by Ryk Brown
And so Nathan stood there, staring at himself in the mirror above the tiny sink in his private head. The man he had seen there more than an hour ago had been both familiar and unfamiliar, at the same time. Now that he was clean-shaven, and his hair was a bit neater, he felt more like himself. It was as if he had trimmed away the last vestiges of Connor Tuplo, finally releasing his true identity as Nathan Scott, after all these years.
For the first time since he had been awakened, he was starting to believe that the identities of Connor and Nathan would indeed one day combine, instead of clash.
Nathan wiped his face, taking one last look in the mirror. He was still a far sight from the image of Captain Nathan Scott. In fact, he was more like the Nathan Scott who had reported for basic training more than thirteen years ago.
Thirteen years. Has it really been that long?
In the mirror, he saw the face of a twenty-five year old. But this body had been grown in a single year.
Was that a single Earth year, or a single Corinairan year? How old was he? Was it simple math? The current Earth year minus his birth year? Was his age measured physically? Was he twenty-five, or thirty-seven? Or was it something in between?
Nathan decided he’d make that call later, when and if it became necessary.
He left the head, returning to his cabin. Cameron had offered to send him a uniform, but he opted against it. He was not technically a member of the Alliance, and as of now, his role was undefined. Better not to confuse anyone, least of all himself.
To that end, he had opted for a highbred approach to his attire. Alliance uniform boots and pants, but his usual long-sleeved shirt, and long black overcoat. It gave him the look of a renegade, something that seemed appropriate for the role he was likely expected to play as Na-Tan. It made him look confident, and rebellious. Someone willing to take chances. It was a look he rather liked.
Na-Tan.
A role he had hesitated to play nine years ago, the first time he found himself, and this ship…his ship…facing an overwhelming enemy in the Pentaurus cluster. But it had proven invaluable back then, just as it would now. People needed a leader. Someone they could look up to. Someone they could follow. Someone they believed could lead them to victory.
The question was, could he do it again?
The first time, their victory had been the result of a superior technology, the jump drive, and a lot of lucky breaks. This time, the enemy had the jump drive as well, which meant they would have to outthink them, instead of simply jumping out of the line of fire.
Nathan hated to think about it, as it seemed an insurmountable problem. But he would take it on the same way that he took on challenges in the past. One step at a time.
The fact that he was already thinking about the problem, instead of wrestling with his own inner confusions, gave him hope.
Nathan donned his overcoat, opened the door, and left his cabin, heading aft down the short corridor along the Seiiki’s port cabins. He stepped through the aft hatch onto the catwalk above the cargo deck, stepping onto the ladder and instinctively sliding down the rails to the deck below.
Wow. Nathan stood there a moment, thinking. He had slid down ladders before, but not this particular ladder. At least not as Nathan. But he had done so many times as Connor.
“Looks like you’ve got your motor skills back,” Jessica commented from the top of the Seiiki’s cargo ramp.
Nathan turned to look at her. “Yeah,” he replied, looking at his hands in surprise. “Looks like.” He glanced back at Jessica. “That’s good, right?”
“I would guess so.”
Nathan scanned the cargo bay. “Where’s everyone at?”
“If by ‘everyone’ you mean your crew, then most of them are topside, repairing some of the damage your ship took during our escape. Neli’s at supply.”
“Supply?” Nathan asked, as he took a few steps toward her.
“Marcus made out like you were low on food, so Cameron agreed to let her stock up on a few things.”
“We’re not low on food,” Nathan said. “The Ghatazhak loaded us up before we left.”
“I know. But what’s the harm? The Aurora is fully loaded, but has only half her crew. She can spare a few things. Besides, better that the Seiiki is as stocked up as she can be. We have no idea what her next mission will be.” Jessica gestured down the ramp. “Shall we?”
Nathan followed Jessica down the ramp and out across the main hangar deck.
“Cap’n!” Josh called from on top of the Seiiki.
Nathan turned around, walking backward a few steps, as he looked back at the Seiiki, spotting Josh, Loki, and Marcus, working on the top of his ship.
Josh flashed Nathan a thumbs up for the new look, a broad smile across his face. Nathan smiled back as he turned around and continued on his way.
“It’s good to finally have him back,” Josh said.
“Maybe now we can stop babysittin’ his ass,” Marcus grumbled, as he returned to his work.
Josh watched Nathan and Jessica disappear around the corner. “I have a feelin’ the easy part’s over.”
* * *
The guard at the port entrance to the Aurora’s bridge snapped to attention as Nathan and Jessica entered the short airlock tunnel that led from the command deck corridor to the bridge itself. Nathan felt completely familiar with this part of the Aurora, as he had spent two years of his life aboard this ship, most of it on this very deck.
They came out of the tunnel and onto the bridge, to the left of the communications station aft. The entire bridge was bathed in a blue light. Nathan found his eyes transfixed on the main semi-spherical view screen that wrapped around and above the forward half of the Aurora’s bridge. Although more than half of it was currently adorned with various rectangles containing tactical and navigational data, there was still plenty of real estate displaying the view outside.
