by Ryk Brown
Nathan stopped. “Okay, I wasn’t thinking that, really. I was just going on instinct.”
“That’s what I thought,” Cameron said, continuing on. “Same old Nathan,” she added, shaking her head.
“Isn’t that what you wanted?” Nathan asked, taking a couple of quick steps to catch up with her. “To be sure that I’m still me?”
“I was hoping for evidence that was a little less risky, to be honest.”
“Well, that wouldn’t be me, then would it,” Nathan quipped as they turned the corner and headed for the bridge.
“What are they, about twelve?” Cameron retorted.
“Captain on the bridge!” the guard at the entrance announced as they passed.
“Status?” Cameron asked her tactical officer, pausing just inside the entrance for his response.
“Threat board is clear, long-range patrols have searched the inbound paths and found nothing,” Lieutenant Commander Vidmar reported. “All returning gunships are secure on our decks, Bulldog One is safely aboard the Glendanon, and the Morsiko-Tavi has rejoined the fleet.”
“Very well,” Cameron replied. “Recall all patrols. Comms, notify all ships that we’ll be relocating the fleet as soon as those patrols are back on board.”
“Aye, sir,” the comms officer acknowledged.
“Lieutenant Commander Kono, leave four recon drones behind, spread wide,” Cameron continued. “Set them to meet up with us twelve hours after we jump, each one via an alternate path.”
“Yes, sir,” the lieutenant commander replied smartly.
“Alert me when the fleet is ready to jump,” Cameron ended, turning to head aft toward her ready room.
“Aye, sir,” the tactical officer replied.
“Recon drones?” Nathan asked, following Cameron.
“To see if anyone is tailing us.”
“Why four of them?”
Cameron entered her ready room and moved to hang up her jacket on the hook behind the hatch. “I like to spread them out, hide them. If our tail tries to take them out, at least one of them should make it out to warn us.”
“Are you saying we have a tail?” Nathan wondered as he moved around to sit behind the captain’s desk.
Cameron finished hanging up her jacket, closing the hatch and turning around, just as he was about to sit. Her eyebrows immediately went up.
“Oh, sorry,” Nathan said sheepishly. “Old habit,” he added, stepping back out from behind her desk and taking a seat on the couch along the forward bulkhead.
“Not yet,” Cameron admitted, moving around in front of Nathan to take her seat behind her desk. “But if we pick one up, we’re sure as hell going to know about it.”
“Good thinking.” Nathan leaned back, his body finally relaxing for the first time in days. “God it feels good to sit in something comfortable again.” He ran his hand across the cushions. “This isn’t the same couch, is it?”
“Actually, it is,” Cameron said. “I had it reupholstered.”
“Why didn’t you just get a new one?” Nathan wondered.
“I found out it was from Captain Roberts’ home office,” Cameron explained. “He brought it aboard when he first took command. I offered to return it to his family, but his wife thought it would be nice if it stayed aboard…like a piece of him was still with the ship.”
“I didn’t realize you were so sentimental,” Nathan teased.
“It’s not sentiment, it’s respect,” Cameron insisted. “And you still haven’t answered the question.”
“What was the question?”
“What were you thinking, trusting a bunch of kids like that, let alone a bunch of kids you don’t even know.”
Nathan smiled. He had forgotten how much he enjoyed getting Cameron worked up about something. “Oh, that question.”
“Oh, that question,” she mocked. “Did you even stop to consider why they offered to join you? Didn’t it raise any suspicions at the time?”
“At the time, no. After the fact, I did give it some thought, however,” Nathan defended. “I know it sounds a bit conceited, but I think Ensign Walsh offered to help because it was me. Nathan Scott, the boy-captain who saved Earth and the core from the Jung. He saw his hero, who he thought was long dead, and felt compelled to follow him.” Nathan looked at Cameron. “Pretty stupid, huh.”
“Actually, you’re probably right,” Cameron agreed somewhat reluctantly.
“That’s why they woke me up, right?” Nathan joked.
