The Last Flight of the Argus

by E. R. Torre

  “You issued the command to eject the hydroponic level tinsel glass?”

  “I didn’t know how close you were to it. I was afraid you would die along with Balthazar. It must have been quite a sight.”

  “It was like seeing the Argus let out one last breath.”

  “She was a magnificent ship, B’taav. I wish you could have seen her back then, before…” Nathaniel shook his head. “I miss my crew and I miss my ship. They deserved better.”

  “Did you...is she destroyed?”

  “Yes.” The boy pointed to his head. “And it won't be long before the memories Francis Lane implanted within this body will also be gone, as I'm sure you're aware.”

  B'taav was. Even the most successful memory imprints were like shooting stars. In a few years’ time, perhaps less, there would be little of those memories left within the boy. With stunted mental growth, he'd be lucky if he eventually become a semi-functioning adult.

  “I wish there was certainty Captain Nathaniel Torin would finally get his rest,” the boy continued.

  “Francis Lane wasn't carrying the real Geist Cube, was she?”

  “You're a mind reader, B'taav.”

  “So I've been told.”

  “The group behind Francis Lane, they'll be back. If they discover what happened here, they may even come after all of you.”

  “What happened here will be kept secret.”

  “They still have the Geist Cube, and there remain memories within it that could make up for this loss, even if they don't know it.”

  “Did you tell the others?”

  “No. Maddox is a small man in what was ultimately a very small organization. Inquisitor Cer, she's...she's Phaecian. Despite her noble actions, it is difficult for me to trust someone from the other side. We were at war with them, after all.”

  “You're willing to trust a lowly Independent?”

  “You're hardly that,” the boy said. He produced a small diskette and handed it to B'taav. “Since we left the Argus, I've been making this recording. Most of what I know about Francis Lane and her organization is there, along with other information Captain Nathaniel Torin kept to himself. If you have any hopes for the Empire's future, you'll treat this material well.”

  B'taav took the disk.

  “If the people behind Francis Lane try anything, we'll deal with them.”

  “Take them lightly at your own peril.”

  There was a moment of awkward silence. The boy's gaze returned to the body of Captain Torin.

  “Why was I…he…out there?”

  “My only guess is that the surviving crew mutinied. They probably expelled him.”

  “No. They were loyal.”

  “I'm sure they were,” B’taav said. “But these circumstances were beyond extraordinary.”

  “No,” Nathaniel insisted. “I –he– must have been trying to save the ship. Maybe there was an accident, and…and he was somehow blown out...perhaps a faulty hatch gave way.”

  “Yeah. Maybe that’s what happened.”

  B’taav looked out the room’s tiny window. In the distance he spotted two fighter craft flying alongside the Xendos.

  “We’re being escorted to the Dakota,” Nathaniel said. “What will they do with us?”

  “Nothing. There’s nothing more to be done. Where are the others?”

  “Inquisitor Cer is piloting the ship,” Nathaniel said. “Maddox’s at her side.”

  “Oh? They didn’t take him to get medical care?”

  “They wanted him to come with them but refused. He told them to patch him up as best they could and let him take the Xendos back in. Either he’s the strongest man in the universe, or the stupidest.”

  “Probably both,” B'taav said.

  The two shared a short laugh

  “What did he tell them, about his injuries?”

  “That the Mercs were responsible. It was an easy enough lie to tell.”

  “Yeah. I suppose. I better go talk to them.”

  Inquisitor Cer and Maddox were in the Xendos' cockpit just as the boy said.

  “Remind me never to book any vacations with you,” Maddox told the Independent when he entered the room.

  Though the Titus bartender’s features remained pale, the wound on his leg was freshly dressed with a sophisticated milky white compress. A low hum came from within the dressing. Machinery fed medicine as well as regenerative tissue into Maddox’s wound. In time and with the proper procedures, it was possible for Maddox to eventually grow a reasonably analogous artificial limb, provided his body could take it. Perhaps in a matter of a year or two he might even be able to walk on it.

