The Crucible: Leap of Faith

Home > Science > The Crucible: Leap of Faith > Page 3
The Crucible: Leap of Faith Page 3

by Odette C. Bell


  She was, however, terrified because he was wrong.

  Her crew hadn’t done this.

  She looked down at the remains of Ensign Weatherby once more.

  Her crew hadn’t done this.

  So who or what had?

  …

  Ensign Jenks

  I’d found an empty alleyway in the lower quarters of the trade district.

  I was shaking now.

  Shaking so badly that everything was shaking with me.

  I wasn’t crazy. It was really happening.

  There were a few discarded mag crates to my side, and as my body trembled, they shifted and shook on the floor.

  I pressed a sweaty hand into the wall and tried to stabilize myself. Closing my eyes hard and clenching my jaw, I tried and tried and tried to control my breath.

  I’d found an Omega weapon. And I’d isolated the compound. Now I just had to calm down long enough to use it.

  At my feet was an old military grade medi-pack. Inside was an isolation needle. A small device that sat in the palm of your hand, you filled the vial at the back with whatever substance you wanted and rotated it to activate it. An electro-needle would shoot from the tip. About an inch long, it could deliver its payload to any part of the body instantly. Its diameter was microscopic, leaving barely a pin prick incision in the skin.

  I clenched my teeth harder and harder until it felt as if I’d grind them into dust. Rocking back and forth on my feet, my sweaty fingertips leaving streaks along the wall, I waited for the seizure to pass.

  The whole hallway started to shake now. The walls trembled under my touch, matching the tremors in my limbs.

  The abandoned crates to the left shook so badly they were like dice being rolled together.

  My mouth fell open and a whimper came out.

  “Come on,” I begged, “come on.”

  I just couldn’t medicate myself while still having a seizure. I could accidentally destroy the needle or rupture the vial, scattering the precious compound 78 onto this well-trodden floor. I simply wouldn’t have the strength to go and find more.

  So I had to wait.

  God, I had to wait.

  I fell to one knee, then the other, head dropping towards the floor, short hair cutting in front of my face and forming a fan in front of my sweaty brow.

  Then finally, finally, just as the whole hallway shook as if in the throes of an earthquake, it stopped.

  Relief.

  I fell to the side, shoulder banging into the floor, hair cascading over my shoulder.

  Closing my eyes, I swallowed, then groped towards the medi-pack.

  With fingers barely under my control, I opened it and grabbed the electro-needle within.

  I had to stop breathing in order to steady my hand. With every desperate breath, it would wobble backwards and forwards, and I couldn’t afford to have an unsteady aim.

  Closing my eyes briefly, I angled the needle towards my chest.

  I plunged it in.

  The electro-needle penetrated right through my flesh, delivering the payload directly to my heart.

  I held the needle until it beeped.

  Then dropped it and fell onto my back, one massive convulsion tearing through my body. My regulation boots skidded across the floor as my chest thrashed up and down.

  ….

  Then nothing.

  Stillness.

  Blessed stillness.

  Even the ringing in my mind stopped. The headache I’d endured since the last dose of 78 was swept away.

  Cherished silence filled me completely.

  I lay there on the floor for as long as I dared.

  This building’s sensors would have picked up the tremors in this corridor.

  I had to leave.

  Rolling onto my stomach, I forced myself to my knees. I planted a hand over my mouth, dragging down my lips and cheeks until my bottom eyelids puckered.

  With one last blink, I staggered to my feet. I swept a hand down and grabbed the medi-pack.

  I’d already disposed of the Omega gun.

  I stumbled until my muscles settled and my gait became even. Then I swept a hand over my brow, cleaning off the muck that had settled there. I ran her fingers through my short hair, and neatened my collar.

  I walked through the lower districts until I reached a transport lift. With the medi-pack still tucked under my arm, I took the elevator up to one of the observation paths that connected the various trade district buildings.

  I walked out into the open air, feeling the chill wind race across my skin.

  For the first time since I’d arrived, it was invigorating. Briefly closing my eyes, I pressed my lips together, and took a deep breath through my nostrils. I let the sweet cool air settle in my lungs before I opened my eyes and strode out across the promenade.

  I followed it around the sides of several tall towers. Though it was night, everything was well lit. Around the buildings I could see the lines of traveling traffic, here and there the undersides of hulls and wings glistening under the nightlights.

  There was a constant low hum to the air. Now I was functioning again, I could even feel the slight tremble pickup through my boots and up into my knees.

  Unlike the administrative district, there weren’t too many people walking the promenade at this hour. At any hour, in fact. People didn’t come here for the view – they came here to buy and sell. Most of the trade happened within the primary towers, not out here with a view which could distract from proceedings.

  I kept walking, aiming for one of the primary transport hubs. Sensing I was now alone, I angled towards the railing to my left. It gave a view of the sheer side of the building. If you pressed your hands into it and angled your head over the side, you could see right down through the lines of traffic to the street far, far below. At night it was a glistening sea of lights interspersed by the black bodies of towers.

  I had no interest in the view.

  I reached the railing, and while still walking casually tossed the medi-pack over the side of the building.

