by Tony Healey
She knew it was the Commander's kind of humour. He'd been around so long, he knew there was no way she would reproach him for such a stunt. Official protocol called for such pomp every time she walked onto the bridge. Of course, it was unreasonable and absurd to expect that . . . and embarrassing to boot.
But I'll get him back, she thought. The crew took to their stations again, and the Commander glanced sideways at her. Jessica smirked but kept her composure.
"Where are we, people?"
"Every system is a go," Commander Chang reported. "Reactor nominal. All boards green."
"Helm?" King asked.
"Ready to go on your command," Banks replied.
"Good. Ensign Rayne, have we cleared permission with starbase control?"
Olivia Rayne turned around, holding the comm. piece in her ear. "Aye, Captain. We have clearance to cast off."
Jessica shifted in her seat. "Then you may take us out, Mister Banks."
"Aye," the helmsman said. His fingers graced the control boards of the console and the Defiant responded to his touch.
"Commander Greene, if you'd like to take your seat and clip yourself in. We wouldn't want you falling out of your chair," King advised.
The Commander took the jibe with grace and sat nearby. The thrusters came online, detectable by a soundless vibration underfoot. There was a slight jolt as the docking collars disengaged from the station. Lieutenant Banks backed the ship up until they had twenty metres clearance and then nudged her forward, tilting the nose up. Waking the engines, he took the Defiant up and away from the station in a sudden surge of energy.
"It wasn't strictly regulation," Jessica said. "But it was perfectly executed. Nice work."
"Thank you Captain," Banks said, suddenly aware that he'd narrowly avoided a reprimand – and perhaps on any other ship, under any other skipper, he might have gotten one.
On the viewscreen, now showing an aft view, they left the station rapidly behind them.
"Take us to full speed, Lieutenant," King ordered.
"Aye."
She turned to Chang. "Everything still as it should be? No anomalous readings?"
Commander Chang shook her head. "No change, Ma'am."
"Fine, then you may spool the Jump Drive, Lieutenant."
"Yes Captain," Chang said.
"Commander?" King asked Commander Greene down by the weapons station.
Greene got up to stand by her. "Our course is plotted."
"Well then, Lieutenant Banks, initiate the Jump," Jessica ordered.
The ship's primary pilot nodded his head, moved his hand to the Drive controls and eased the ignition lever forward. Within seconds the Defiant underwent the familiar shift of the Jump and they were travelling in a manner so unnaturally advanced and fast that to primitive minds it would have been akin to magic.
"Jump speed attained," Banks reported from the helm as the stars flew past.
Magic . . . Jessica thought.
13.
Commander Greene found Dr. Gentry in the officer's mess, draining the last of a mint tea.
"Doctor Gentry?" he asked as he stood over the bespectacled man with greying hair.
"Yes?"
"I'm Commander Del Greene," he said and offered his hand. Doctor Gentry either dismissed the gesture or did not notice. He stood up, instead, and fetched his bags from the floor.
"Pleasure to meet you, Commander Greene. I am Doctor Gentry."
Greene cocked his head to one side, trying to figure out if the Doctor was toying with him, or genuinely forgetful.
Maybe the guy's mad, he thought. Maybe there's something wrong with him.
"Yes, I know that," Greene told him.
"Oh, good," Gentry said. "Don't you dislike introductions?"
"If you'll come with me, Doctor, I'll show you to your room."
Gentry shuffled along behind him as the Commander led him out of the mess hall. With his wild charcoal and silver hair, etched face and awkward gait, he looked like some kind of hospital outpatient.
"This is a nice ship," Gentry remarked. "The nicest I've been on."
"Yes. Have you been on many?"
Gentry shook his head. "None."
This is some kind of joke, Greene thought. Someone's having a laugh at our expense. Who is this crackpot?
"Well, you'll find the Defiant more than comfortable," Greene explained. "We've had dignitaries aboard many times. Never had any complaints."