  “The crew of the Tango fighter ships at our side insisted on boarding us after the Argus blew,” Maddox said. “Since the Xendos remains the property of the Phaecian Empire, they had to ask Inquisitor Cer, our only Phaecian representative, permission to come aboard.”

  “No sense being rude to our gracious hosts,” Inquisitor Cer said. “Their medics gave Maddox, Nathaniel, and you a good looking over.”

  “I’ll have to thank them for their care,” B’taav said. “What else did I miss?”

  “There were more than a few Blue Rogues among the boarding party. They insisted our ship also get a proper looking over, in case of any mechanical issues.”

  “A formality, I'm sure,” B'taav said.

  “While looking over the engines they somehow...accidentally I'm sure, checked the computer banks. They were no doubt pleased to see we didn’t have any illegal Royal Epsillon Fleet information stored within.”

  “What about Stephen Gray, Francis Lane, and Saro Triste?”

  “Saro Triste was lost on the Argus. The Blue Rogues took away the bodies of the other two.”

  “What was the cause of death?”

  “A tragic accident,” Maddox said. “And that’s the way it’ll remain.”

  “What about you, B'taav? How are you feeling?” Inquisitor Cer asked.

  “Not bad, all things considering.”

  “Look,” Maddox interrupted. “There she is.”

  The crew of the Xendos stared at the view screen. The Dakota was visible in the far distance.

  “Lieutenant Daniels caught up with us after all,” Maddox said. “That is, if he was even chasing you to begin with. Care to share the whole story?”

  B’taav slipped into the Navigator’s chair and sighed. “I don’t know. This information is classified.”

  Inquisitor Cer gave Maddox a cold stare. “It is illegal for Inquisitors to share Empire secrets.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “I'm sorry, Maddox.”

  Maddox looked like a lost puppy.

  “The Independent and I need to discuss other matters now, and I must ask you to leave.”

  Maddox opened his mouth to protest.

  “No exceptions.”

  The Titus bartender nodded. He was about to rise from his chair when Inquisitor Cer spoke again.

  “Now that Maddox is gone, B’taav, perhaps we could share some information. On the condition, of course, that it remains between you and me.”

  A sly smile found its way onto Maddox’s face. He put the metal crutches away.

  “A few years ago, the Overlords began voicing... concerns...about some of Saro Triste's policies and activities,” Inquisitor Cer said. “I was assigned to his staff as his personal Inquisitor. In reality I was there as a spy for the Overlords. It wasn’t long before I discovered he was part of a Phaecian chapter of the organization Maddox and Frasier belonged to.”

  “There was a fear that Saro Triste’s priorities were, at best, improper, and at worse compromised. Yet none of his actions, other than being part of this shadowy group, proved he had betrayed his post. The group of twelve Overlords met to discuss his future and decided to be patient. They ordered the other Cardinals to do so as well and had me commit to finding all the details about Maddox's group. When I did shortly afterwards, the Overlords were in a quandary. They agreed with the need to k
eep information on the Solar System killers a secret, and therefore had no problem with Saro Triste being a part of this organization. However, the fact that he kept his involvement so secretive made my superiors suspicious. They feared he was using Maddox's group for his own ends.”

  “At some point Saro Triste changed from a man seeking peace to a man looking to uncover, and possess, the secrets of the Charybdis. His goal was obvious: To use the weapon to spread our holy word by force throughout the galaxy. We kept an eye on him and let him go about his other business, content that it was unlikely the Argus would ever be found. And then it was. The very next day, Saro Triste and I were on our way to Titus.”

  “I had little time to warn the Overlords of Saro Triste’s movements. When I did, they ordered me to get in touch with certain operatives inside Epsillon. It appeared people within your government had similar concerns about high ranking individuals on their side. I contacted General Jurgens, sending a single encrypted transmission to his operatives. I warned them of the search for the Argus and my fears the mission was perverted. Because of the intense scrutiny I faced from all members of this group, I did not identify myself. I told General Jurgens that if he managed to get someone to infiltrate us, they could identify me because I would claim not to know anything about this mission.”

