by Eric Thomson
Torma shrugged.
“That’s not for me to say, sir. But if I were retracing his movements in the course of my investigation, it is what I would do.” He reached into his tunic’s left breast pocket and retrieved a thin wafer. “This holds a copy of Keter’s logs, with the navigation data we retrieved when we seized his ship’s computer core. Our analysts found no signs of tampering.”
“Then why bring Keter along?”
“Because I think we should speak with his trading contacts on Hatshepsut and find out who sold them the items we seized, and that is not recorded in his logs.”
“Excellent point, Colonel.” Watanabe gestured at Park, who took the proffered data wafer. “Does that mean you’ll place what I understand are superlative investigative skills at our disposal in tracking these mysterious others?”
“Absolutely, sir. If a potential threat to the Hegemony travels the wormhole network without our knowledge, finding it is our duty.”
“Then you and I should enjoy a pleasant expedition.”
— 8 —
––––––––
“Nice.” Ardrix emerged from her private cabin. “A porthole would improve things, but since this section is deep within the ship’s hull, the display will have to do.”
Torma stuck his head through the door connecting his quarters with the day cabin.
“It’s better than anything the Navy ever assigned me before now. I can live without a porthole.”
She gave him an amused look.
“I grouse, but in jest. None of the Brethren, not even Archimandrite Bolack himself, enjoys this sort of luxury. I shall pray to the Almighty I don’t get used to it. Believing we’re aboard a warship seems rather difficult at the moment.”
“You’ve never left the surface before today?”
Ardrix shook her head.
“No. My talent is not the sort desired by the Navy. Our trek is my first time away from Wyvern.” She wandered around the day cabin, examining every nook and cranny, opening and closing cupboards, then sat at one of the workstations and brought it to life. “I suppose I should track down my Brethren serving aboard Repulse in more traditional roles. Taking the ship’s pulse via my Sisters could tell us much, no?”
A slow smile relaxed Torma’s face.
“Indeed. But purely for reasons known only to the Void Reborn and not in service of the State Security Commission.”
She dipped her head. “As you say.”
“You’re free to do what you wish with your time, Sister. Do you know the Brethren serving in Repulse?”
“No. This is a 3rd Fleet ship, remember? They would come from the Arcadia Abbey. While senior Order members routinely visit Wyvern for special events at the Mother House, we ordinary Sisters from different abbeys don’t interact much. Most of us stay with the same house for our entire lives.”
Torma nodded. “Of course.”
“And you?”
“I’ll do my own reconnaissance when I join the ship’s officers in the wardroom for the midday meal. Their reaction should be instructive.”
“Perhaps we should enter together, so I can taste said reaction.”
“Even better.” Torma glanced at the day cabin’s display. “From what I read just now, they serve the midday meal in one and a half hours, at what the Navy insists on calling eight bells in the forenoon watch.”
“I’ll return a few minutes before that time, and we can make our grand entrance. I confess I’m curious about their feelings.”
“As am I.”
She gave him a sly look.
“About what? Our presence aboard or the mission?”
“Our presence. Only Commodore Watanabe and his captains should know where we’re headed. If others are aware, they violated orders, something I will report on our return.”
“Then I shall see if my colleagues caught wind of the mission. We Sisters often know things ahead of time.”
Torma let out a soft snort. “So I noticed. Go take the pulse of the ship’s Brethren.”
Ardrix quickly found her way to the senior Sister's quarters aboard and touched the door panel’s call screen. A few seconds passed, then the door slid open.
“Enter and be welcomed, Sister. I am Beata.”
Ardrix stepped across the threshold and found herself facing a small, silver-haired woman in naval uniform with the Phoenix Orb above her breast pocket. She bowed her head respectfully.
“I am Ardrix of the Wyvern Abbey, assigned to the State Security Commission.”
“And now on Commodore Watanabe’s staff.”
Beata smiled, revealing small, white teeth set in a face with such smooth features that Ardrix wondered about her actual age. She was surely much older than she appeared. Only the most experienced Sisters were appointed as ship’s counselor and chaplain.
Beata would certainly be senior to the Sister appointed as chief medical officer, and the latter were seasoned physicians.
“Along with your Commission superior, Colonel Crevan Torma. Yes, word gets around, my child. Though no one has yet informed me or anyone else why you’re among us and for how long, which is clearly by design. And that can only mean something unusual is afoot with a task force whose ships come from each of the four fleets.”
“I suppose rumors are rampant.”
Beata let out a delighted peal of laughter.
“The Navy lives on rumors, child. They entertain crews during what are almost always boring patrols. Right now, the rumors are such that everyone expects something so out of the ordinary, they can barely wait for it to begin. Shall I take you to meet the other Sisters serving in Repulse?”
“Yes, please.”
Ardrix had studied the names, images, and biographical thumbnails of her Brethren in Task Force Kruzenshtern, along with those of the senior Navy officers, as had Torma. She was curious about these Sisters trained in a different abbey in another star system. And she wondered whether Beata would see her as another of the flock she tended rather than independent of the ship’s Void Reborn contingent.
