by Drew Avera
Brendle let out the breath he’d been holding as Deis spoke and placed a hand on Deis knee, getting the man’s attention. “Thank you,” he said.
“Don’t thank me, Malikea made me come in here to make up with you.”
Brendle looked at him, confused, “Really?”
Deis burst out laughing. “No, we’re family now and family always makes up. I’m sorry I threatened you. It seemed like the only option at the time because all of us felt the same amount of concern for Anki’s wellbeing.”
“Well, that makes me feel better.”
“I’m not sure why I hear surprise in your voice. Didn’t you say we were family before?”
Brendle nodded. “I did, but sometimes it’s hard to accept that how I feel about you guys on the crew is how you feel about me too.”
“Like you don’t deserve it?” Deis asked, frowning.
“Yeah.”
Deis played with the fringes of his robe for a moment before standing. “When it comes to family, I’m not sure anyone truly deserves the affection they’re given. But it doesn’t change anything. Life is full of moments, each one defining itself in a small arc of time. When we look back on it, we will see what was truly most important to us. For me, it will be Malikea, Anki, you, and this ship. If I had to choose one over the other, it would be the most difficult decision of my life.”
“You would choose Malikea,” Brendle said, a smile curling his lips.
“Without a doubt,” Deis said with a chortle. “Just as you would choose Anki. But those decisions would weigh on us because we love one another. That’s how I know we are a family and that is how you should know you deserve your feelings for us to be reciprocated, and they are. Just trust that and don’t hide from it. Malikea and I are here for you and Anki, just as you have been there for us.”
Brendle looked up at Deis and smiled. “I really appreciate this talk. I feel better.” He knew he spoke the truth because he felt like a weight was lifted from his shoulders, or at least the burden was shared now. He still worried about Anki, but he knew he had support from Deis and Malikea, which made things feel more bearable.
“Malikea said you would,” Deis replied, tossing the blue ball towards the bulkhead, causing it to bounce back in Brendle’s direction. “When you’re done playing with your ball, Malikea has dinner ready.
The ball bounced back towards Brendle, but he let it go. Instead, he rose from the deck and followed Deis off the bridge. “I wasn’t playing with it,” he said as they exited the bridge.
“You totally were, just like a child, but I won’t tell anyone,” Deis replied.
“Thanks, I guess.”
“Except for Malikea and Anki; I think they should know.”
“What? You said you wouldn’t say anything. You’re making it sound weird anyway.”
Deis laughed. “It’s nice to have funny Brendle back because brooding Brendle is annoying,” he said as he descended the ladder well.
Brendle followed. “What is that supposed to mean? I’m the same Brendle.”
Deis laughed.
Eighteen
Hespha
Steaming water poured down Hespha’s back as she stood in the shower. It was her favorite place to think, encapsulated by the cascading sound of water and wrapped in the warmth of it beating against her body as it pulsed every other second, massaging away the stress of the day. She reached out and held onto the stone tiles surrounding her, bracing herself in case she lost her balance as she closed her eyes and tried to meditate. Somewhere within the first few minutes, the world fell away, and she was left on a plane of her sole existence outside of the real world. It was with everything else gone that she could focus on the problem troubling her.
Her thoughts targeted T’anoi’s office and where he might hide information he didn’t want anyone else to know about. After combing through countless files for as many times, she was emptyhanded. She had to think outside the box, away from the traditional means of storing data in physical files and on his computer. Both were clean, but what else was at his disposal, what else could hide the truth?
“Incoming call,” a robotic voice said, startling her.
Hespha groaned, wiping water from her eyes and contemplating whether to accept it. “Who is it?”
“Ka’Hor’al.”
“Please mark my status as unavailable,” she replied. She was tired of his constant need for attention. She could hardly go an hour alone without being forcibly reminded of his existence as he inserted himself into practically every aspect of her life. The more she tried to pull away, the harder he clung to what she thought would be better dissolved. Why can’t he see we are wrong for one another?
“Message sent.”
Hespha sighed in relief. That will stall him long enough to finish my shower, but I’m sure I’ll have a few messages waiting for me. “Turn off notifications for the rest of the evening.”
“Notifications are disabled.”
Whatever he wants will have to wait until tomorrow. I need a break.
She continued to stand in the downpour of hot water, trying once again to lose herself, but now her thoughts were muddled with Ka’Hor’al’s incessant need for coddling. The more she thought about it, the angrier she grew, to the point her heart beat rapidly in her chest as her breathing increased.
“Goddammit, water off,” she said, prompting the water to slow to a trickle before cutting off as the valves closed electronically. Hespha grabbed a towel and stepped out, not bothering to dry herself off, preferring to wrap the towel around her body and stalk into the bedroom to lie down. Something has got to give, she thought, looking up at the ceiling as the warm water dripping down her body cooled under the spinning fans above her. If things don’t change, I’m going to have to resort to something else.
“Computer, compile the call data from Ka’Hor’al beginning six months ago,” she said.
“Does this include calls not to you as well?”
“Sure,” she said, “why the hell not?” Maybe he’s stalking someone else too, she thought.
