A nurse came over and injected something into her IV line. She moaned briefly and then relaxed, letting go into blissful, drug-induced unconsciousness, and settled down. She seemed helpless and innocent, and that just made me want to find these people more. This whole mission had been a crash and burn so far.
Wait a minute... Crash and Burn! That was it! That was the answer. The ship’s black box was an untouchable back-up data recorder in case of a disaster in space. No one could access it without being present at the physical location and with Command Level authentication. The only problem was, there was a time limit on the data. If I didn’t hurry, the evidence would be gone with the wind.
I felt a brief surge of adrenaline as I made my first possible breakthrough. Up and out of my chair I began pacing back and forth, working over the red tape that had to be surmounted before I could even get close to accessing this thing. There was no UEA policy and procedure for this. This was trailblazing into new realms of paperwork and bureaucracy, which immediately cooled my enthusiasm.
I fucking despised paperwork.
Still, it was a lead, and a solid one. I asked the doctor if I could use his office and he hesitantly obliged, not used to so many strangers taking seat over his realm of influence and control. I didn’t have the heart to tell him it was only going to get worse.
I waited impatiently as the terminal in the doctor’s office established a secure channel. Within minutes Admiral McHenry appeared on the screen.
“McHenry, yes. Stevens, do you have something to report? he asked efficiently.
“I have a possible lead on obtaining the missing file evidence, but we are time-critical and it’s going to be bureaucratically tricky,” I said and watched the Admiral tense up some.
“Tricky? How?” he replied quickly.
“It’s best if we talk in person, sir, I don’t want to sound too paranoid, but just in case. Also, time is of the essence, so if we are going to do this, it’s going to entail rattling some chains and favors in command on both our ends.”
“Alright, I am on my way. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. McHenry, out.” The screen went blank.
The Admiral arrived in five minutes, not fifteen, which did nothing to camouflage his enthusiasm for a break in the investigation into the attack. The doctor, upon seeing him come in, looked down mournfully, rose from his chair, and offered it with a, No I insist, before retreating.
I went over the plan. Get authorization, pull the black box, keep Ship’s Command in the dark, and then pull a rabbit out of my ass. It was complicated but doable, but the Admiral looked grave.
“This is going to make a lot of waves in Command. That system is supposed to be off-limits except after a disaster. It may not even be designed to be accessed without shutting down the central core. It’s a good idea, but if this fails what other plans do you have?” he asked.
“Sir, without this, their tracks are covered. Barring parking the ship back at Command and setting a forensics investigator on the system, there’s nothing else I can do.”
“And then, if there is an opposition, they win anyway by delaying the mission,” the Admiral said, completing my thought.
“Exactly. The only place that data lives is on the black box now, and only if we get to it in time,” I said, pushing the point home.
“Very well Commander. If you will excuse me, I have some calls to make,” he said, and rose from his seat. “I’ll update you first thing tomorrow morning."
“Aye, aye Sir. If we can get our hands on this data, it could be the key to a lot more than the assault on the Ambassador.”
“Let’s just hope our alliance can handle it,” he replied, and walked out.
Snow twitched some as I sat down. I thought I saw her eyes open, but then she went right back down. I had been through similar with my father before he died, but at least here the machines were on silent. There was no rhythmic slow beeping that punctuated every second like it was an hour. There was no mechanical respirator constantly driving the point home, only her labored, barely audible breathing and the gentle murmurs of the ship.
It had been years since I had thought of that. I was just out of basic and was about to go on my first space side assignment when I got word. It earned me a hardship leave, and over the next three weeks I watched the cancer claim him. He had waited till he was terminal to tell me. It was a decision he made that brought constant regret from my end. We could have had so much more time together.
I put away the old memory. That kind of thinking was counterproductive, and I needed to be sharp for what was coming. I checked over the rifle, made sure it was in good repair, and then did the same with my pistol. Satisfied, I got comfortable and settled in for the long haul.
It was 2300 hours when I received a secured message from the Admiral. It read simply:
Plan is pending. Looks like a go. Will brief in the morning.
I nodded to no one in particular and decided it was time for a fitful night of sleep.
Chapter 13
“Commander. Lieutenant Commander Stevens. Sir, wake up.” A disembodied voice spoke to me. Blearily, I opened my eyes, to see the night nurse.
“Yes?” I looked around, made sure everything was stable, then checked my rifle.
“It’s 0630 sir. You asked to be woken up at this time,” she said.
“How long have I been out?” I asked, and tried to work the kinks out of my back from the lowest bidder torture device they called a chair.
“About two hours. You’ve been waking up every time someone happens to walk by.”
“Gotta stay alert, ya know,” I said, smiling. She was cute after all. As they say, you can’t catch anything if you don’t cast the line.
“Alright, but sir? If you will excuse me. I need to attend to my duties,” she said. Damn, all business, I had no chance.
“Very well, as you were Lieutenant.” She shot me a quick smile, and left.
The Admiral arrived about fifteen minutes early; we took up our now-familiar place in the doctor’s office and started to discuss the plan.