“That’s not the only reason Jessica and Telles sought you out after all these years,” Cameron insisted.
“You don’t need to go there, Cam,” Nathan assured her. “I’ve had a lot of time to think about it…trust me.”
“And what did you conclude?”
Nathan looked at her skeptically. “Are you trying to psychoanalyze me?”
“Not intentionally,” Cameron replied. “But there is a reason I’m asking.”
“What’s that?”
“You first,” Cameron insisted.
Nathan sighed in contemplation. “It wasn’t just one reason,” he began. “Yes, they felt they needed me to lead the rebellion, probably more because of my reputation than my leadership abilities.”
“Don’t sell yourself short.”
“I’m not done,” Nathan insisted. “But they probably sought me out because they realized that if they didn’t try to revive my consciousness now, they might not have gotten another chance.” Nathan looked at Cameron. “They sought me out to save me.” Nathan sighed again. “And now it’s up to me to save them. To save everyone.”
Both Nathan and Cameron were silent for what seemed an eternity. Finally, after yet another sigh, Nathan spoke again. “Fate has called upon me, yet again.”
After another silent pause, Cameron spoke, as well. “Are you up to the task, Nathan?”
“Honestly?”
“Yes, honestly.”
Nathan smiled. “I have no idea. Then again, I had no idea the last time fate called upon me.”
“Actually, if I remember correctly, you most decidedly did not feel up to the task back then,” Cameron pointed out.
“The thing is, I don’t think I have a choice,” Nathan told her.
“You always have a choice, Nathan.”
“No, I don’t,” Nathan argued. “I mean, yes, I could say ‘screw this, I’m out of here.’ I could take the Seiiki and jump to the other side of the Galaxy, where I could live out my life and be long dead by the time the Dusahn, or whoever else wanted to rule the galaxy, caught up with me. But because of who I am, I cannot make that choice. I can only make one choice.”
Cameron thought for a moment. “For evil to triumph, good men must do nothing,” she finally said.
Nathan smiled. “Actually the quote is: ‘The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.’”
“Just checking your memory,” Cameron said, the slightest of smiles teasing at the corner of her mouth.
“It’s one of my favorites,” Nathan admitted. “Timeless. Absolutely timeless. So you see, I really have no choice. Just like I had no choice when Captain Roberts died, and just like I had no choice that day in orbit over Nor-Patri.”
“Because, deep down, you’re a good man.”
Nathan looked surprised. “Is that a compliment? From Cameron Taylor?” Nathan threw up his hands. “Now I’ve heard everything.”
“I’m being serious, Nathan,” Cameron said. “Deadly serious.”
“Sorry.”
“I’ve been doing some thinking, as well.”
“Is it my turn to psychoanalyze you now?” Nathan joked.
Cameron ignored his quip. “I’ve been thinking about why I made the decision to give up everything, steal my own ship, and come here to join you.”
“Temporary insanity?”
“Nathan…”
“Sorry, I’m tired. It’s been a long week,” Nathan apologized.
“I once asked
Telles why he followed you, of all people. You act on instinct, without thinking things through, and you get by on luck…often unbelievable luck at that. Hardly the type of person who someone as logical and intelligent as Lucius Telles should follow.”
“And what did he say?” Nathan wondered.
“That it was because of those qualities that he followed you,” Cameron explained. “You see, anyone can learn how to make decisions, how to lead people into harm’s way. But few are born with that skill. Fewer still are able to listen to others, and learn from their mistakes.”
“And few have my incredible luck,” Nathan joked.
“Very few,” Cameron mused, sighing. “I came when you called because, despite the fact that I question nearly every decision you make, I know you will always do what you think is best for everyone, with no concern for your own well-being. You see, it’s your ability to put your own doubts aside and make incredibly difficult decisions…decisions that affect billions, if not trillions, of lives, that makes you a great leader. Honestly, Nathan, I don’t know if I could deal with that much responsibility.”