Ensign deBanco stood at the comms station, watching as Nathan and Jessica strolled by. As they moved forward toward Cameron, more of the bridge crew began to stare at him as well.
Cameron rose from her command chair, realizing that Nathan had arrived. “Oh my God,” she said, her words escaping her lips by accident. “You really do look younger.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t have shaved so closely?” Nathan replied, rubbing his smooth chin.
“Maybe,” Cameron commented. “But this is definitely better.”
Commander Kaplan came around the starboard side of the tactical station, stepping forward.
“Nathan, Jessica, this is my executive officer, Commander Lara Kaplan. Commander, this is Lieutenant Jessica Nash, of the Ghatazhak, and Captain Nathan Scott.”
“Commander,” Nathan greeted, shaking her hand.
“It’s an honor to meet you, both,” Commander Kaplan replied, her eyes fixed on Nathan. “She’s right. You do look young.”
“Story of my life,” Nathan replied. He looked around the bridge, then back at the main view screen. “I see you finally put the fishbowl to good use.”
“We just expanded on your ideas,” Cameron replied.
“Big blue?” Nathan asked, pointing at the view screen.
“We’re just about to our jump point,” Cameron said. “Mister Bickle?”
“Two minute, twenty seconds, sir,” the navigator replied.
“I’m a bit surprised,” Nathan said. “The flight deck has changed so much, I sort of expected the bridge to have changed as well.”
“Not much to improve upon,” Cameron replied. “Not since the last refit under your command.”
Nathan turned to his left, spotting a familiar face. “Kono?”
“Yes, sir,” the sensor officer replied, standing. “It’s good to see you again, Captain.”
“You too. You’re
a lieutenant commander now. Congratulations.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“This is Ensign Bickle, our navigator, and Lieutenant Dinev, our helmsman,” Cameron continued.
“Pleasure to meet you both,” Nathan greeted.
“And Lieutenant Commander Vidmar is our tactical officer.”
“Lieutenant Commander,” Nathan greeted with a nod.
“A pleasure, Captain.”
“Well, I suppose I should at least thank you all for rescuing me,” Nathan addressed the group. “So, thanks.” He looked at Jessica.
“Very smooth,” she commented under her breath.
“One minute, Captain,” Ensign Bickle warned.
General Telles entered the bridge next, coming up behind them. For the first time in all the years she had known him, Jessica thought she saw surprise on the general’s face when Nathan turned to greet him.
“General,” Nathan greeted.
“Captain,” the general replied, after an awkward pause. “Quite the change.”
“For the better, I hope.”
“Yes, but next time, I think you should consider not shaving quite as closely. A day’s growth might make you look a little less…youthful?”
“So I’ve been told,” Nathan replied.
“Thirty seconds to jump point,” Mister Bickle warned.
“Would you like to take the conn?” Cameron offered, gesturing toward the command chair.
“Perhaps that’s not such a…”
“It would help to make an impression on the fleet upon your arrival,” General Telles suggested.
Nathan sighed, unsure. “Very well,” he finally agreed, taking a seat. “If you insist.”
Nathan sat down in the familiar chair. Although he had memories of the last five years as Connor Tuplo, to the part of him that was Nathan, it felt like just recently that he had sat in this very chair.
There was something special about it. He didn’t do much while sitting here. It wasn’t like on the Seiiki, where he was actively participating in the flying of the ship. Here, he had a few display controls and some comms controls, and very little else. This was a chair where one sat and thought about all that was happening, both within one’s ship, and outside. This was the position from which one wielded their will…out there. This was the position from which one could affect change…serious change.
It was an incredible feeling of power, even though, technically, he didn’t have the power at the moment. That belonged to Cameron. Part of him wanted the seat as his own again, yet part of him did not. He wondered for a moment, if the part that did not, was Connor. As Connor, he had wandered the Pentaurus sector and the surrounding sectors. He had interacted directly with locals at nearly every port of call. He had taken missions, and turned away missions. His only responsibility had been for his crew of four, and his small ship. It had been a good life. Trying, at times, but good nonetheless. And for a moment, he wondered why he had left it behind.
“Ten seconds,” Mister Bickle warned.
Nathan looked at Cameron, who nodded. “Cleared to jump, Mister Bickle,” Nathan instructed. The words rolled off his tongue naturally.
“Cleared to jump, aye… In three…”
There had been a time when he hated the responsibility of commanding this ship. All he had wanted was to get away from Earth, from his family, from all the expectations…
“…Two…”
But it seemed that wherever he went, great responsibility was thrust upon him. He remembered never feeling ready… Never feeling like he was qualified to make decisions that affected billions of lives.
“…One…”
But for some odd reason, he now felt ready.
“…Jumping.”