"Yes, yes," Gentry said almost dismissively. Behind his glasses, big blue eyes flitted about as he took in the corridor they walked down, the signs on the walls, the overhead lights. "So, uh, what ship is this, d'you say?"
*
Dr. Clayton pressed a wad of cotton wool to the spot on Jessica's forearm where he'd just injected her.
"Now, you know this is only the second course," he explained to her. Nurse Shook stepped in and covered the area with a bandage. With medical science advanced as it was, cotton wool and bandages were still indispensable for any medical practitioner.
"Thank you," Jessica said.
"You're welcome," Shook said and walked off.
Clayton wrote something on his data tablet, then regarded her with his arms crossed. "How do you feel?"
Jessica shrugged. "Like myself, I suppose. I couldn't say I feel any different."
"That's the point. You're meant to feel normal. The only thing that'll happen is that, with luck, you won't ever feel the effects of the MS again. If my man back at the Havadi Medical Research is correct, it should push it into permanent remission. You won't even know you've got it," the Doctor explained.
"We'll see," she said sceptically.
"You're not an optimist, are you Jess?" Clayton asked her.
She shook her head. "Nope. A realist."
Clayton broke into a big smile. "I believe that's true. And you know what? You'd have made a swell Doctor yourself."
"Are you saying you don't believe in hope and prayer?" she asked him.
"Exactly that," he said. "Though in this case, I believe a little hope doesn't hurt."
"Thanks," Captain King said. She stood up from the edge of the hospital bed and got back into her uniform tunic. Her arm was sore from the jab, but if it all worked then it was definitely worth it.
"You're welcome, now get outta here. I'm a busy man. I've got one crew member with a distended anus and another with a broken toe," Clayton said, deadpan.
Even as she left the medical bay and headed down the corridor outside, Jessica couldn't stop giggling. And she'd not for one second thought to inquire as to how a member of her crew would end up with a distended anus. Some things were confidential, after all.
14.
"I'd say you run a tight ship, Chief," King said as she surveyed the engineering section. "But I think it'd be a weird saying to come out with given our mode of transport."
Chief Gunn led her toward the vast reactor, her hands in the front pocket of her overalls. "Though it'd be true," she said.
"Yes," King said. "And I'd expect nothing less from you, Chief. You've done a fine job getting her finished in time. I owe you one."
Gunn shook her head. "No, Captain, you owe me more than that. The boys on the station were good, but they were sloppy, too. I should be on a higher pay grade for what I had to put up with."
"Bad, huh?"
"You wouldn't believe it," Gunn said. "I've seen second grade yeoman with more competence."
"Yeah, but you're a harsh mistress," Jessica said. She took a moment to admire the massive reactor. There was nothing to really look at, housed within feet of thick alloy such as it was. However it did make a particular sound, a kind of ticking from within. It served to reinforce the impression of the reactor as the very heart of the ship. A big mechanical heart with a cosmic reaction at its centre.
Jessica stood with a hand resting against the rhythmically vibrating metal.
"I used to do this when I was cadet," she said.
"Under Captain Singh?" the Chief a
sked her.
She smiled at the memory. "Fresh faced and naïve. In awe of a starship for just being what it was, you know? As if it were a big muscle, ploughing through space."
"I get you," Gunn said.
"Hey, Chief," Ensign Greg Benedict said. "We're ready to test the auxiliary recyclers."
"Yeah, I'll be with you in a minute," Gunn said.
"It's okay. Get on with what you've got to do," King told her. "I know you're busy."
The Chief nodded and left. Jessica remained a moment longer, her hand feeling every fluctuation of the Defiant's heart – every beat – as it propelled them through the vacuum toward their target destination. And that may yet prove a bigger mystery than anything they had yet faced.
15.
"Everyone be seated," Captain King said. "I'll try not to drag this out more than necessary. Lights."
