by Tony Healey
"Fifteen," Will said.
"Jesus."
He grinned. "It's good to see you, Jess. It's been so long."
"Too long," she corrected him.
"Yeah . . ."
"I never thought I'd be sat on a black ops ship, drinking a coffee with Will Ardai," she said, shaking her head.
"That makes two of us," Will said. "I never thought I'd be having a coffee with myself one day, either. But here we are."
Jessica laughed. "Still the same Will. Bad jokes and all."
"You're not the same as I remember you," he said, now serious.
"I'm not?" she asked. She got up, stepped closer to him, put her own cup on the side. "What's changed?"
"You're more serious. Like you've seen stuff. Experienced things. I can spot it a mile off. The years have been eventful for you, haven't they?"
If only you knew, Will. The years have been hard.
"What else?" she asked, moving closer. Will put his cup next to hers. Out of the way. Reading the signs.
"You look different in another way."
"How d'you mean?"
Now it was his turn to move close to her. Their faces were mere inches apart. "You're not a girl anymore. I see a woman. A strong, confident, beautiful woman. More beautiful than ever I remembered her."
His hands went to her hips. He held her there, his mouth so close to her ear his breath tickled as he whispered: "The girl she was pales in comparison . . ."
She responded with a kiss. Deep, passionate. As if the years weren't an empty gulf between them. As if the time that had passed had not done so at all.
They held each other in a tight embrace, and she sighed in his arms. Somehow, it felt like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. The simple comfort of being in his arms, after so long, had worked its unique and inexplicable magic on her. "Will . . ."
He kissed the top of her head. "By the way, the ship? We call her the Spectre."
"Spectre as in shadow," she said with a giggle. "Imaginative."
"I originally suggested Rosalita, but the skipper wasn't having any of it. Can't imagine why. I love that song . . ."
*
He led her through the ship by the hand. It should have felt awkward. Unreal, perhaps, to have an old flame holding her hand as if they were lovers.
But there it was. It didn't feel strange. His hand, bigger than hers – the skin rough to the touch – didn't feel out of place in hers. It was like a warm glove.
As much as it seemed so natural, it also hadn't left the back of her mind how surprising it was that their passion for one another had returned so quickly.
"Here's the crew's quarters. As you can see, there's barely room for a bunk and some shelves. There's a communal shower and head. It's not ideal, but there it is."
They continued on. She didn't need him to tell her they were headed for the Spectre's bridge.
"Go on, have a nose," Will invited her. He stood to one side at the door as she walked in.
A viewscreen extended from one side to the other, a curved sheet of glass. A helm console down the front, a station for weapons and tactical to the left. Sciences and communications on the right. In the centre, the captain's chair.
"Small, but perfectly functional. I take it you have three crew up here, plus the Captain. Two crew in the back, with the engines and reactor."
"Correct. It's pretty simple. She's not a complicated ship, to be honest. The viewscreen is the latest display. A prototype. She's packing weaponry you've never heard of, Jess. I can't even tell you what some of them are, they're so far above your security clearance," he said.
"Wow," she said, impressed. "So even the tech on a classified ship is classified."
"I man the weapons and tactical. We've got a great guy, he's called Kalar. You know, a Xantian. He flies. The advantage to him is that he never sleeps because, you know, the Xantian's . . . well, they just don't. And he has six arms, so controlling the helm is a piece of cake. I don't think the Union has a better pilot," Will said.
"A Xantian pilot. Makes sense," Jessica said.
"Come on, let's get to the engineering room. I want you to see something."
*
It was as small and cramped as the bridge, but she hardly noticed. Jessica's attention was drawn to the furious light emitted by the Spectre's reactor core. It sparkled and shimmered, emitting a deep yellow light from the observation windows to either side of it. To the casual observer, the core might have looked like a simple column in the middle of the room but for the pipes leading away from it at the top. It's the tree that feeds the whole ship, she thought.
