Icarus
Page 22
“On the contrary, it was very much something. Your quick thinking saved my life. I have a good mind to put in a word to Captain Krif about a commendation for you.”
“Oh, please…no. I don’t need a reward for doing my job. After all, Krif did say that your protection was my number-one priority.”
“So…what you did…you did purely out of duty?”
Shawn pursed his lips as the smell of her jasmine perfume wafted across his nose. “Well, not purely out of duty.”
She looked as if she were trying to telepathically say something that her mouth and lungs wouldn’t cooperate to expel. He reached out a hand and lightly stroked her white cheek.
Melissa closed her eyes, truly reveling in the touch of a man for what was probably the first time in her life. “Damn you, Shawn Kestrel,” she whispered through lightly closed eyes. “I’m no good at people dynamics.”
“Me neither,” he said softly, then leaned in and gently kissed her lips. He pulled back after a moment and she placed a shaky palm against his cheek.
“Things are going to get…complicated…if we keep this up.” She still wasn’t looking into his eyes.
“I don’t mind complicated.”
“But…I do. I mean…I’m used to an ordered life, one that’s structured. You’ve been…well, let’s just say this whole situation has thrown that life into some pretty major turmoil.”
He nodded in understanding. He felt the same way. It seemed that every time he began to feel close to Melissa, the image of his wife would flash before his eyes. He couldn’t deny he had feelings for the beautiful woman seated before him, or that he wanted to explore them; he just wasn’t sure how. “We’ll make it through this.”
“I hope so.”
“I know so,” he said, smiling. She looked at him, returning the gesture uneasily. “Maybe then you’ll be able to tell me what you were trying to say back on the Icarus before you passed out?”
She raised an eyebrow, her tone full of jest. “Oh, was I going to say something? I guess in my state, I wasn’t at all in my right mind.”
Shawn shook his head and chuckled. “Uh-huh. Sure.”
“Well,” she said in a voice that indicated a change of subject, “let’s begin by talking a look at Captain Taggart’s personal log, shall we?” She removed her hand from his face but kept her eyes leveled into his. “We’ll…take the rest from there…very slowly…okay?”
He looked at her shimmering auburn hair, down her lightly freckled forehead, and into to her stunningly green eyes. They were like perfect emeralds set in pools of milk, and they expected a perfect answer. He only hoped he had one. “I think I’d like that.”
She rewarded his words with a smile, then reached for the holovid recorder and plugged it into the Mark-IV’s main computer. Shawn, doing his own part, entered in the commands to the console. By leaving Krif out of this meeting, they were both subverting the normal chain of command. Even though Melissa was in operational command of the mission, she knew she could very well get into a lot of trouble from the OSI Director for what she and Shawn were doing. Shawn knew it as well, and he also knew he would stand by her one hundred percent—even if it took them all the way to a joint court-martial.
When all was said and done, they didn’t need to speak the one undeniable truth they both held close to their hearts: Admiral William Graves was worth it.
Satisfied that they both understood the possible ramifications, they leaned back in their respective chairs as an image of Captain Kralis Taggart appeared before them on the small monitor screen and began to speak.
*
“Commanding Officer’s mission log, day twenty-three, 0930 hours. We’ve finally linked up with the Valley Forge this morning. We’ve been ordered by Admiral Grayson to set a course for Corvan. The Icarus and the destroyer Titan will be flanking the carrier the whole way. I have to admit, I’m a little nervous about this mission. Cruising that close to Kafaran space has me on edge. The crew is performing well, and I hope that this will be a mission we can complete in short order. I still don’t know what we’re doing out here, but Admiral Grayson says he’ll bring us into the loop soon, whatever that means.”
…
“Commanding Officer’s mission log, day forty, 1516 hours. We would have made it to Corvan in just under a solar day, but we received new orders from Admiral Grayson two hours ago. We’ve been ordered to change course and come about to a heading of three-one-nine mark two. It didn’t take a rookie helmsman to notice that this course correction put us on a straight path to Second Earth—even though it was that same rookie helmsman who pointed out the error in the heading. Was it an error? I wish I could say. I asked the Admiral for clarity on this and was told—in no few words—to keep my mouth shut. What’s more, Admiral Grayson has ordered a fleetwide blackout. No communications are to be sent from here without his personal authorization, and all exterior view ports have been set black. This mission is getting worse by the day.”
…
“Commanding Officer’s mission log, day forty-five, 0610 hours. We’ve arrived at Second Earth, and I’m extremely uneasy about it. At first glance, the planet isn’t what I expected. Before today, I’d always believed the official reports of the planet. Then again, why shouldn’t I have? This place was supposed to be a barren wasteland, wiped clean by some unholy wrath brought down by the Kafarans. What I see…well, it couldn’t be further from the truth. Most of the population centers are almost fully intact, with only the major cities suffering what could be termed ‘moderate damage.’ Hell, our initial scans even showed basic flora and fauna thriving in some of the equatorial regions. As far as radiation is concerned, the levels are almost human-tolerable. Some of the more robust species of the Unified Collaboration wouldn’t even notice the effects at all. My biggest concern now is: What do I do with this information?”