“Data collected.”
“Display on the wall.” The compilation of calls from Ka’Hor’al appeared on the far wall of her bedroom. Ordered by date, oldest to newest, it did not take long to notice a trend. The closer to T’anoi’s death, the higher the frequency of calls he made, but not necessarily just to Hespha. “Who are those unidentified numbers?”
“Data not obtainable.”
“What the fuck? Do a global search.” She bit her bottom lip as the search took place. Within a few seconds, the results posted to her screen. Nothing.
“Data not obtainable.”
“Do a sector-wide search.”
“Data not obtainable.”
“What the hell have you been up to, Ka’Hor’al?” Hespha scrolled through the data and removed the batch of numbers to file separately. “I may not know who these numbers belong to, but I’m sure as hell going to find out. Computer, save this data, but encrypt it.”
“Data saved and encrypted.”
Nineteen
Anki
Falling felt like floating. At any second she expected to hit the ground, Anki’s vision turning black as her life faded. But nothing at all seemed to happen. She breathed slowly, steadying her nerves as she dared a glance beneath her. Canting her neck, she looked down with her peripheral vision, seeing nothingness. What? She turned her body in midair, demanding a better view of what was coming, but her perspective shifted as her body spun one-hundred-eighty degrees. Now, instead of falling, she was standing, looking out over an expansive horizon. Hues of purple and pink smeared the sky amidst raging clouds in the distance. Enthralled by its beauty, she tried to take it all in, looking side to side. Behind her, the cliff was gone, yet so was the cityscape from before.
“Carista!” She called out, her voice hoarse.
“Anki?”
She turned, trying to find the source of the voice speaking her name, but no one was there. Fra
ntically, she turned in circles, squinting as she looked out over the distance. Completely alone on a barren world, she saw no one and nothing. “Carista? Anyone?” She said, barely above a whisper.
Lightning crashed in the distance, a bone chilling response to her call.
What am I going to do? I have nowhere to go.
Fear crept back into her, flooding her mind to the point of panic as she fought to hold herself together. Her chest rose, a mix of fear and anger and resentment. She did not know how she got to this world, but she knew she wanted to burn it down if that was what it took to reveal its secrets.
On the far horizon, she saw movement. Whatever it was, it was too small to make out before it disappeared over the crest of a small hill. With no other choice, Anki walked towards it, chasing shadows in hopes of uncovering something more. Her legs burned with each step and her body ached, but she buried the pain, forcing herself forward because that’s what Marines do. Step by step, she made her way towards the hill, lightning flashing above it hauntingly.
Anki felt like she was walking towards her own death, but she did not let it bother her. she was ready for whatever happened. She just didn’t want to wait for death, to prolong the inevitable. It’s better to stare the bitch in the eye, she thought, taking another step in what could be her last.
“Anki?” The voice was louder.
She kept walking, staring ahead, her eyes fixed upon the hill where she saw movement. Light flickered ahead, but it wasn’t lightning, it was something else.
A sign?
Anki quickened her step despite the pain and exhaustion. She ran towards it, sucking in gasps of air as she exerted herself beyond what she knew she was capable of. She had not trained for something like this since before departing Luthia, but the muscle memory was there. No matter what, she was not going to stop running.
Twenty
Ilium
As they entered the bridge, Commander Quino followed Ilium. Stavis stayed in the back, allowing the new Executive Officer to chat with the captain. Ilium wished she hadn’t done that, because the conversation so far bordered on mundane.
“How many sailors are on board?” Quino asked.
“The King Slayer berths more than two-thousand currently. We can accommodate a crew of four-thousand if needed, but the extra space is useful for storing goods to minimize the need for frequent replenishments,” Stavis answered, saving Ilium the trouble.
“How often are replenishments done?” The ever-quizzical Quino asked, the sound of his voice grating on Ilium’s nerves.
“About once every forty-five days,” he said, frustration in his voice. “Look, I know you have a lot of questions, and they are good questions, but this information can be found in the ship’s operations manual and your welcome aboard package. The King Slayer is one of three ships of its class. We do things different here, and we also have to accommodate the demands of headquarters as the flagship in this sector. It’s impossible for you to know everything on your first day, so please observe operations and absorb information as it comes naturally.” Ilium felt like a dick for reprimanding the man in front of everyone on the bridge, but Quino just smiled back.
“I understand. I’m just excited to be here is all.”
“We’re excited to have you, sir,” Stavis said, glaring at Ilium behind Quino’s back.
The captain swallowed hard, trying to maintain his composure, which proved difficult when he was agitated. “Absolutely,” he lied straight to the man’s face. “I just don’t want to overwhelm you with information that may distract you from what we are about to embark upon.”
“Which is?” Quino asked.
“We have intel on the ship that attacked us. It is no longer in the sector, but it left behind residual drive information we hope will allow us to track it. So, we will reconnoiter and send a few scout ships out to investigate,” Stavis answered.
Quino smiled. “Brilliant. We will bring the fight back to them.”