The ceiling lights automatically dimmed, and a holodisplay appeared in front of them. Around the table were Commander Greene, Chief Meryl Gunn, Dr. Clayton, Commander Chang, Dr. Dana Oriz and their latest addition, Dr. Gentry, who was sipping a carton of some juice or other.
They all watched as the display showed a star system.
Jessica waved a hand, and the Defiant's course appeared as a thin red line that snaked its way into the system. The display tracked their progress, revealing planets circling a sun.
"This is the Namar system. Some of you may or may not be aware of the race. I wasn't until I looked them up. Don't ask me any questions just yet. Wait until I've finished," Jessica said, sensing that a few of them may be about to inquire about the Namar. "Everything will be made evident."
The display continued to press in on the system, focusing on one of the planets in particular. The huge gas giant that looked like Jupiter. As the display expanded, it showed several moons in orbit.
"This is our target. There isn't an official astronomical designation for this planetoid, so for now we're meant to refer to it as NA-45. Command's choice, not mine," she explained. Now it became evident just what it was they were headed for. The holodisplay showed a jet black cylinder in orbit. "This object, assigned the code name Enigma, is what we've been sent to investigate. Commander, time till we reach the system?"
"Two days," Greene answered. "We have to slow down considerably to cross the Plutom Rift, otherwise it would be sooner."
"That's fine. In fact, I'm thankful for the extra time. It will allow us to approach this thing fully prepared," King said.
Doctor Oriz sat forward. "Captain, any idea on dimensions? Mass?"
Jessica shook her head slowly. "Details are very sketchy. The probe that acquired these images didn't have long to take detailed readings. It is known, however, that the object is sixty kilometres long, twenty kilometres wide. Other than that, we don't know. That's why we've been sent to observe and investigate in person."
"I see," Dana Oriz said.
"The Namar wiped themselves out a long time ago, but this object – this Enigma – could well be a relic of their civilisation. Or, just as likely, something from outside their system. Our task is to rendezvous with the Enigma and find out as much about it as possible," King said.
"Do we think any races outside of the Union may have noticed it already?" Chang asked.
"We don't believe so. From what we can tell, the Namar system is quite out of bounds for most. Do any of you know its unofficial nickname? I read it up last night . . ."
None of them offered a contribution.
"Merchants call the system 'The Graveyard,'" Jessica said and watched as Commander Greene visibly swallowed.
"That's a little disconcerting," he said.
King flicked off the holodisplay. "Lights." The room brightened instantly.
"So how do we plan to survey the object?" Commander Chang asked her.
"We will have three teams at least. I'll draw up the team members in a couple of hours. They will consist of a team leader and two others. I will head one. Commander Greene's priority will be coordinating the efforts of the teams from this end. Of course, this is provided we can gain access to the inside of the Enigma," Jessica said. "And, just pre-empting the Commander decrying the fact he's being left aboard, there will hopefully be a chance for him to do some exploring too."
Greene looked around, his cheeks glowing.
"I really wouldn't have," he said.
Jessica smiled. "I think this makes us even, Commander?" she asked, referring to his stunt up on the bridge.
He cocked an eyebrow as he looked up at her. "You surprise me . . ."
The Captain opened her arms in mock innocence. The Chief started to laugh and Dr. Clayton joined her.
There was a cough from the end of the table and all eyes turned to Dr. Gentry.
"Captain? If I may?" he asked.
Jessica nodded. "Yes. I'm sorry, Doctor. I completely forgot about you. Everyone, this is Doctor Gentry. Our resident expert on things like this. He'll be assisting us."
"Thank you," Gentry said. "And please, by all means, feel free to call me Wilf or Wilfred if you find Doctor too formal. Anyway, I was about to say that there will, of course, have to be thorough checks made of the object before any kind of contact can be made. We have to rule a lot out."
"Such as?" Commander Greene asked.
"I would suggest, for a start, that we fire garbage at the Enigma," Gentry said. "We must test the object to ensure it is not comprised of anti-matter. The simple act of this ship docking with it could cause an explosion equal to the Big Bang. And that, of course, would prove most unfortunate."