…
“Commanding Officer’s mission log, day forty-six, 0500 hours. An electronic intelligence craft was launched two hours ago. We’ve been told by the Valley Forge’s commanding officer not to attempt communications with it, as it will be coordinating with the carrier only. However, he didn’t say anything about sensors. We tracked it all the way to the far side of the planet, to a point directly over where Delta Base should have been, but then we lost her. Thirty minutes later, the ELINT returned on our scopes and immediately landed back on the carrier. I wish to hell I knew what was going on. The crew is on edge and I don’t blame them one damn bit.”
…
“Commanding Officer’s mission log, day forty-six, 1045 hours. We’ve been ordered to help coordinate fighter and reconnaissance cover for the Valley Forge. I’ve been told by the Admiral that the Valley Forge will be ferrying logistics craft down to the surface to perform ‘training maneuvers.’ This whole thing seems highly irregular, and I’ll bet my last credit on the fact that something else is going on here. Why can’t they just be honest with us?”
…
“Commanding Officer’s mission log, day forty-seven, 0300 hours. I awoke from a dead sleep to the sound of Alert Condition One being set. God, could those alarms be any more annoying? By the time I got to the bridge I was told that it had been a sensor malfunction. One of the technicians said he’d spotted something on the long-range sensors, but couldn’t explain in more detail what he’d scanned. When we played back the sensor recording we saw—for a split-second—a vessel large enough to be classified a cruiser on the outer fringes of the system. The blip was there one sweep, then gone the next. Not wanting to take any chances, I sent out our single ELINT craft from the 55th and a pair of fighters from the 212th interceptor squadron ten minutes ago. I’ll see what they have to report before I turn off the alarms. I hope they transmit back soon. These noises are driving me crazy. The Valley Forge is still in the middle of their ‘training maneuvers’ to the surface, and I’ve been notified that those operations won’t stop unless our recon craft find something out there.”
…
“Commanding Off
icer’s mission log, day forty-seven, 0400 hours. Our recon squadron still hasn’t reported in yet, nor have the other three fighters that went out in search of them. This is really unlike Lieutenant Commander Sterling. Hell, they could have flown out to the edge of the system and back by now. I’ve notified Admiral Grayson on the Valley Forge. He says he’ll send out another fighter wing as soon as his last patrol comes in. We
…
“Commanding Officer’s mission log, day forty-seven, 0420 hours. The sensor blip just came back a few minutes ago, and this time it’s almost on top of us. The Valley Forge sent out fighters to investigate, but they lost communications with them seconds after they
Shawn and Melissa watched and listened as voices rang out from somewhere behind Taggart prior to the Captain signing off from this particular log.
“Captain, there’s something on the short range sensors!”
Captain Taggart turned from the screen to face the unseen crewmember. “Specify location!”
“It’s off our starboard bow, sir. Closing rapidly.”
“Stand by on
“They’re firing!”
“Evasive action! Hard to
*
Shawn and Melissa watched as the screen imaged wavered and blanked out.
“That’s it, the last entry,” Melissa said sorrowfully. “The log recorder shut off at that time.”
“That somewhat explains what Captain Taggart was doing down in auxiliary control,” Shawn said. “He probably wanted some privacy away from CIC to record these log entries. He barely had time between his last two to make it out of the room. That’s one minor mystery solved.”
“Yes, a very small one. I still want to know what the Valley Forge thought she was doing,” Melissa added defiantly. “Sector Command vessels are strictly ordered to stay clear of Second Earth at all times. No one should have been sent down to the planet for any reason whatsoever.”
“What if Admiral Grayson was working under orders?”
“The only one who could have cleared that would have been the Director of Intelligence, and even he would have to go through a dozen channels to make it happen. Add to that the fact that he didn’t say anything to me when we met here on board the Rhea.”
“Does that mean he didn’t do it?”
She smiled faintly. “I know what you’re getting at, Shawn. It just…wouldn’t make sense, that’s all. I mean, we were bound to turn up something out here in our search that could’ve easily put us on this train of thought. The Director could just as easily have told me if he’d given the Valley Forge an order of this magnitude. He’s smarter than you think he is.”
“And more devious, I imagine.”
“Don’t try too hard. If half the things I’ve heard about him are true, you’d lose a month’s sleep from the stories I could tell.”
Shawn folded his arms lightly across his chest. “And here I thought you knew him pretty well.”
“I work for him, Shawn. That doesn’t mean I get invited to his kid’s birthday parties.”
“He has kids?”
“I don’t know. It’s a figure of speech.”
“But you know him well enough to admit he’s dangerous. You did warn me about him, remember? And not too subtly, I might add.”
“Let’s just say I know his methods, and that you were wise to take my advice.”
“I do make good decisions from time to time.” He placed a hand on hers.
She smiled and nodded. “We’ll see about that one. For now, let’s check the navigational computer before we go talk to Captain Krif. I want all the ammunition I can get my hands on before I get stuck in a room with him again.”
