by AJ Vega
******
Julius sat in his command module waiting for the voting to draw to a close. The Confed’s deal had been presented to the crew and it was now up to them to accept it. Julius knew the vote would just be an academic exercise. This was the best deal they had ever been offered.
“The results, sir,” the yeoman said, handing him a datasheet.
He read the vote tally. As expected, it was a nearly unanimous decision in favor of the deal. Curiously, he noted only a single vote cast against it, but since the votes were anonymous, he did not know who the lone vote was. He handed it back to the yeoman.
“Broadcast the results to the crew.”
“Aye, sir.”
The yeoman scurried away.
Julius ordered Garval, who was now doing double-duty as both their Tactical Operations and Wave Warfare Officer, to send an encrypted transmission to Xanthus that they were now ready. They would then await for a response with the coordinates and time of the IPA meeting.
Within minutes, Julius heard a beep on Garval’s station signaling a response—far quicker than he expected.
Jessen analyzed the coordinates that they received.
“Deep space, sir—on the fringes of Sol system. Approximately one AU from the nearest colony,” Garval said. “The instructions state that they are ready to begin immediately, sir.”
Julius rubbed his chin. “I’ve never seen bureaucracy work so quickly. Instruct Wolf Squadron to land.”
“Wolf Squadron—RTB,” Garval spoke into the conference.
Julius could hear Reece’s voice reluctantly acknowledge—probably the last flight for Wolf Squadron.
“Tell Laina to come to the bridge—it’s time,” Julius said.
“Aye, Captain,” Garval said.
The plan now was to jump to the coordinates and then transport Chorus and her Conduit via a Confed shuttle. Eventually, he would surrender command of the Sea Wolf and accompany the crew to their new homestead on Mars.
There he would begin a new life—reinvent himself on a mostly barren planet. A place with pockets of densely packed domed cities and enticements designed to take the inhabitants’ minds off the fact that they existed on a dead world—no blue skies or oceans, just an orange haze with winds blowing oceans of sands. Julius wondered how long it would be before he was driven to insanity by the confinements of such freedom.
“Captain,” Garval said. “Wolf Squadron is aboard.”
At that moment, he heard the bridge doors open. He turned his module around to see Laina arrive. The crew’s gawking expressions acknowledged her entrance. She was wearing an elegant black dress that exposed her rarely-seen feminine qualities. Although she ignored the stares, and gave no indication that she relished the attention, Julius wondered if she secretly enjoyed it at some level.
Laina stood to Julius’ side, her arm resting on a handrail.
“I hope I did not miss the party,” she said to him.
“Party?” he said, looking her black dress up and down. “Seems you dressed more for a funeral.”
She turned her nose up to him but said nothing.
“Ready for stellar jump, sir,” Jessen said.
“Yes—we should jump,” Julius said, rubbing his hands together with false excitement. “A new life awaits us on the prison of Mars—I can’t wait!”
He leaned back in his chair, casting a quick look to Laina—an unamused expression visible on her face.
“Very well, let’s get this over with. Nav—initiate jump.”
“Aye,” Jessen said.
Julius could hear the low rumble from the reactor and the lights on the bridge dimmed. He felt the familiar sinking feeling and his vision blurred for a moment. An electrical snap sounded and the bridge lights came back on. The reactor’s rumble was then replaced by the normal ambient sounds of the bridge—the jump was successful.
“Travel complete,” Jessen said.
The main screen showed them to be in deep space. Tactical indicators on the screen revealed the details of the ships in the area. Their jump positioned them in the center of a Martian Confederacy escort, comprised of a battleship at their bow and a pair of destroyers on their flanks.
Farther out, he could see similar complements of UEP and Venusian battle groups, along with a smaller contingent that must have represented the minor worlds. The groups appeared to stare down a larger vessel in the center with IPA markings—the likely location for the meeting.
The tactical computer gave a detailed scan of the IPA vessel—a Galleon class ship. It comprised four interconnected structures, each stacked with circular torus levels. Although it looked more like a space station than a ship, it had full propulsion and gravitational jump drive capabilities—not to mention a full array of defensive weaponry and shielding hidden within its bulky design.
“Why the red lights?” Laina said to him, motioning around the bridge. “We’re an olive branch today, not a warship.”
Julius sighed. “Old habits. Ramey, stand us down from battle alert.”
“Aye, sir.”
Laina touched her ear and spoke a word. Julius realized she was wearing an ear-link. A hologram of Laina’s quarters appeared, then zoomed in on the hacker leader.
“Waverider,” Laina said, “tell Chorus we’re ready.”
“Yeah, we know—been monitoring the communications—”
“You’ve been what?” Julius barked.