Chief Gunn shot a puzzled look at Commander Greene, who shook his head in a way that said "Later."
"We'll certainly take all of your points into consideration, Doctor Gentry. How soon can you have a list of suggestions to me?" Jessica asked.
"Within the hour," Gentry told her. "Provided I can figure out how to use the outdated computers on this ship."
"Good. I'll send someone along to give you a hand. Once I read your recommendations, I'll update the mission profile accordingly," King said. "Now, are there any other questions? No? Well, I would like everyone to read what they can about the Namar. When the teams have been decided, I'll be assigning them all this very task anyway. We should have a basic grasp of what the Namar were like before getting there. I have a feeling it will help."
"Yes Captain," the Commander said on behalf of them all.
"Good. Then everyone go back to what you were doing. Please, do what you can to assist Doctor Gentry and help him feel comfortable during his stay on the Defiant. I'll have the team listings posted to the intership circuits shortly," she said and dismissed them all.
16.
"Come in," she called.
Dollar walked into her quarters and waited for the door to close again so they could have privacy.
"Captain," he said.
"Have a seat, Lieutenant Dolarhyde," Jessica said. She watched as he sat on the sofa, then offered him a drink.
"No thanks."
"Fair enough," Jessica said. She took her coffee over to the little table and set it near the edge. "So how're you getting on? It's been a year now."
"Yep I know," he said. "And I'm doin' fine. Considerin' the fact I've had to start from scratch, I don't think it's gone too bad."
Jessica smiled. "I see things have flourished with Miss Walker."
"Yep, they're goin' well."
"I've got to say, I'm impressed with how you've taken charge of the starfighter situation. I'm a little ashamed to admit that that whole aspect of ship's operations sort of fell by the wayside over time," Jessica said.
And it was true. More and more, the Union had favoured direct ship-to-ship combat rather than the protracted starfighter operations of generations earlier. However, the Defiant was an old girl. And she still had all her old fighters.
Dollar – Hawk – had been repairing them, one by one, and training the crew in their use. So far the program had been a roaring success. It'd certainly helped to h
ave a few active fighters when the Defiant found herself pitted against three Cantrellian raiders months before.
"I'm proud of the program, to say the least," Dollar admitted. "My recruits have come along well."
"And you've built your own ship," King said. "I popped down there not so long ago. It's coming together nicely. Hard to believe it's been put together out of spare parts."
"Yep. I even picked a name. The Dragonfly."
"I like it," Jessica said. "I know Jack Boi would have, too," she said.
Right now, her report on the death of Boi was being read by the powers-that-be at command, in which she strongly suggested a redesign of backup emergency control systems. Chief Gunn had already made some adjustments to the systems herself, to ensure it wouldn't happen again . . . to ensure there wouldn't be another Jack Boi tragedy.
"Yeah . . ." Dollar said. He looked away.
Jessica chose to move away from the subject. "This whole situation must have been so strange to begin with," she said. "But you've dealt with it well. Can I ask you something?"
"Sure, go ahead."
"Do you ever, you know, think about . . . them? That whole time?"
It was, perhaps, the most awkward question she'd ever asked him. But late at night, when she was at the point of going to sleep, Jessica pondered it too. As if the video message had not been enough, here was Gerard "Hawk" Nowlan, a once-famous hero of the Union during the heyday of the Terran-Draxx war. Son of the infamous rogue the media had called "The Tattooed Man," back in the day. Now he went by the name Dollar. And he was undeniable proof of another timeline. Proof of a version of herself that had lived and died in the service of the crew she loved.
I will do you proud, she'd once told herself, late at night, as she lay contemplating what had happened. You died for them. You died for me. I will not let all of that be in vain.
"I think about it sometimes," Dollar admitted. "But I try not to. It'll drive yuh mad, y'know? I can't say I don't miss 'em from time to time though."