  It was small enough that no sensors would pick it up. It would bounce off the hover traffic until it shattered on the city streets far below.

  Smoothing my hair behind my ear, I walked away.

  …

  Lieutenant Commander Nathan Shepard

  “That’s a hell of a mission, Admiral,” I managed. I was standing in my quarters on my own ship. Though I’d been provided with a well-appointed room in the capital, I didn’t want it.

  I wanted my own bed. Though it was simple, it was all I needed.

  Despite the fact I was the Commander of the Godspeed, my quarters were ordinary. This wasn’t a luxury cruiser; it was a reconnaissance vessel.

  Still, there was enough room for a large circular bed, a workbench, a comms station, and a small bathroom.

  I also had a window. Along the side of the wall that connected my bed and workbench, it was the one luxury I’d requested. The one thing I couldn’t live without.

  I always wanted to know where I was going. More than that, I needed to know where I was.

  I’d been working before the Admiral had called. Trying to modify a weapon. Why?

  That was a good question.

  It was a simple task which helped calm my nerves.

  You would think rec leave would be enough to do that, but you’d be wrong. My short visit to the capital had done nothing but further ignite that slow burning sense of dread.

  Then the Admiral had called.

  Admiral Duval was half Baytiq and half human. It left her with a strange mix of features – three eyes, pencil like hair, and a thin-lipped mouth.

  It was sometimes hard to read her emotions, but never hard to understand her words.

  She was one of the most direct superiors I’d ever dealt with.

  “These are strange times,” she said, tone quiet. “It is hard to know who we can trust.”

  Even for a straight talker that comment threw me. I felt my b
row press hard into my eyes as my lips thinned into a frown. “What?”

  She held my gaze and shook her head. “Never mind, Lieutenant Commander. All we ask you is that you follow through with your mission. You must travel to the Hari Sector and track down the leader of the rebellion.”

  “A rebellion we aren’t even sure is going to happen,” I countered as I crossed my arms. I was wearing a loose fitting shirt and pants. I’d changed into them before realizing sleep would be elusive tonight. They felt distractingly light and free compared to the stiff collar of my Alliance Star Forces uniform.

  “We have enough information to suggest that a rebellion is imminent. We must track down those spreading discontent. At a time like this,” her voice became unusually quiet, “we cannot afford to be split asunder.”

  Her words left a chill spreading over my back.

  I had to ground my feet into the soft carpet of the floor not to shiver.

  My mouth was strangely dry. Clearing my throat, I took a breath. “This is going to be no easy task.”

  “That is why we are sending you.” She held my gaze directly. “With your exemplary record, we know that we can trust you.”

  I nodded. Not at first. The move came late. I don’t know why… it just did.

  “Good night, Lieutenant Commander. I suggest you enjoy your last night of leave – you will be leaving in the morning.”

  I swallowed and nodded. By the time I looked up, the Admiral’s transmission had ended.

  I stood there and stared at the comms panel with its softly blinking lights. Then I took a step back, opened my palms, and pressed them against my face. I took another step back and another until I felt the curve of my bed pressing into my knees.

  Crumpling, I let myself lie back on the bed, and dropped my hands from my face.

  Then I stared blankly at the ceiling.

  I was a good soldier. I’d grown up hearing that. From my father, from everyone. I was the kind of soldier who followed orders and never asked questions.

  I never asked questions. Even when they started to burn a hole through my gut.

  I hadn’t received my full orders yet. The Admiral wanted me to track down the leader of the rebellion first. When I found them, I would receive my next orders.

  Orders I may not agree with.

  The rebellion was just a myth, or that’s what an ordinary person would say. The Alliance had ushered in a new peace to a once tumultuous Milky Way. Why would anyone in their right mind jeopardize that?

  The rebels, if they existed, must be arrogant, dangerous fools intent on destroying the safety of others.

  So it was right to track them down and eradicate them.

  … Right?

  I balled a hand into a fist and struck it onto the bed clothes beside me. The move was weak.

  I was weak.

  Protecting the galaxy from scavengers and pirates I could understand. Turning against the Alliance’s own citizens… that was harder to accept.

  I suddenly pushed myself up, feeling nervous tension build in my body.

  I glanced towards the window. It showed the inside of the Argus Service Cluster fueling station. My ship was still in dry dock, after all.

  Suddenly the Admiral’s advice came back to me. Enjoy my last night of rec leave.

  Though I was bone tired, I still pulled on some casual clothes and walked from my room, hands stowed firmly in the pockets of my jacket.

  It didn’t take long to make it out of my ship and along one of the metal gangways that connected my vessel to the primary docking ring.

  With my hands still stowed in my pockets and my shoulders hunched, I kept to myself as I passed crew from various other ships.

  Without my uniform, I was just another civilian.

  Staring at my boots as I walked, listening to the slight echoing bounce of the metal gangway as I took every step, I tried to lull myself into a false sense of calm.

  By the time I reached the main civilian areas of the station, a glum frown had set hard around my lips.

  There was no way I was going to enjoy this last night off.

  Though I walked past several bars, and even saw a few of my own crew, I did not join them.

