by Drew Avera
Dickson cleared his throat and resisted the urge to speak back contemptuously to mask his trepidation. "I understand the order, sir," he said, "but I don't understand why we’re going to such lengths to take someone into custody who is relatively unarmed. In the days that we pursued him, he has not fired against us at all, even though we have targeted his ship numerous times. Hoyt’s only response has been to evade even though the Interceptor is equipped with a railgun and point defense countermeasures. They might not be the best weapons for an offensive strike, but he had plenty of opportunities to fire upon us during his escape.”
Captain Dickson let the statement linger as he awaited a response from Admiral Hardak. His mind raced as he wondered what Hoyt must have done to warrant such heavy hostility that far up the chain of command.
"Understood, Captain. Still, my order stands. Maintain a perimeter in orbit around Karnack until my ship has entered the sector. I estimate another twenty hours before we arrive. Do not engage the enemy until you receive orders from me."
Captain Dickson balled his fist tightly. He hated where this was going and felt that hostilities would escalate into a tragedy with Admiral Hardak leading the charge. "I—"
"Admiral Hardak out."
The transmission ended with a chime and Captain Dickson was left in his quarters with abrupt silence and filled with rage.
"That son of a," he seethed, but let it drop. There was no reason to carry resentments for the challenging orders he was presented with. He had little choice but to follow through as he was commanded, lest he put a target on his own back. It was clear that the Consulate was cleaning house, but he also noted that most of the targets were human. He wasn’t sure what that meant, other than that he would spend the next three-quarters of the day orbiting Karnack and monitor the situation.
It was the naval equivalent of being put in timeout and he hated it.
He muttered a soft prayer in hopes that Hoyt would come to his senses and allow a peaceful arrest.
If not, there was going to be hell to pay.
Dickson pulled on his jacket but didn't bother zipping it as he left his quarters. He knew that Lieutenant Harrison was at the helm and needed to be relieved for chow. What better time to inform him of the change in orders than that very moment?
It would delay the previous order he passed down, but then again there was no need to arm up his extraction team until he received orders directly from the admiral. In the meantime, he figured the best thing he could do was wallow in his anger alone on the bridge as he watched the planet peacefully spin through the viewport of his ship.
He entered the bridge and Lieutenant Harrison stood at attention immediately, "attention on—"
"Carry on," Dickson interrupted. "Besides Lieutenant, you're the only one on deck, though I appreciate the effort."
Harrison nodded stiffly and relaxed to standing at ease. "We’re within an hour of entering Karnack atmosphere, sir. Shall I call for the extraction team?"
Dickson collapsed into his seat, his uniform jacket splaying open to match the disgruntlement that he felt. "No need, Lieutenant. I just received an update from Admiral Hardak regarding the mission. He has ordered us to maintain an orbit around Karnack until he arrives with his ship."
"The admiral is coming, sir? Doesn't that seem a bit excessive?"
"Don't get me started. Program the ship to orbit Karnack and go to chow. I’m hesitant to stand down right now, so don't mention the update to anyone else. If they ask, then direct them to me. This isn’t the time for sending mixed messages."
"As you wish, sir." The lieutenant turned to the console. His fingers danced on the screen as he programmed a new trajectory for a close orbit of Karnack. After a moment, he turned on his heels and stepped towards his commanding officer. "What's troubling you, sir?"
Dickson glanced in the direction of the officer but otherwise did not move. "What leads you to believe anything is wrong, Lieutenant?"
Harrison shrugged. "Honestly, sir, you haven't been acting like yourself ever since the orders to retrieve Commander Hoyt were dispatched. Were you close to him?"
Dickson straightened up in his seat and eyed his lieutenant directly. "I know them if that's what you're getting at. But no, we were not close. The only thing that troubles me about this dispatch is a list of details to match the charges that weren’t initially released. They have only added details to the report in the days following the charges and it violates protocol. It leads me to question what constitutes treason in the eyes of our new Chief of Naval Affairs? Was Hoyt colluding with an enemy, or did he simply not follow an order as directed? There's too much gray area for me to be truly comfortable with pursuing him."
"Perhaps that will be revealed after he's arraigned," Harrison said.
"Perhaps," Captain Dickson replied, "but don't you think this sets a precedence that could be abused?"
"With all due respect sir. Don't you think questioning, or disobeying, orders from Admiral Hardak sets its own precedent?"
Dickson rose from his seat, and Harrison backed out of the way as the commanding officer loomed over him. "I'm not disobeying any orders, and I’ll do as I’m instructed, Lieutenant. I'm just questioning the validity of the charges that I'm carrying out. There's a big difference."
“I think I understand, sir,” the lieutenant replied sheepishly.
Dickson stood down, not wanting to put fear into the young officer just to prove his point. “I’m sorry, I’m not trying to be hostile. I have a lot on my mind and my correspondence with Admiral Hardak wasn’t a pleasant one.”