“I just got off the line with Admiral Chopra. Command has transmitted instructions for accessing the black box, but it’s going to be tricky,” he said.
“Tricky I can handle. What’s the plan?”
“The black box is at the base of a reinforced engineering tunnel in the center of the ship. You can only access it through a series of specific maintenance tunnels. This one, Alpha-8, has no camera. You will enter there, use a daily code that will be transmitted to us when you are go, and make your way to the box. Once there you will connect to the box with a maintenance data pad and retrieve the log,” he said, making it sound easy.
“What’s the catch?” I asked. There was always a catch.
“The catch is, this has never been tried with a ship that’s not in a maintenance dock. It could corrupt the data, or could cause a temporary glitch in the ship’s systems, which could lead to detection.”
“Lovely. So if there is a wider conspiracy, that could tip our hand and comprise our entire investigation,” I said.
“Exactly.”
“Well, you know what they say: Join the UEA, explore space, get shot by your co-workers. You know, standard stuff,” I said, trying to lighten the mood.
“You know, you can be a real smart ass, Commander. I like that,” the Admiral noted, chuckling.
“So when do we want to do this?”
“We’re still waiting on the final authorization, but you will get the go soon. Command is as eager to resolve this as you are. If you can provide us with definitive proof the Roam is comprised, it may lead us up the chain.”
“Understood sir,” I said, as the Admiral and I rose from our seats.
“I’ll take point for now, son; you try and get some rest, and read up on the information being transmitted to your quarters. You are going to need to be sharp and on point as soon as this is a go.”
“Aye, aye sir. I will get right to it.” I saluted and
left. It was going to be a long day.
Chapter 14
// NEURAL ACTIVITY DETECTED, RESUMING LOG//
//S. DAWKINS//
White-hot stabs of pain and a too-bright light above me. My world came back into focus to reveal the light of the med bay assaulting me with its luminescent ferocity. Wincing in pain, I shut my eyes to the offending light and tried to focus on anything but the throbbing constant pain I felt.
As I drifted, the quiet sounds of the ship welcomed me, only to be interrupted by a piece of conversation that I suddenly heard float by.
"We don't have any leads on who did this, Doctor. How bad is the damage? Will she recover?" This man's voice was new and stern but almost detached. Someone I had not met before.
"She was pretty touch-and-go there for a while. The damage was severe. Both forelegs are broken, multiple broken ribs, a skull fracture, and a bad concussion. Not to mention internal bleeding and massive contusions all over her body. Somebody beat the hell out of her. She's lucky to be alive." As I listened to the doctor make his report, all I could wonder was why anyone would do this.
"Why aren't her nanites repairing the damage?" the stern voice asked again, demanding answers.
“Major, her micro machinery is the only reason she is alive right now. The damage she suffered is extensive and serious. The good news is they are rebuilding and I expect her to be up for duty in about a week’s time. The morphic biotechnology is doing an amazing job of repairing her systems,” the doctor replied.
“Good to know. Why can't you do more to repair the damage?”
“Our systems are designed for humans, the physiology is too different, and I am no expert on hare physiology. I could easily kill her. The best thing to do is let her own systems repair as much of the damage as possible and take it from there.” The doctor looked over at me. I tried to lift my right forepaw but was rewarded with a jolt of pain that made me let out a small squeal.
“If you will excuse me, I think she's awake. I need to attend to my patient,” the doctor said.
"You keep me apprised of her condition." I heard the stomp of his boots as he left med bay. Suddenly a twinge of pain hit and I squealed even louder. My body was on fire. I tried to call out but I couldn't feel my voice collar. Mercifully I heard the doctor come close.
"Easy Missy, you've had quite a go of it, don't try and talk. Your voice collar was smashed in your attack. We’re building you a new one but it's going to take time. Your condition is stable, and I’m monitoring you closely. Right now, we need you to rest.”
There was a coolness spreading near what must have been an IV port on my left foreleg and then suddenly the pain was gone and nothing mattered. I was floating, and mercifully felt myself slipping back into unconsciousness.
Awareness came again and with it the wonderful sensation of someone stroking my fur, ears to tail. The touch was gentle; light and very soothing. Everything in my world was hazy but serene. I tried to move and suddenly sneezed. As my nose cleared, it was assaulted with the familiar but choking scent of cologne again. It could only have been Charlie.
“Hey there, just rest,” he told me, noticing that I was awake. “Don't worry, you're safe, and I’m watching to make sure whoever did this doesn’t come back.” His tone was kind and strong. I felt so safe as he stroked my fur gently, and then I felt the gentle unconsciousness begin to seize me again. Surrendering again to euphoria, my world faded to peaceful blackness.
Chapter 15
I spent the next week recuperating in sick bay, gradually taking on more and trying to aid in the discovery of who attacked me. Charlie was my near constant companion, always with a pistol at his side. The processing box for my voice collar was destroyed in my attack, so I was reduced to ‘left paw for yes, right paw for no’, much to the vexation of Major Randall Newman, the head of ship security who was investigating my attack.