  Instead I headed to the main observation deck and then right past it. There was another small observation area tucked in behind it that few people used. Rather than show an unimpeded view of the planet below, it was directed out at space. Due to the light pollution of the station, you could barely see any stars.

  There wasn’t much to look at, and that was the point. Nobody would disturb me.

  I entered the secondary observation deck, hands still stowed in my pockets. Head still directed at my shoes, it took me a moment to realize I wasn’t alone.

  There was a woman sitting on the single small couch that was directed towards the circular window.

  Her hands were rested in her lap, her head angled down to stare at them.

  A prickle of recognition escaped down my spine as I realized who it was. From the short strawberry-blond hair to her morose disposition, it was Ensign Jenks.

  I hesitated, wondering whether I should just leave.

  She turned before I could.

  Her gaze flicked towards me. You couldn’t say she had pretty eyes. They were nothing compared to the stunning white-blue of Argoza’s pupils. But there was a certain quality about Ensign Jenks’ stare. It was the type of gaze I imagined a trapped tiger would give. Wary, guarded - someone who had not given up hope of escape.

  My lips twitched into a smile. “Sorry for disturbing you, Ensign,” I mumbled.

  “If you were looking for a place to sit,” she rose to her feet, took a step back, and indicated the small couch, “go ahead. I was just leaving.”

  She was not just leaving. It was clear she was only getting up because I had arrived.

  My hands were still in my pockets, and my fingers drummed against the side of my legs as I wondered how to handle this.

  There was clearly something going on with Ensign Jenks. But she’d only been a member of my crew for a few short days, and even then it was merely a technicality.

  She wasn’t my responsibility, in other words.

  That didn’t stop me from walking further into the room and planting myself beside the window. I shot her another encouraging close-lipped smile.

  She didn’t appear to know what to do with it. She took a step back, and it was obvious she was about to leave.

  “You don’t need to leave on my account, Ensign,” I said, authority pitching through my tone.

  The authority had its intended purpose, and she stopped, albeit for a fraction of a second. She tilted her head towards me, that angular hair sliding across her face to frame that trapped stare.

  I found myself swallowing. “You left the party early tonight.”

  “I wouldn’t have thought anyone would have noticed, sir.” She didn’t look at me as she spoke, preferring to let her gaze slip towards the door.

  “It wasn’t just thrown for my crew. The Fargo went through a hell of an incident. If you’re…” I trailed off. I wanted to tell her that if she’d suffered some kind of trauma from it, she could get help.

  But I stopped myself. Something told me that Ensign Jenks’ troubles extended further than recent events.

  She took another step back.

  My training told me I should just let her leave. My training didn’t always win out. Occasionally the man underneath would raise his little head and tell me to do the right thing, not the accepted thing. “I could use a little company, to be honest,” I lied.

  She looked confused. Fair enough. It wasn’t every day that a lieutenant commander imposed companionship upon an ensign he barely knew.

  Hopefully she wouldn’t get the wrong idea about this.

  … Or any idea, in fact – it looked as if she’d barely registered my words.

  As her gaze slipped from the window then back to the door, it was clear she was… running from something.

&nbs
p; Maybe it was just me and my odious company, or maybe Ensign Jenks needed to let something off her chest.

  “Where are you going to be stationed after the Fargo?” I asked, realizing the only legitimate way to keep her in the room was to pepper her with official questions, questions she would be obliged to answer as I was her superior officer.

  “I have a temporary posting on the Ra’xon. She’s coming into dock soon.” She never made eye contact when she spoke.

  “The Ra’xon, ha? That’s a flagship. What’s your specialty?”

  “I don’t have one. I’m on general rotation at the moment. I’m not staying on the Ra’xon – it will just take me to my next posting.”

  I nodded. Then I pushed my mind into the task of finding another question – any question to keep her in the room.

  “How long have you been in the Star Forces?”

  This time her gaze locked on the floor between us and seemed as if it would not lift, even if the window behind us shattered and shot us out into space. “A few years now.”

  Most enlisted recruits would be able to tell you how long they’d been in the Star Forces down to the day. It was drilled into them at every opportunity. How much time you sacrificed for the Alliance was your greatest honor. Or so they told us at the Academy.

  “Which Academy did you graduate from?”

  She took a snapped step backwards, her short hair swinging under her jaw until she finally tipped her head back and stared at me. “There’s no need to engage me in conversation, sir. If you wish for company, I suggest you head to one of the bars.” With that, she turned on her heel and walked out.

  No salute, no goodbye, she just stalked away from me.

  I spluttered. I could have pulled her up – could have told her to stop where she was and treat me like an officer.

  I didn’t. I watched her go.

  I got the sudden urge to follow her.

  I didn’t follow through with it. That would be stalking, and I really doubted that when the Admiral had told me to enjoy my last night, she’d envisaged I’d spend it skulking around after some random ensign.

  Instead I let out a rattling sigh, pressing a hand up and over my face until my fingers raked across my short hair.

  Turning, I sat down roughly on the low couch.

  I placed my hands on my knees, crumpled my shoulders, and finally I raised my head and stared at the view.

 

‹ Prev