“That’s the kind of thinking I like to hear.” Shawn moved into the back of the bay and retrieved the Icarus’ computer from the same storage locker that had held his EVO suit. The box seemed somewhat lighter than the last time he’d held it. He walked back to the mid deck and placed it on the tabletop for Melissa’s inspection.
She plugged the data cable into the unit and tried to access the information using D’s main computer.
Nothing happened.
“I don’t understand,” she said, obviously annoyed. “There’s no data on here. Your computer says that there’s a hardware malfunction.”
“Let me try,” Shawn said as he moved between her and the keypad. “This old computer can be a little temperamental.” After a few keystrokes, Shawn got the same error message.
Melissa reached into her pocket and withdrew a magnetic driver. “This should crack the case in seconds.” She aimed the pen-sized device at the case, and the lid of the computer popped open with little fanfare. It didn’t take long to figure out what had happened.
“The holodrives are gone!” she cried in astonishment.
Shawn eyed the navigation computer, then looked around the otherwise empty lounge. “Somebody’s been in here.”
“Impossible,” she sighed. “This case is coded and magnetically sealed. Only someone with my clearance level or higher could have opened it. And they’d need one of these,” she held the pen-sized drive at eye level. “It’s specially coded to access material such as this. You can’t just make one, nor does the Rhea’s inventory list one on their shelves somewhere.”
“Then someone else on board the carrier not only has your clearance level and one of your little toys, but they also had the guts to climb on my ship to get it.”
She shook her head. “Again, not possible. I’m the highest-ranking investigation specialist on board.”
Shawn looked to the empty computer core. “The proof is in the pudding, ma’am. And, if what you say is correct, then I’d say we have a spy aboard.”
Chapter 13
Krif stood up from behind his desk, balled his fists, and then slammed them against the desktop’s unforgiving surface. “So you’re suggesting there is a covert operative on board my ship?” His fury was nearly unchecked.
“It looks that way, Captain,” Melissa said as she stood her ground. She was determined not to let Krif get under her skin this time—no matter how hard he tried.
“I guess I should say another spy, considering I already know that you’re here.”
“Technically, I’m not a spy. I’m an intelligence officer.”
“If it looks like a fish and smells like a fish,” he said with disdain.
“Regardless, Captain. You may not approve of my occupation, but I’m no spy. So you now have a much bigger problem to deal with.”
Krif looked to Shawn. “What I don’t understand, Commander, is how this spy got onto your ship and made off with the drives without you knowing about it. You said your mechanic was there the whole time?”
“Yeah, and he said no one came near the ship.”
“Then he’s obviously lying.”
“Hey!” Shawn shouted in Trent’s defense. “If you want to—”
“I’m talking right now, Kestrel. Wait your turn.” Krif’s gaze shifted to Melissa. “And you’re sure that the drives were inside the module when you removed them from the ship?”
“I’m positive. I scanned for the contents myself before we left the Icarus’ auxiliary control compartment. There was viable data inside that storage container.”
“Who ultimately removed the container from the navigational computer?”
Melissa looked at Shawn, who shifted his eyes to her without turning his head.
>
“Oh, come on. Which one of you did it?”
“We were…preoccupied,” Kestrel offered.
“Doing what, may I ask?”
“Getting the Captain’s log from his personal file.”
“So then this Lieutenant Garcia took out the drives?”
“Yes,” Melissa and Shawn said in unison.
“Then that’s two potential suspects,” he said as he sat back at his desk. He accessed his communications terminal and punched in his personal security code. “Sickbay, this is the Captain.”
A moment later the voice of the ship’s doctor came online. “This is Doctor Finly. Go ahead, sir.”
“Is Lieutenant Garcia still with you?”
“I was just finishing up my examination now, sir. You’ll be happy to know that—”
Krif cut the good doctor off midsentence. “Don’t let the lieutenant leave sickbay.”
“But, sir…his examination is done. I can’t hold him—”
“Damn it, woman! You’re a Commander. Pull some rank and keep him there. I’m sending down another Marine to augment Sergeant Adams.”
Ophelia was obviously perturbed, but complied. “Yes, sir. I’ll see what I can do.”
“Good. Krif out.” He punched another access code into his computer. “Security, this is the Captain.”
“Security here, sir. Gunnery Sergeant Murrow speaking.”
“Gunny, I need you to send one man, fully armed, down to sickbay. Sergeant Adams is already there. You are to escort Lieutenant Garcia to the brig on my authority as commanding officer. Understood?”
“Yes, sir. Absolutely.”
“Good. Send another detachment of two Marines to the hangar bay where that civilian transport is located. Grab the mechanic, Sergeant Trent Maddox, and put him in the brig as well, in a cell opposite the lieutenant.”
“Right away, sir.”
“Krif out.”
Shawn rushed toward Krif’s desk and slammed his palms down on its surface. “Damn it, Dick! You can’t do that!”
“I can and I did. If I had a good reason, I’d throw you two in there as well, but just because I don’t have it, it doesn’t mean I can’t make something up.”