"And this," Will said. He took her to the far end of the room. A unit stood dark against the wall, showed no sign of life at all. But she'd have been surprised if it had. "Know what it is?"
"Is that your Jump drive?"
He nodded.
"Obviously I recognise the tech, but I've never seen one like that. You say she gives you nine Jumpquarts?" Jessica said with a shake of her head.
"Yep. What does the Defiant do?"
"I think between four and five, depending."
"So whatever journey you make, we'd do the same in half the time. In fact we could theoretically fly to your destination and back again in the time it took you to get there," he said.
"All right, don't rub it in," she said with a smirk. "I already feel outdated."
"Trust me, every ship in the Union is, compared with some of the stuff we've got on here," he said. "This new tech, some of it you won't start seeing in Union ships for another couple of years."
They left the engineering room. "Where's the other crew? Are you on here by yourself?"
"I'm afraid so," he said. "They like to get out and about when we moor up anywhere. A regular bunch of sightseers, that lot. Roughneck tourists," Will said.
Jessica stopped. "So we're alone?"
"Yeah . . ."
She moved in close. "Then there won't be anyone to see us do this, will there?"
Jessica didn't wait for him to respond. Her mouth once again found his. Her tongue caressed Will's, her hand going to the side of his face. She felt his well-defined jaw, the scratchy day's worth of stubble there. The back of his neck.
He broke it off. Looked deep into her eyes. "Jess, where's this going?"
She didn't have an answer. Instead she searched his face for one, but found no solace there. Just a strangely familiar comfort. "I don't know. Why don't we see what happens?" she suggested.
"Yeah. Sounds good to me," he said.
*
He walked her to the airlock and kissed her one last time.
"I really must go," she said. "I need to break some news to my crew."
"What sort of news?"
"The kind they won't want to hear," she said. "Will I see you again?"
"I'd like it if you did," he said.
She felt something pang inside her chest like an emotional rubber band. "I really wish we'd stayed in touch. I don't know why we didn't."
"It's just the way it was," Will said. He reached up, pushed a lock of hair away from her face. "But that doesn't mean it has to be that way now, Jess."
He gave her a soft kiss on the lips, so tender it turned her legs to jelly. She turned and left before she found herself unable to do so. As she walked away, she heard the airlock seal behind her and though she knew he couldn't possibly be standing there, watching her depart, she still turned her head to look.
Of course he wasn't.
I'm a fool, she thought. A complete fool. We've not even spoken for years and now we're kissing like a couple of teens again. What's up with that?
But as ridiculous as the situation may have felt, she knew it was right. It all seemed so natural to be in his arms again, to feel his lips against hers. Exactly the way it had been before.
Del tried telling me I'd neglected my love life for far too long, she thought as she walked away. Perhaps he was right.
6.
"So you want me to pass th
is on to the crew," Chang said. She looked down at the data tablet in her hand and sighed. "I just can't believe they're going to mothball us."
Jessica glanced around the room. Mickey's bar was busy as ever. It always had been a highlight for visits to the station, even when she'd been a cadet. They sat at the bar. Jessica picked up her glass, swirled the liquor in the bottom about, the ice cube clinking with each movement. "We have to accept it, Lisa. After all, we're here to serve."
"Doesn't mean I have to like it," Chang said.
"No. It doesn't. And for the record, I'm just as angry as you. But there's very little I can do about it. The real concern is what's to come of us. I don't know if I'm ready for this family to be broken up, posted to different ships," Jessica said. "It feels wrong, somehow."
"Have you met this Admiral Kerrick yet?"
She shook her head. "Not yet. I'm due to see him later tomorrow. Hopefully I'll have some answers."
Chang shrugged. She lifted her glass, offered a toast. "To the Defiant. And her valiant crew," she said. "Whatever becomes of them."
"I'll drink to that," Jessica said. They touched glasses then downed their drinks.