Nathan was quiet, feeling the weight of her statement. “Is this supposed to make me feel better?” he asked, “because it’s not working.”
Cameron looked up, taking a deep breath. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this.”
Nathan looked puzzled again. “Say what?”
Cameron looked him in the eyes. “I think you should take command of the Aurora.”
Nathan’s jaw dropped. “Cam… I can’t…”
“You have to,” she insisted.
“Cam, the Aurora is your ship,” Nathan exclaimed. “Hell, she’s been your ship for way longer than she was mine. I can’t take her away from you. You can’t ask me to do that.”
“I have to,” Cameron replied. “It’s the only way this rebellion can succeed.”
“I can lead from the Seiiki,” Nathan argued.
“No, you can’t.” Cameron shifted uneasily in her seat. “God, I can’t believe I’m saying this, either. Na-Tan can’t lead from the bridge of the Seiiki. He must be on the bridge of the Aurora.”
Nathan grinned from ear to ear. “Did you just call me Na-Tan?”
“Trust me, I nearly gagged,” Cameron replied.
“Cam, it wouldn’t be right…”
“Nathan, you did amazing things with this ship,” Cameron explained.
“And so can you,” Nathan insisted.
“Perhaps, but in most cases I’d simply be mimicking you,” she admitted. “I can’t think on my feet as well as you can. I can’t make snap decisions like you. Sure, if it’s clearly outlined in procedures, I can, but…”
“Now you’re selling yourself short, Cam…”
“Perhaps, but that’s not the point. If I thought I could do better, I would have taken the fight to the Dusahn on my own, without hooking up with you, Jess, and Telles.” Cameron’s expression turned dead serious. “The Pentaurus sector needs Nathan Scott. They need Na-Tan. The entire galaxy needs Na-Tan.”
“Then the entire galaxy is in more trouble than we thought.”
“Do you always have to make jokes, Nathan?” Cameron said, becoming irritated.
“Sorry, it’s the fatigue.”
“I’m offering you my ship, Nathan. You have to take her. You have to use her to defeat the Dusahn…and Galiardi, and the Jung.”
Nathan suddenly became quiet. Until now, he had assumed that he had only one enemy…the Dusahn. But he knew that she was right. The Dusahn were only part of the problem. In fact, Galiardi and the Jung were also only part of the problem.
After nearly a minute of silence, Cameron became impatient. “Well?”
Nathan looked at her, sighing as the full weight of his fate landed squarely on his shoulders. “On one condition,” he finally said. “You have to be my XO.”
* * *
Despite the rapid technological advances over the last hundred years, prisons on Earth were still relatively unchanged. Security systems had changed, tracking chips were used, and surveillance gear was everywhere, but the idea of punishing those guilty of crimes by confining them to small spaces and stripping them of their rights and freedoms was still the norm.
“What have you done to her?” Krispin asked as he stared at the women he loved on the view screen.
“She is sedated, like all the other inmates,” the old man told him.
“Why?”
“It makes them more…manageable.”
“Is that what they call it?” Krispin wondered. “How difficult could she be to manage? She weighs barely forty-five kilograms.”
“Tell that to the guard she put in the hospital the first week she was here.”
Krispin looked back at the view screen. “Did anyone ask why she did that?”
“I do not know,” the old man replied.
“I want to talk to her,” Krispin insisted.
“I cannot promise she will recognize you.”
“I want to talk to her,” he repeated.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
Krispin turned to look at the old man. “Are you my handler?”
“Handler?” the old man asked, unfamiliar with the term.
“The man I will be reporting to. The man from whom I will receive instructions.”
“I suppose so.”
“What’s your name?”
The old man thought for a moment. “You can call me Mister Dakota.”
“Very well, Mister Dakota. If you want me to do your bidding, I need to talk to Sara. But first, someone needs to give her something to bring her out of her drug-induced stupor, understood?”
“You are in no position to make demands, Sergeant,” Mister Dakota reminded him.