Ilium took a seat in the captain’s chair and leaned back, resting his chin on his closed fist. “We will be doing more than that. If we find out who was responsible for the attack, this ship will prioritize their annihilation.”
“It’s nice to have headquarters’ support like that.”
Ilium smiled. “Who said anything about having headquarters’ support?”
Stavis stepped in. “I think what Captain Gyl is saying, is that our crew wants to see justice, and though we have not received official orders to attack on sight, we are prepared to do what is necessary to avenge our shipmates.”
“Yeah, that’s exactly what I meant,” Ilium said, looking away from Quino and Stavis and towards the monitors depicting their trajectory. “I’m sure the orders will come once we have solid evidence and a known target. Until then, we conduct our investigation and see what we can find. Do you want to take a seat and observe?”
Quino nodded. “Of course, Captain.” He sat on the chair next to Ilium and brought up his own monitor. “I can’t seem to log in.”
“They must not have you in the system yet. Lieutenant Stavis, could you please have someone from IT verify Commander Quino’s credentials, so he can have access to the ship’s computers?”
“Yes, sir,” she replied, stepping towards a console and lifting a headset.
She spoke facing away from them, and he knew why. If Quino was not in the database, then that meant he was a mole sent by Harager. Interesting, Ilium thought, that my old mentor would be keen on spying on me. I guess pulling away from my leash wasn’t part of his plan for me.
“Commander, could you please try again?” Stavis asked.
Quino typed his information into the monitor once again, this time gaining access. “I’m good to go,” he said.
“Excellent,” Ilium replied. “Let’s see about tracking down that ship, shall we?”
“Captain, there’s something you need to see on the third deck,” Stavis said.
Ilium glanced up at her as she spoke the code words for there being a problem with their new guest. “Can it wait?” His question code for “Was I right”?
“No, sir.” That was a “yes.”
Ilium looked over to Quino and leaned towards him. “Please excuse me. I’ll return shortly.”
“Would you like me to accompany you?” Quino asked.
“No, this is the boring part of the job. Probably just an expired fire bottle or something. I should probably delegate the maintenance responsibilities to someone else,” he said with a laugh, “but I prefer to be hands-on.” Ilium followed Stavis off the bridge and down the nearest ladder well. They kept walking until the passageway cleared and they ducked into a small compartment. “What is it?”
“Commander Quino has no military background at all. His record does not exist, no name, no images, nothing. I’m not sure how this could happen,” Stavis said.
I do, Ilium thought. “Did they check everything? We have to be sure.”
“I spoke to IT and they verified numerous times that Commander Quino is not part of the fleet in any capacity. What should we do?”
Ilium gritted his teeth. This is what I was afraid of. Harager has more resources than I thought. “We pretend nothing is wrong and keep him busy. How much access did you give him to the ship’s computers?”
“He can view only unclassified information. All outgoing messages will be patched into Intel before being forwarded.”
“Good,” Ilium said. “Monitor the situation with Intel, and if things get out of hand, we will space him.”
Stavis stepped back. “Sir, what’s going on?”
Ilium looked at her questioningly. “You’re the one briefing me. I don’t understand.”
She sighed. “I feel like you’re hiding something, and that puts us at risk. Mole or not, I’m not comfortable taking orders from someone who might not be forthright with me.” She stood stoically, jaw clenched. He could tell by the look in her eye that she knew she was speaking out of line with a senior officer, but h
ad the strength and integrity to do it for the good of the ship. He respected her for it.
It was Ilium’s turn to sigh. “Look, it’s a long story, and I will tell you, but please accept the short version for now.” Her eyes widened as he spoke. “The Greshian Navy has a mole and his name is Harager. This man runs an organization within the ranks in order to gain intel on the fleet and further the war efforts for his own financial gain. He also has illusions of seizing control of the Empire. Harager recruited me to commission into the Navy and feed him information in exchange for a fast-tracked naval career. Once I realized how deep I was in, and how he used me, I left the organization. Those events led to my coming on board the King Slayer after he tried to have me killed by sending me to a ship under his direct control.”
“So, the mutiny was a means to kill you because you walked away from his organization?”
“Yes,” ilium said. “And I’m afraid the attack on this ship was his way of getting to me again.”
“But the ship in the attack used tech the Greshian military has never seen,” Stavis said, one eyebrow raised as though in doubt.
“I know, but Harager has a means of getting his hands on things. I think Harager sent Quino to kill me.”
Stavis stood gawking at Ilium for a moment. “And I take it you’re not a naval officer either?”
“I think you’re missing the point, but yes, I am a real naval officer. I went through the same training as you. Both of us took the same oath,” Ilium answered.
She looked at him skeptically. “I don’t know if I believe you,” she said. “Maybe we should space both of you to dissolve any threat you pose being here.” She took a powerful defensive stance, ready for Ilium to attack.
Ilium swallowed hard, lifting his hands in surrender. “Look, I know what it sounds like, but I’m not the same man he recruited into his organization. I’m on your side. After everything that’s happened, now, more than ever I’m in service to the Empire.” The words fell from his lips without much thought, his sincerity surprising him.