Chang stood, the data tablet under her arm. "I'll get on this straight away. Make sure everyone from the Defiant is in the know."
"Okay Commander," Jessica said with a weak smile. She waited until her second in command had left before ordering another drink.
"Is that a medicinal remedy prescribed by your personal physician?" a voice asked her from behind. She cocked her head to one side. Dr. Clayton settled onto the stool Chang had previously occupied. "May I?"
"Of course. Drink?"
He shook his head. "It's usually a bit rowdy in here for me. But I thought I'd pop my head in, see if I spotted a familiar face. Imagine my surprise when I saw you in here."
"By familiar face you mean me, correct?"
"I guess so."
She sipped her drink. "Is there a problem, doctor?"
"Several in fact, but I'll keep it simple. I've been leaving you messages that have gone unacknowledged. Why?"
"I didn't feel the need to answer them."
"Meaning, you didn't want to talk, am I right?"
"Maybe."
"Why? It doesn't make sense, Jess."
Jessica drained her drink, slammed the glass down on the counter. It went unnoticed amid the clamour of the bar, but it made the correct impression on Clayton.
"Perhaps I don't want to talk to you about my feelings, Doctor. Perhaps I don't want to have to explain the way I've been hurting since the Commander died."
"It helps to talk about it," Clayton told her, his voice lowered. "You shouldn't bottle it all up inside."
"No, you're right. Damn right. I shouldn't. But you know what? As the captain of that ship out there, I don't have a choice. What do you want me to do about that, eh?"
The barman put another shot in front of her. Jessica reached for it but Clayton got there first. He moved it away, his hand over the glass. "It's not the answer," he said firmly.
"No? And what is?"
"How about putting yourself to use and try finding that woman? She's responsible for this, not you," he said.
"You're talking about vengeance, doctor. Wrath. One of the big guns when it comes to sins I believe. I'm not sure that's part of basic instruction at the academy these days," she said sarcastically. "Turn every opponent into your own personal Moby Dick."
"No, well, I don't expect it is. But sometimes the old ways still work. I don't think your Father would have sat around, knocking back cheap booze. He'd have been out there, doing what he could."
"That's not fair to bring him into it," she said. "And anyway, it's out of my hands. They're taking the Defiant away from me."
"That's unfortunate. I didn't know that." Clayton eyed the drink warily. "What is this garbage anyway?"
Jessica looked up. "Tarcalian Tequila."
Clayton shrugged and downed it one go. His face contorted in revulsion as the aftertaste hit. It was enough to make her giggle. "Woah . . ." he gasped.
She couldn't help but laugh, her anger dissipating, as it always did. "You're meant to ease yourself in. That would have been my fifth."
"Gut rot," he gasped.
"Maybe," she said, the laughter subsiding. "Listen, Doctor. I didn't mean to be rude. Or aggressive. Or whatever. But this is a confusing time for me right now. Del's gone and by the looks of things, my ship and my crew are going to follow suit. On top of that I just bumped into an old flame of mine."
"Really? What, and there's still something there?"
"I think so, yeah. Definitely. And I should be riding high after that, but I'll tell you what, the reality of what I have to tell my crew just hit me. I needed a drink. I needed to feel sorry for myself again."
"Then I'll tell you what I think your Father would've told you, if he were still around. Don't let things go. Hang on. Take it from an old man who's spent his whole life in space. I never settled down with anyone, I never went after the things I wanted," Clayton said. "If they're taking away the means to hunt Cessqa down, then find another way. If this guy is someone special, Jess, then don't let him out of your sights. Time's ticking on. All the time you sit in dives like this, it passes all the quicker."
"Yes. Yes, you're right," she said, sitting straighter.
"Don't just sit on your ass waiting for others to make the decisions for you. There's gotta be something you can do to influence things . . ."
He got up, patted her once on the shoulder and started walking away. Jessica reached out, caught his wrist. The Doctor turned back.