“Do you really think these restraints will stop me from bashing in your skull before the guards can press their remote to immobilize me?”
“Are you threatening me, Sergeant?”
“Just asking a question.” Krispin followed his statement with a gaze possessed only by those who had killed with their bare hands, and had felt no remorse.
“What makes you think I don’t have a similar remote in my pocket?” Mister Dakota asked without emotion.
“Trust must be earned,” Krispin told him. “This is your chance to do so.”
“It may take some time,” Mister Dakota warned.
“Time is all I have,” the sergeant replied, turning back to the view screen.
* * *
Aiden looked around the dormitory he and his crew had been escorted to after they had been cleared by medical. “Could be worse,” he commented. “When do we eat?” he asked the guard.
“The mess hall has been notified,” the guard replied. “Food should be arriving shortly.”
“Lots of it, I hope,” Charnelle said, plopping down on one of the chairs at the table in the middle of the room.
“The head is over there, and the entertainment system has access to the ship’s vid library,” the guard explained.
“How long are we going to be locked up in here?” Kenji wondered.
“Until Lieutenant Commander Shinoda clears you,” the guard answered. “That’s all I know.” He looked at Aiden. “Will there be anything else, sir?”
“A change of clothes would be nice,” Aiden said.
“I’ll see what I can do,” the guard promised. He turned to leave, then paused, turning back. “Rumor has it that you people saved Captain Scott. If that is the case, then I’d like to thank you, on behalf of the crew of the Aurora.”
“Don’t mention it,” Aiden replied.
“I just thought you should know.”
“Thanks.”
Once the guard had left, Kenji spoke up. “Are you happy now?” he asked Aiden. “Is this what you imagined when you volunteered us all?”
“What did you expect them to do?” Aiden wondered. “Trust us implicitly from the start?”
“He’s right, Kenji,” Charnelle said. “They’re just f
ollowing security protocols. Anyone offering to assist Alliance forces must be treated with suspicion until they can be proven to be trustworthy.”
“We are Alliance forces,” Kenji pointed out.
“But they are not,” Sari countered. “Not anymore.”
“Come on, Kenji,” Aiden said. “They’re treating us just fine. Besides, you heard the guard. Once we’re cleared by the lieutenant commander, we’ll be free to move about the ship. We’ll probably be assigned quarters and everything.”
“And then what?” Kenji wondered. “Fly missions against these ‘Dusahn’? Are you even sure this is our fight?”
“I’m sure Captain Scott will explain it all to us, sooner or later,” Charnelle defended. “We just have to be patient.”
“Why didn’t you say something before?” Aiden asked Kenji. “You’ve had three days.”
“We had a Ghatazhak breathing down our necks the whole time,” Kenji reminded him. “He would have heard.”
“What makes you think they’re not listening to us right now?” Sari pointed out.
“To be honest, I don’t really care anymore!” Kenji exclaimed. “This was a stupid idea, coming here. Really stupid.”
“That’s an understatement,” Chief Benetti agreed from her bunk.
“I’m sure if you tell them you don’t want to be a part of all this, that they’ll be happy to put you off on some inhabited world somewhere,” Charnelle said.
“A thousand light years from home,” Kenji exclaimed. “Lovely. I’m sure that’s just what everyone here wants…to be stranded on some world they didn’t even know existed three days ago.”
“They’re not going to leave you stranded,” Aiden insisted. “They’ll find a way to get you home, if that’s really what you all want.”
“I’m fine right here,” Ledge insisted.
“Me, too,” Ali agreed. “After all, we’re on the Aurora, and we’re going to be serving under Nathan Scott! No one is going to believe this back home.”
“If we ever make it back home,” Kenji reminded them. “There is a war on out here, remember?”
“And there’s probably going to be a war back home, as well,” Aiden replied.
“Which is precisely why we should be there, instead of here. We all took an oath, remember?”
“That oath was to protect members of the Alliance,” Aiden told him. “Both there and here. Isn’t that what we’re doing?”