“Yes, sir,” Harrison muttered as he took a step back.
Dickson could see on the young man’s face that he had taken his frustrations out on the other man. It wasn’t his intention, but how was Harrison supposed to know that? The thought gave him a theory that he wanted to mull over…alone.
“Go eat chow, Lieutenant. I’ll man the bridge for now.”
“Aye, sir,” Harrison replied before darting towards the door.
Dickson fell into his seat and let his mind wander to what Hardak’s intentions could be to take Hoyt in on his own. Whatever it was, it had to reveal a truth that Hardak didn’t want to be known.
The captain opened the report on the screen next to his seat and scrolled through it once more. The charges were lengthy, but the stem of the report centered on the release of confidential information to a known enemy. The question that formed in Dickson’s mind was what kind of classified information and how did Hoyt allegedly get access to it?
Neither answer was going to reveal itself on the black and white file on his monitor. The only way to find out was at the source.
Hoyt and his ship.
Chapter Eight
"Don't forget to set the girls up for a room tonight," Sarah said as she shoved a fresh set of clothes into an overnight bag. "They've been cooped up on this ship for too long and they deserve an opportunity to sleep in a real bed."
Kevin grabbed the bag and slung it over his shoulder before embracing his wife. "Don't we all deserve that?" The question swung lightly towards a playful innuendo.
Sarah chuckled before pulling away. "We certainly do, but we need to get this ship fixed before we focus on lavish things like hot showers and warm beds."
“And hot meals? And other things?”
“And that,” she replied. “Not that the freeze-dried rations aren’t delectable.”
She was joking about the food but the truths she spoke only served to make Kevin feel worse about the situation. Escaping Valara with his family had been a last-minute decision and one that he regretted ever since they left their homeworld. "I never intended to put everyone in danger," he said, keeping his voice low to keep their daughters from overhearing him. "If not for the fact that Dickson was the one pursuing us, I'm afraid anyone else would have fired on us."
Sarah frowned and looked away, preserving him the guilt of seeing the sadness on her face. "Try not to think about that, Kevin. You mad
e the best decision that you could given the circumstances, and I'm not going to blame you for doing what you thought was right. You know I would follow you to hell and back if that's what it took and I have no doubt that our daughters would do the same."
Her encouragement warmed his soul and he wrapped his arms around her once more. "Have I ever told you that I love you?"
"Only every day for the last twenty years," she replied as she canted her head towards him and kissed him on his cheek. "And I want to hear it for the next twenty years as well."
Kevin let go and took a step towards the cargo bay before turning his attention back to his wife. "What would I do without you?"
"I was about to ask you the same thing," Sarah replied with a grin. "Now, go get the parts to fix the ship so we can get out of here. I'm not a fan of just sitting on my hands knowing that the fleet is looking for us."
Kevin gave his wife a goofy salute as he responded, "yes ma'am." She laughed as he turned and clicked his bootheels together playfully before marching through the cargo bay, out of the ship, and out onto the glassy terrain.
Auden and Tara waited for him, both wearing grey cloaks with the hoods pulled up over their heads to cut down on the piercing sunlight pouring down on them. Kevin pulled up his hood before turning his attention back to the ship and closing the cargo ramp.
He looked down at his arm and noticed the Consulate patch sewed on the shoulder of his jacket. Knowing what he did about the uprising decades ago, he felt it best not to advertise his affiliation. He reached down and dug his fingernail under the patch enough to find a weak spot before ripping it off. A tangle of thread still protruded from the fabric of his jacket, but at least without the patch, it was neutral enough to not immediately lump him in with being a Consulate officer.
He dropped the patch to the ground and kicked rocky sand over it, burying it like he had buried his career by running.
There was no going back now.
"Are you girls ready to go to town?"
"I'm more ready to get off this planet," Auden said as she wafted her hand in front of her nose, cringing as she spoke. "It smells like rotten eggs."
"That's just the smell of the desert," Kevin replied as he walked past his daughters and headed towards the city. "You should've been there when I landed on Camden. It was a toxic swampland and a despicable place to spend any amount of time. Sometimes I think I can still smell it."
"What were you there for?" Tara asked as she fell in step next to her father. She stretched her legs to keep up with his casual gait, but the height difference made it more taxing for her shorter legs.
He noticed and slowed to a more accommodating pace.
"It was a search and evasion school following my pilot training," he replied. "We were being pursued by soldiers acting as enemy combatants and it was our job to go seven days avoiding capture."
"How many days were you able to go?" Auden asked from behind him.
He knew that she loved hearing stories about his training days. The life he lived before settling down and having children sounded much richer than patrolling in a scout craft. Of course, that was until recent developments.
He continued, "Three days, but what no one told us going in was that the test was designed for us to fail. Most of the people in my class were captured within the first day, some were lucky enough to make it two, and the rest of us were rounded up on the third day. No one ever made it past three days."