"Doctor, there might be something," she said. "Do you remember telling me what your friend saw on Outland?"
"Yeah. Why?"
She smiled. "Can you spare an hour?"
*
"Thanks this will come in handy," Captain Shaw said. "That gives us a name and a face to track down when we get there."
"Well, whatever I can do," Clayton said. He dismissed himself and Jessica watched him go.
"That could be the lead that breaks it for us," Shaw said. "You've saved us a lot of work hunting down the witnesses."
"Yes I thought it might come in handy," she said. They stood outside the airlock. On the other side, the Spectre stood prepped for departure. "Is Commander Ardai not about?"
"I'm afraid not. We're about to go. Did you, uh, want me to pass something onto him?" Shaw asked awkwardly.
"Oh no. Just tell him . . . tell him I'll be in touch," Jessica said.
"Uh huh," Shaw said. He gave his thanks once more, then bid her farewell. "I'll keep you posted, Captain."
"Thanks," she said.
Captain Shaw went back to the Spectre and she stood there a while longer, wondering if she should wait until it left. But she decided against it, decided to just go. Decided to get the ball rolling. The doctor had been right. There were still things to do. With or without a ship.
Whatever happened.
Vengeance.
At first it seemed a dark word. Something untoward. But on reflection, it meant so much to her. After all, Cessqa was not the only one responsible for Del's death. There was, for example, whoever had ordered the Enigmabreached in the first place – ordered a team to go in there and steal some of Cessqa's crew. And there were the engineers behind the hybrids Grimshaw and Captain Shaw told her about.
Weren't they all similarly to blame for what happened?
She walked to the nearest comm. panel and found the designation for Dr. Gentry. He didn't answer straight away. "Hello? Who's there? What time is it?"
"Doctor Gentry. It's Captain King."
"Oh, hello," he said. His voice was groggy, as if he'd been in a deep sleep. "Uh . . . what can I do for you?"
"I'm on my way."
"Well, that is to say, I, uh, I've just woke up . . ."
"Then grab a shower, cause I'm coming," she said and cut the connection.
Time to work, she thought.
; 7.
Commander Chang looked from one face to the other and realised with dawning dread that she hadn't the foggiest idea how to begin.
Why was I chosen for this? she asked herself. Because with Greene gone, I'm now the second in command . . .
It hadn't occurred to her that she would be filling the void Del had left behind. A terrible thought, to think rank was an endlessly rotating wheel of opportunity. One person moved on, or died and you got your chance to do your best in their place.
It was enough to make her shudder.
The head of every section on the Defiant was present in the conference room. They chatted amongst themselves as she prepared her notes. Carefully written out, revised twice before leaving her quarters on the station – and yet now she found herself unable to even look at them.
The words she'd scribbled on the data tablet didn't even make sense. They were as good as garbled hieroglyphics.
Nerves. Calm down, she told herself.
"Excuse me, everyone," Chang said.
They continued to talk, oblivious to what she'd said.
"Excuse me!" Chang snapped. All chatter died away. "That's more like it. Please be seated."
She waited for the room to be completely still before breaking out the bad news.
"The Captain has asked me to hold this meeting as she is currently indisposed aboard the station. I'm afraid I have some bad news. Please be sure to pass this on to the rest of the crew after the meeting."
Captain, why can't you be here doing this?
She cleared her throat. "We have been informed that the Defiant is due to be decommissioned. Details are forthcoming, but far as we can tell, there will be no further expeditions in this vessel," Chang said. There were several gasps from those in attendance, but nobody dared to interrupt. They were eager for details. To pre-empt questions, Chang eagerly continued. "That's all we know. A combination of her age, and the amount of resources it will take to refit her yet again make such an effort an unviable option in the eyes of top brass. Rest assured, the Captain is as shocked by this news as I imagine you all are."
She looked at the Chief. Meryl sat with her head down, looking at her hands. Not a good sign. She'd never been one to stay quiet, to withdraw into herself.