
He held her with a heavy, reproachful look before affixing his signature to the request form she had filled out on the data slate. “As recompense to your fellow crewmembers for taxing that asset unnecessarily, I suggest you take over at Comm. following your current shift so that Mr. Fei can begin his leave period one day early. He has a series of calibrations which he was hoping to complete before shift’s end; I trust you’re equal to the task of finishing that job to at least his level?”
“Of course, Captain,” she acknowledged, her professional demeanor once again fully deployed.
“Good,” he said simply, handing the slate back to her, “as for your request…all I can say is: welcome aboard, Lieutenant McKnight.”
“Thank you, sir,” she acknowledged, taking the slate in hand and sighing just loudly enough that he could hear her do so.
When she had returned to her duties, Middleton allowed a short-lived smile to dance across his lips. When he saw Chief Engineer Mikey Garibaldi was doing likewise, Middleton decided that enough time had been spent on that particular diversion so he changed the subject, “Should we try to secure some more duralloy beams for the structural reinforcement, Chief? This is likely our last stop at a proper port,” he said, knowing all-too-well that it may very well be the ship’s last stop ever at a port which could even remotely be described as ‘friendly.’
Mikey looked doubtful for a moment before shaking his head, “If you’ll let my people scavenge the bulkheads up forward, we can reprocess them using the ship’s micro-foundry and we’ll have all the material we need. There’s no need for us to declare to the known universe that we’re in need of a major overhaul,” he said heavily.
Middleton nodded, glad to find that both his Chief Engineer was on the same page as his Captain. “That will do fine then, Chief,” he said with a nod as he opened a menu on his Command Chair’s built-in readout which contained the latest departmental readiness reports. He wanted to get underway as quickly as possible, and Garibaldi had assured him that the ship would be in no immediate danger while his people reinforced the forward superstructure.
“Captain,” Garibaldi acknowledged before turning and leaving the bridge.
Middleton looked over at Fei Long, and noted the dark semicircles beneath the young man’s eyes. The current shift ended in three hours and Middleton was glad for the opportunity to let the young virtuoso have a few extra hours to himself—even if they would just be spent catching up on much-needed sleep.
“Mr. Fei,” Middleton said, and the young man’s attention immediately turned to the Captain, “I think we can handle things up here. You’re relieved of duty; consider your leave extended by one day, and consider it begun as of this moment.”
Fei Long, slightly surprisingly, nodded wordlessly as a petty officer named Hansen approached and took the change-of-shift report from Mr. Fei. “Thank you, Captain,” the young man said, offering a customary bow before egressing the bridge. It was only in that moment that Middleton realized he, too, had been keeping unusually long hours as the ship’s repair schedules had been drawn up. He needed some chow and, if possible, a few hours of shut-eye.
“Lieutenant Sark—“ Middleton began, before catching himself and snorting softly at himself, “that is, Lieutenant McKnight, you have the con.”
“I have the con, aye, Captain,” his newly-named XO acknowledged crisply.
Middleton set down his platter, which he had filled with an extra portion of strawberry shortcake—or, at least, the galley’s interpretation of it given the available ingredients—and sat down at the far end of the mess hall.
He ate in silence, running through several repair work scenarios and wondering if he shouldn’t go ahead and secure some extra materials for Garibaldi’s people. Information security was indeed a priority for his ship, since he wanted his enemies—namely, Commodore Raubach and his Rim Fleet detachment—to know as little as possible about the Pride’s condition prior to their next engagement. But at the same time, the material support gained by securing some heavy load beams might outweigh the potential downside.
He was so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he barely noticed Jo sit down opposite him—when he did take note of her presence, he also took note of the extra helping of shortcake which she had secured for herself, and he couldn’t help but smile briefly at how some things never change.
“Just what would coach Swanson say about that?” Middleton pointed at her cake using his fork. Coach Swanson had been Jo’s swimming team coach in college, and she had been a notorious hard-ass when it came to daily weights for her athletes.
“Whatever she would have said,” Jo said as she dug her fork into the cake, “my response to her would be the same as my response to you: mind your own business.” She placed the bite in her mouth and began to chew it, licking her lower lip as she did so—just like she had done when they were married years earlier, and Middleton found himself unable to ignore the rush of memories which flooded his mind in that moment.
Middleton ate his own dessert, and the two shared relative silence for several minutes until their plates were nearly clean. Middleton had no idea how he was supposed to feel about sharing meals with her. In truth, he had no idea how he was supposed to feel about anything any longer.
He leaned back and looked around the galley, finding only two other crewmembers present on the opposite side of the room, so he sighed and decided to speak his mind. “Why are you still here, Jo?”
She looked up from her platter with
a look of muted alarm, “Excuse me?”
He sighed and rubbed his hands over his face, trying desperately to banish the increasingly heavy sensation which seemed to be overtaking him. He knew he was tired, and that he needed sleep, but he also knew he needed to ensure that his people had everything they needed to affect repairs on the ship before they headed out again.
“I don’t mean anything by it,” he said with a note of apology in his voice. “But…I just can’t figure it out. You always hated the military,” he said, looking around pointedly at the nearby bulkheads, “and now here you are serving on a warship.”
She seemed to consider her reply for several moments before shrugging, “People change, Tim.”
He shook his head, wanting very much to ignore that particular argument—one they’d had so many times he wished he could forget most of them. “Specifics, Doctor,” he said, using her title as a term of respect rather than a wedge between them—like he had done in the not-too-distant past, “I need to know why you’re not only serving as this ship’s Chief Medical Officer, but why you volunteered to create a bio-agent which can kill a form of life we’ve never even catalogued—and you did so without any encouragement on my part.”
She bit her lip and seemed torn as to how—or, perhaps, whether—she should answer, but eventually she sighed and sat back. “I don’t know if I can fully answer that,” she admitted, “because I’m not sure even I know the answer.” Her eyes met his, and she held him with a significant look for several moments before she added, “But I think, through all of this…the attack on the colony those years ago, my abduction by the Raubachs aboard the Pegasus mining station, and finally meeting you again…I can’t believe all of that is mere coincidence.”
Against The Middle Page 3