  “I’ll be damned,” Maddox said.

  “I see you’ve returned to the cockpit, Mr. Maddox,” Inquisitor Cer said. “Finished stretching your legs?”

  “That’s cold,” Maddox said and smiled. “Since when do Inquisitors have a sense of humor?”

  “Your culture is very corrupting,” Cer deadpanned. “Anyway, I knew B'taav was Jurgens' inside agent, but because he was being watched so closely, it was impossible for me to reveal myself directly to him. Instead, I allowed B'taav to find the appropriate time. After Rasp's murder, we all gathered together and B'taav insisted on knowing what we were up to.”

  “I asked if everyone knew about this mission to find the Argus,” B’taav said. “Inquisitor Cer said she didn’t. After apologizing for speaking without Saro Triste’s permission, I told her not to worry…”

  Maddox could no longer contain himself.

  “...because you two were in the same boat,” Maddox said. “You communicated with each other right in front of us all!”

  “Inquisitor Cer’s response was what I needed, and I in turn gave her my acknowledgement.”

  “What about all that business about the Tamarin Campaign?”

  “Perhaps you don't recall, but when I first noted his supposed presence in that campaign, I said I recognized the information as false,” Inquisitor Cer said. “It was my way of offering him a means of making the others think we were at each other's throats. This proved helpful once B'taav entered the Argus, and Saro Triste tried to use my supposed hatred of the Independent to get me to kill him.”

  “What about Lieutenant Daniels? Was that an act, too?”

  “He and I don’t see eye to eye,” B’taav admitted. “In fact, he doesn’t like me much at all, for the reasons I stated before. But he was following General Jurgens’ orders. He was to make things hot on Titus and make sure I came across as a hunted man. That got you guys thinking, at the appropriate time, that I would be worth the risk of taking along on your mission.”

  “It worked,” Maddox said. “With most of them, anyway.”

  “But why all this deceit? Daniels had an overwhelming force at Titus. Why not simply run us down, get all the information we have on the Argus, and go destroy her?”

  “Last I heard, the highest ranking members of both governments knew the Argus was about to be found,” B'taav said. “Phaecian and Epsillon leaders were in the process of mobilizing their fleets on both sides of Erebus. There was a very real fear things could escalate to war. After several rounds of diplomacy, a course of action was agreed to. The Phaecians knew Inquisitor Cer was dedicated to destroying the Argus and would not be corrupted. Our side needed their own agent in your midst, and by circumstance I was available and had a decent cover story to explain my being here.”

  “Pursuing Accelerant supplies?”

  “When we finally took off from Titus, we were to be pursued. Hard, but not too hard. Once we found and boarded the Argus, we had four hours to set off her self-destruct mechanism. Had we not done so, the Dakota would have bombed her until she was in pieces, regardless of whether we were aboard or not.”

  The bridge grew quiet. The Dakota neared.

  “What about Nathaniel?” Maddox asked.

  “He's useless to anyone now,” B'taav lied. “The Argus is gone and whatever security codes he has in his head are worthless. As Francis Lane herself said, he was the ship's captain. He could no more replicate the device than any of us could.”

  “Then the danger is over,” Inquisitor Cer said. Although he couldn't be sure, B'taav detected a note of suspicion in her voice. Perhaps she too realized eliminating Saro Triste, Stephen Gray, and Francis Lane didn't mean their organization's end.

  “The flotillas will stand down, and peace between our Empires continues,” B'taav said and smiled.

  “Exactly what I was thinking,” Inquisitor said. “Perhaps I am something of a mind reader after all.”

  Inquisitor Cer offered the Independent her own smile. It was frosty. The Independent no longer had any doubt that she too worried about the future.

  “We’re agreed then,” Maddox added. He was blissfully unaware of the unspoken messages between Independent and Inquisitor. “We'll make sure Nathaniel is treated as an innocent in this whole affair.”

  “Agreed.”