“Thank you, Waverider.” Laina cut off the conference and turned to Julius.
“What difference does it make?” she asked.
“I’m still commanding this ship,” Julius grumbled. “I don’t want unauthorized …” He trailed off and sighed. “Fine. It doesn’t matter anyway.”
He turned his attention away from her and back to the viewscreen.
“Jared, go ahead and send a—”
He cut himself off. The events of the past days had happened so quickly, his mind had barely registered Jared’s death. At some point before he lost the ship, he would want to commemorate not only Jared’s death, but the other 112 that had been lost in the Sea Wolf’s service. At the speed that this was moving, he wondered if he would have enough time.
“Garval,” he said. “Send the greeting.”
“Yes, Captain.”
At that moment, he heard the bridge doors behind him open. He whirled his command module around to face it, and he saw Chorus. She was wearing a long green dress with sparkling jewels at its edges. Her hair was longer than when he last saw her, arranged in six braids with colored ribbons at their end—five of which bore the official colors of each world government. Curiously, the sixth braid was green—matching her dress.
Chorus went to the center of the bridge and faced the viewscreen. She stared at it a long moment before turning to face Julius and Laina—her expression seemed to display concern.
“Is everything okay?” Laina asked.
“I have never gone this far,” Chorus said sadly. Her expression suddenly brightened and she smiled. “Now these events become a new experience. I thank you for this.”
She approached Laina. “If something should happen…”
Laina nodded. “Yes—I know the plan.”
“What plan?” Julius asked suspiciously.
Chorus turned to him, articulating her words sternly.
“The plan that you must follow to make things right, if things go wrong.”
“Captain,” Garval said. “The Confed is launching a shuttle—to pick up the cargo, the passenger and …” his voice trailed off.
“And?” Julius pressed.
“To drop off a Confed officer… who will take command of the Sea Wolf.”
Julius’ hands squeezed the armrests of his chair. He had thought to have mentally prepared himself for this moment, but as the reality of it approached, he was having a hard time subduing the urge to fight.
“Allow it to land,” he ordered, the calm in his voic
e belying the struggle within him. “Well, Chorus, looks like your ride is here.”
Chorus walked toward the viewscreen, then turned to face them.
“Do not move my conduit until you hear from me.”
At that moment, thin wisps of white smoke extruded from her edges, encircling her form. The smoke surrounded her and became thicker until it hid her from sight. The smoke swirled around her, picking up speed as electrical discharges of blue energy crackled soundlessly within it. Julius closed his eyes as he felt a rush of air hit him and a wicked snap sound in his ears.
When he reopened them, Chorus was gone. Bewildered faces on the bridge turned to him. Some of the officers exited their modules in confusion.
“Well,” Julius began. “So much for being discreet. Yes, gentlemen, that was the A.I. offspring. Return to your stations.”
He turned to Laina. “What is this about? Why didn’t she wait for the shuttle? And why is she asking us not to transfer the cargo?”
She outstretched her hands. “I don’t know—she didn’t tell me.”
A voice suddenly came over the bridge intercom, “She’s okay—she just teleported herself to the IPA conference.”
Julius growled, “Quit making yourself at home in my ship’s computers!”
“Wait!” Laina said, raising her hand. “Waverider, can your team tap into the onboard computers of the IPA ship?”
“Uhhhh… we already have. I’m sorry, the guys were bored and—”
“It’s fine,” Laina said. “Can you locate the conference room and relay what is happening there?”
“It’s not going to work,” Julius said. “The whole place is probably null-field protected—”
At that moment a new image appeared on the viewscreen. It showed a round meeting chamber. In the center of the room stood a circular podium surrounded by rings of mostly empty seats. The inner-most ring of seats had the flags of the major worlds, with delegates sitting at each one—but other than that, only a handful of people was present. The image was accompanied with audio from the meeting, and Julius could hear the soft hum of a null field.
“How did you manage this?” Julius asked, but when the technical explanation began he cut them off. “Never mind. I don’t need to know.”
Laina walked over to the empty Wave Warfare module and sat in it.
Julius opened his mouth to object to her sitting in Jared’s old station, but she caught his expression and cut him off with a raise of her hand.
“I sympathize with the loss of an officer,” she said loudly, addressing the crew as much as Julius. “But this is the most important meeting to take place in the course of our lives, and I plan to sit comfortably watching it.”
Julius leaned back in his module and stared at the viewscreen. Laina was right: this was an important meeting—not only for them personally, but for all of humanity. He could now see Chorus arrive in the chamber, sitting herself next to Xanthus. It looked as though the meeting was about to begin.