"Why would they design a test for you to fail?" Tara asked.
Kevin shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. "I didn't understand it at the time, but if you can evade an enemy until the end of the test, then what would that teach you other than basic survival techniques on the ground?"
"You probably wouldn't learn much of anything, but you would've passed the test," Tara answered.
"I think that's the point," Auden interjected as she stepped in line on the other side of her father. "The test was designed for you to fail so you could learn to resist their interrogation techniques, not how to evade detection."
"Bingo," Kevin said. He was proud of her for putting the pieces together instead of having to spell it out for her. There were only so many things he could do to teach his daughters about life, and what he had spent their entire life doing, without forcing them to go through the same things he had.
Once upon a time, he wanted them to experience the same life of service that he had, serving the Consulate Navy with dedication and pride. It seemed like a noble destiny, and it was one he was proud of.
Now, he could never see himself persuading them to raise their right hand for service knowing how quickly the organization turned on him based on a lie.
"So, did you learn how to resist their interrogation techniques?" Tara asked.
"I did, to some extent."
"What happened?" she asked, her tone revealing how much she craved more of the story he was telling for the first time.
"They tried to use what I loved against me," he said with a tremor to his voice.
"How so?" Auden asked.
"I'd already met your mother before I went to the training, and they had a picture of her, telling me what they were doing to her on the other side of the camp. They had recordings which sounded exactly like her, crying and screaming for them to stop torturing her until I finally broke. It was all fictitious, designed to manipulate me into giving in to their tactics, and I'm afraid that it worked."
"Do they not fail you for giving in?" Auden asked.
Kevin shook his head. "Everyone in my class gave in during the torture and revealed the secret we were supposed to keep. As you said, the course was designed for us to fail, and failed we did."
“That sounds terrible,” Auden said under her breath.
“It was, but looking back I can see the value in having that experience.” Kevin smiled down at his daughter. She had submitted her application to the Academy weeks ago and was due to find out the selection results within the coming months. He knew she was excited, but the future was fluid now.
It was his fault.
“Do you have any more stories like that?” Tara asked, pulling him from his thoughts.
“I have a few. Did I ever tell you two about the first time I was shot at?”
“No!” the girls answered in unison.
He smirked. “Don’t tell your mother that I told you this story, but I was stationed on the CNS Vincent and there was a skirmish in the Balatan Sector.” He glanced down to see his girls listening intently and then continued his story without shunning from the details. This was what he wanted as a father and he thought it best to do it while he could.
After all, you never knew when your time was up.
Chapter Nine
Captain Dickson paced on the bridge of the ship, keeping his eyes on the monitors as the sensor array scanned the surface of Karnack for Commander Hoyt's ship. He noticed a new sandstorm forming in the southern hemisphere of the desert planet, and he knew based on the demographic of the planet that the storm-plagued areas were largely uninhabited. Instead, he focused the majority of his efforts on a large mass of land in the northern hemisphere.
There were more than a dozen large cities scattered across the expansive terrain. The areas between were pockmarked by blasts from the orbital bombardment which took place many years prior.
He had nothing to do with the old war. If anything, it was nothing more than words in a textbook that the Consulate used to teach strategy and tactics to future commanding officers. Only a few of the Consulate naval officers were alive when the war took place. He could count on one hand how many he had met, and none of them were of age when the war finally ended and they still said that those acts left a stain on the Consulate's legacy.
Captain Dickson saw that stain now as the sunlight refracted off the glassy shards below, the evidence of immense heat that scorched the planet's surface and destroyed billions of lives.
"Computer, how many inhabitants are on Karnack?"
&
nbsp; "The last census declares a population of twelve million inhabitants." The computer replied.
Dickson groaned. Conservative estimates showed more than ten times that amount was killed during the old war. He could not fathom the justification for the proverbial genocide that took place so many years ago.
"How are the radiation levels?"
"Radiation levels in the northern hemisphere are less than one-hundred rad. Though those levels are much higher in the southern hemisphere, and it is speculated that those areas will not be habitable for another twenty years."
"Are there any hazards specific to non-Grotans to land on this planet?"
"Short duration should be safe, but it is not recommended for off-worlders to spend vast quantities of time on the surface due to possible carcinogens as a result of the bombardments."
“What is considered a short duration?”
“Seventy-two hours.”
“Doable. I’ll be back on the ship in less than two.”
“That amount of time is reduced by five-hundred percent if a storm arises.”
“What is in the forecast?”
“Clear weather in the immediate area.”
“Good. Keep me informed if any of that changes.”
“Yes, Captain.”
Dickson sat in his chair and leaned forward, keeping his gaze upon the planet as the sensor arrays continued scanning for Hoyt's ship. He wondered if Kevin knew the dangers of being on Karnack, and the hazards they posed to him and his family. Would he have landed there without a choice?
Dickson doubted it.
"Computer, which urban centers have the most resources for spacefaring craft?"