We were trying everything to get to the bottom of what had happened but progress was slow. The evidence was spotty – a nightstick with no prints was found in my quarters but other than that, the perpetrators vanished into the ether. I was busy going through a roster of ship personnel when the Major entered.
“Captain Dawkins, have you managed to recognize anyone?” I looked up at him with a frustrated glance and raised my right paw, huffing slightly.
“Just how long till you get that pattern for the builder stations to get her collar up and running?” Charlie asked. He seemed to be as frustrated as I was.
“We are trying, Lieutenant Commander,” he almost snarled it out, reminding Charlie of his lesser rank. “You have to remember that up until yesterday the pattern for her voice processor didn't exist in the military database. There's a reason they aren't in the service, Commander. It's just so much more complicated when you have to deal with multiple genetic phenotypes.” The Major had been irritated since I met him and I couldn't tell if it was because of the attack or that he didn't like me.
“Major, with all due respect this isn't a time for a political discussion. An attempt on an ambassador's life was made on the fleet flagship. The one place she should be safest,” Charlie replied, with just the slightest tone of disdain in his voice.
“I understand that, Lieutenant Commander, and need I remind you of your rank? You are addressing a superior officer. When I want your analysis I will ask for it. Do you get me?” the Major snapped.
“Do you realize you are talking to the Chief-Aide of an Ambassador in the diplomatic core? I don’t need a UEA Marine telling me who’s superior. Trust me, I know,” Charlie replied with a tone of menace to his voice.
“Let me know if she recognizes anyone, Commander.” With that, he turned and left in a huff.
I was finally released to my quarters later that afternoon, with the news that my collar had been repaired. My right forepaw was still a little tender but I was feeling relatively fit and healthy after everything the last week had brought. Upon entering my quarters, the security detail remained at the door as Charlie went in with me. I was surprised to see the Major sitting in the chair near my bed, holding my purple collar in his gloved hands.
He saw me standing there and thrust out his hand near what was eye level for me, I hopped up, took the collar and then froze.
Unbidden images of the beating flashed through mind like a storm. With each blow from the cruel sticks came a flash of memory, of the pain and confusion, of the need to get away.
“Ambassador! If you don’t mind, I have much to do today. Can we get on with this?” The Major savagely snapped me back to reality and I realized I was standing before him, holding my new collar in my outstretched paw. I took a few more panicked breaths then fastened it around my neck.
“Now that you can speak again, perhaps you are ready to answer some questions? It's very important that we get your story. Commander Stevens, would you be so good as to wait outside?”
Charlie saluted the Major and left, as I started to acclimate to my new collar.
“So, in your own words, what transpired on the night of your attack? Start at the beginning,” the Major ordered.
My memory was fuzzy and unsure, providing halting but terrifying images of that night. All too often I felt the icy grip of panic claw at my consciousness, weakening my resolve. I tried to detach myself from it, find something to focus on, when I noticed that he used a pen and paper. Old tech like that was an anachronism on this new fleet ship.
“Are you absolutely certain that there is nothing you can remember about your attackers that could identify them? Maybe their height or tone of voice?” He tapped his hand on the chair, impatiently waiting for my reply.
“It was late, and I was just woken up from a deep sleep. The only thing I remember solidly is the masks and the smile on the face of one of the men before they beat me.” I shivered a bit recollecting fragmented pieces of that night.
“Interesting. So whoever did this, it was personal for them. Such a pity you don't remember anything else.” I watched as his face brok
e into a curious smile that I had not seen previously. He continued. “Rest assured though, I will continue investigating. They had to leave a trail somewhere.” Though his words were reassuring I saw his shoulders sag. I immediately felt as if I had destroyed any hopes of finding the men who attacked me.
As he left I sat staring out the window of my quarters into the dark abyss of space. The universe spread out before me with its infinite sea of stars. There were no answers out there. The calm and beautiful scene provided a perfect contrast for the tempest that raged in my own soul. Frustrated and feeling suddenly exhausted, I burrowed up under my blankets and let unconsciousness and despair claim me.
Dreaming in tones common to the most hellish nightmares, I relived my attack again and again, but I would not wake, experiencing in fever-dream fashion the breaking of my bones and the beating of my body. The figures grinned down at me through their masks, their faces morphing like demons. Terror gripped my heart, I could feel it beating fast. I was running now, but at every turn, there they were. There was no way out, the sick closed-in feeling surrounded me again, restraining me like a straight jacket. No escape, there was no escape.
Demons of my own rage appeared. The voice of the Admiral in my mind, speaking from the briefing room. The strained relations, the fears of war. I could damn them all, I could turn and walk away. Without lifting my forepaw there was a chance I could send the entire UEA flaming into the dust bin of history, torn apart by their own paranoia and fear.
Watching the world burn felt so soothing, so comforting, in that moment. My hatred burned bright and provided an icy solace to my bruised and battered soul. The scene shifted abruptly and I was facing myself, my human self on the bridge of my last post as an astrogator so many years ago.
I could see from my post The Hope adrift as her engines sparked and cracked. She was dead in the water. The distress call came on over the intercom on the bridge, but the voice I heard, it was no ghost from the past but the Admiral.
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