There was no jump flash, as the light spilling through the partially covered view screen from the nearby blue-giant was already brighter than the Aurora’s jump flash. Instead, the blue light that illuminated the interior simply reverted back to normal levels.
“Jump one complete.”
“Continue the series,” Nathan instructed, his instincts kicking in.
Cameron looked at Jessica, who was beaming, then at the general, who showed no emotion at all.
“Continuing series,” Ensign Bickle acknowledged.
“Adjusting course,” Lieutenant Dinev reported, as the Aurora began a slight turn to starboard.
“Second jump in three…”
Nathan already knew the final series by heart, having memorized it as Connor, before they had departed for the mission to Corinair. There were a total of eleven jumps in this series, with small course and speed corrections in between each jump that were just enough of a change to make it impossible to determine their final destination prior to their scheduled departure.
“It really is a brilliant little algorithm,” Cameron commented, as the next jump flash washed over the bridge. “I’m surprised Loki came up with it. I didn’t realize he was so adept in such things.”
“It was a joint effort, between Loki, Josh, and Deliza,” Jessica explained. “However, the gist of it was Loki’s idea.”
“That makes a little more sense,” Cameron said.
“Its main goal is to make the trace difficult enough to ensure that the fleet has jumped to a new location prior to their discovery,” General Telles explained further. “Based on our observations, it should take the Dusahn more than a week to complete the trace, if they were devoting every resource available to the effort, which is unlikely. Nevertheless, the fleet executes an evasive pattern on a daily basis, just to be sure.”
“Wise precaution,” Cameron agreed, as another jump flash washed over them.
“How many ships are in this fleet of yours?” Commander Kaplan wondered.
“At present, the Glendanon, the Morsiko-Tavi, and two pod haulers,” General Telles replied. “Along with a combat jumper, a cargo jumper, and a handful of Takaran Rakers.”
“That’s it?”
“And the Aurora, of course,” the general added.
“I’m not sure that two cargo ships and a single warship constitutes a fleet,” the commander joked.
“We have plans to expand, once we have taken care of our more pressing needs,” the general told her, as another jump flash washed over the bridge.
“What sort of needs?” Cameron wondered.
“Our most pressing need is to find accommodations for more than one thousand persons who were evacuated from Burgess.”
“Where are they now?” Commander Kaplan asked.
“Living in makeshift dorms inside class-one cargo pods, stacked within the Glendanon’s cargo bay,” General Telles explained.
“It’s not pretty,” Jessica added.
“Is that even safe?” the commander wondered.
“Not very,” the general admitted. “Additional shielding is being erected, but it will likely not be sufficient for the long term.”
“You couldn’t just put them on the surface somewhere?”
“You’d be risking the occupants of that world,” Cameron surmised.
“Precisely,” the general agreed. “The Dusahn, much like the Jung, employ the strategy of fear, shock, and horror, to control the masses. If we wish to garner support from the people, it must be provided covertly. Maintaining a mobile base of operations is the only viable alternative at this point.”
“Last jump coming up, sir.”
“Very well,” Cameron replied. “Oops, sorry,” she apologized to Nathan.
Nathan just smiled, as the last jump flash washed over them. When it cleared, the Glendanon, and the much smaller Morsiko-Tavi, were directly ahead.
“Sensors?” Nathan asked.
“Only the two contacts, sir,” Lieutenant Commander Kono replied.
“Tactical?”
“Threat board is clear,” Lieutenant Commander Vidmar answered.
“Mister deBanco,” Nathan said. “Contact both ships, and bring them up on vid-link, main screen.”
“Aye, sir,” the ensign answered.
Cameron, Jessica, Commander Kaplan, and General Telles all stepped back from Nathan. Less than a minute later, two screens popped up in the middle of the forward view screen, with the faces of Captain Gullen of the Glendanon, and Captain Tobas of the Morsiko-Tavi.
“Gentlemen,” Nathan greeted, sounding confident and very much like his old self.
“Captain Scott?” Captain Gullen said, noticing not only the lack of beard, but also the more youthful appearance.
“The one and only,” Nathan confirmed.
Captain Tobas said nothing.
“I… I am so glad that you made it back safely, Captain,” Captain Gullen said, remembering that he was the only other captain in the fleet who knew the truth about what had happened on Corinair a day ago.
“I trust your daughter made it back to you safely, Captain?” Nathan inquired.
“Yes,” Captain Gullen said with a joyful laugh. “Yes, she is here with me now,” he added, gesturing for her to come to his side. A moment later, Sori came alongside her father, followed by Deliza Ta’Akar. “I don’t know how I can ever repay you all.”
“Nor I,” Sori said.
“Is everyone all right?” Deliza asked.
“Everyone is fine. The crew of the Seiiki is unharmed. They are here, on the Aurora, with me.”
“That is good to hear, Captain,” Deliza replied. “I’m sure Lael will be overjoyed. And you? Are you…?”
“I am fine, Deliza. We will speak further, soon. Requesting permission to dock with the Glendanon, Captain.”