  The three stared out the front window and at the Dakota.

  In only a few minutes they would arrive at the Epsillon battleship.

  CHAPTER SIXTY NINE

  The Xendos flew into the main landing bay of the Dakota and touched down. After atmosphere was pumped into the area, the decompression doors of the Xendos and Dakota opened.

  Inquisitor Cer, Nathaniel, Maddox, and B’taav exited the ship. A large group of officers stepped off a lift and approached them. At the head of the group were Lieutenant Daniels, General Jurgens, and, standing at General Jurgens’ side, Jonah Merrick.

  Another man dressed in flowing robes accompanied the group but kept his distance. B'taav recognized him as Overlord Octo, one of the twelve most powerful Phaecian Overlords.

  “Permission to come aboard,” Inquisitor Cer said. She offered a crisp military salute.

  “Permission granted,” General Jurgens said. He mirrored the Inquisitor's salute and said, “You must be exhausted. Please allow my men to escort you and Overlord Octo to your quarters. Should either of you need anything, food, medicine, whatever, please ask.”

  “We appreciate your hospitality,” Overlord Octo replied for his subject. “Our ship may require service. I’m certain your officers can provide this without forgetting the Xendos is property of the Holy Phaecian Fleet.”

  “Absolutely,” General Jurgens said. He motioned to several of the crewmembers standing behind him. “Provide whatever services Inquis...Overlord Octo requires. I want the ship in tip top shape.”

  The crewmembers saluted and spread out. One group, armed with computers and tools equipment walked up to the entry ramp of the Xendos.

  “You won’t find anything,” B’taav told the General and the Overlord.

  “This is reassuring to hear,” Overlord Octo said. “However, there is no reason for mistrust, is there, Inquisitor?”

  “No sir. General Jurgens' technicians may board the ship as they please.”

  General Jurgens nodded and the technicians headed into the craft. When they were gone, Inquisitor Cer motioned to the Overlord.

  “Permission to speak, sir?”

  “Granted.”

  Inquisitor Cer addressed General Jurgens and said:

  “Your agent served admirably. I hope one day his work is recognized and properly rewarded.”

  “Perhaps it will be,” General Jurgens acknow
ledged.

  “As should yours, Inquisitor Cer,” B'taav added for the benefit of the Overlord.

  Inquisitor Cer offered General Jurgens another crisp salute before stepping away from the group. Both Overlord Octo and she, along with a couple of escorts, headed for the lift.

  “You look better, Mr. Maddox,” General Jurgens said when they were gone. “However, it would be wise to get you and Nathaniel to our medical center.”

  The last of the escorts appeared at Maddox and Nathaniel's side. Maddox tensed, but relaxed when B'taav laid his hand on the man's shoulder.

  “They'll take good care of you,” the Independent said. “I'll come down to visit shortly.”

  Maddox nodded. Both he and Nathaniel were taken to the lift, leaving B’taav, General Jurgens, Lieutenant Daniels, and Jonah Merrick alone on the deck.

  “Who is the boy?” Merrick asked.

  “His name is Nathaniel,” B’taav replied. “He was adopted by Francis Lane. She couldn’t bear to part with him, so she took him along on the trip.”

  “That’s surprising,” Merrick said. “Given the gravity of her mission, wouldn’t she feel bringing along a child would be a burden?”

  “I’d be the last person to ask about what was going on in Francis Lane’s mind.”

  “He's missing a finger. How was he injured?”

  “The liftoff from the Argus was...hurried. His injury was accidental.”

  It was an easy enough lie to tell.

  “What of the Charybdis bomb? Did you get any of the schematics?”

  “Not a one.”

  The Industrialist nodded.

  “Just as well. It wouldn't be of much use, anyway.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s been two hundred years since the Erebus War. In all that time neither Empire was able to make even one regular sized juggernaut, much less anything approaching the dimensions of the Argus. We have neither the materials, the manpower, nor, frankly, the interest in doing so. You do know why the ship was so damn large, right?”