“Then please follow me. We shall visit sickbay where most work.”
Beata led Ardrix out of the cabin and down the passageway. After a few paces, she glanced over her shoulder.
“Just so we’re clear on lines of command, child, you answer entirely to your colonel, not me. Not even for spiritual matters, though you’re welcome among us for worship, meditation, and discussion. But it’s not because of your assignment as a State Security Commission interrogator and truth-sayer. As someone personally selected by Archimandrite Bolack for this cruise, you stand apart from the other Brethren, me included. And no, I didn’t touch your mind to know you were wondering about that very same subject. Anyone in your position would.”
Beata let out a throaty chuckle.
“Besides, I’d be a fool to dare intrude on a truth-sayer’s thoughts. My mind isn’t nearly as strong as yours.”
**
“How are the Brethren?” Torma asked when Ardrix entered their common day cabin a little over an hour later.
“Curious, like everyone else. Only Sisters, no Friars, not even among the medical orderlies. Reserved in my presence, though whether it’s because I come from a different abbey or because I work for the Commission, I couldn’t say. They’re my Sisters in the Almighty, but I sensed little sisterly feeling.” She shrugged. “It was probably just so in the old Order when abbeys dotted most of the known galaxy, and each developed a slightly different culture because of particular environmental and social pressures, and there was little intermixing between them.”
“What’s the general mood?”
“If Sister Beata is right, the crew hopes for something that will break the boredom of endless patrols. Considering the level of anticipation I sensed in the crew members I crossed during my brief tour, she’s probably right.”
“I suppose that make
s sense. They’ll find out when we jump to hyperspace on our first leg beyond Hegemony space. Then we’ll really see if excitement at being on a proper mission in the Hegemony’s defense will trump realization that this expedition might not be sanctioned, thereby exposing everyone to retribution when we return.”
Ardrix chuckled.
“That’s where we come in, Crevan. How can this be unsanctioned if a senior Commission officer and a Commission Sister are aboard, advising Commodore Watanabe? Whoever thought of using us in this way is a genius.”
“My money’s on Admiral Godfrey. He has a reputation for being highly imaginative and ruthlessly devious.”
“One could say the same about General Robbins. Did you do anything interesting while I was gone?”
He pointed at the display.
“I watched us break out of orbit.”
“Oh. Too bad I missed it. In any case, it’s time for the midday meal. Shall we cause consternation among the ship’s officers?”
“You say that as if the thought entertains you.”
She made a face.
“A Sister’s life isn’t exactly filled with base amusements, let alone the more sophisticated ones.”
“Then perhaps dining in the wardroom will offer at least a modicum of fun.” Torma gestured toward the door.
They walked aft until the next spiral staircase and descended a deck to where the ship’s officers had their quarters, then headed forward, lured by the soft buzz of many voices drifting through an open door. As they entered a half-full wardroom, a few heads turned in their direction, but the conversations went on unabated.
A woman wearing the rank insignia of a commander stood and stepped toward them. Torma recognized her as Laetitia Julianus, the ship’s first officer, based on the dossiers he’d read the previous day. Tall, lean, and pale, she was her commanding officer’s physical opposite in almost every way.
“Colonel, Sister, welcome to the wardroom. Consider it your home while you’re serving in Repulse.”
Both Torma and Ardrix inclined their heads.
“Thank you.”
“We’re informal most of the time, and other than during official dinners, it’s self serve.” Julianus gestured toward the buffet. “I’d consider it an honor if you joined me at my table.”
“Very gracious of you, Commander. We accept.”
“Then I’ll let you help yourselves.”
As they crossed the compartment, Torma and Ardrix briefly glanced at each other, and he figured they were thinking the same thing. Julianus probably told Repulse’s officers they should treat their guests as they would any others and ignore that he and Ardrix worked for the fearsome State Security Commission. It was the only thing that explained the lack of evident curiosity on their part.
Tray in hand, Torma led them to where a smiling Commander Julianus waited. As they sat across from her, he said, “The food certainly has a delightful aroma.”
“We eat well in this ship. Is this your first time aboard a Navy vessel, Colonel?”
“No. I’ve traveled in a few different naval transports and corvettes, but never in a ship of this size.”
“How about you, Sister?”
“This is my first time off-planet.”
“Then welcome to the wonders of outer space. Would either of you be interested in touring Repulse this afternoon?”
Torma nodded.
“With pleasure. How about you, Sister?”
“Please, yes.”
“We’ll do it after going FTL, then. I’ll pick you up at your quarters. Now please dig in.”
Julianus, who’d already eaten, kept them company while enjoying a cup of rich, aromatic coffee and answered questions about life in Repulse. Her ease with the two State Security Commission officers made Torma suspect Park told her about their purpose, which meant she knew where Task Force Kruzenshtern was headed.
However, he mentally shrugged the thought away. A commanding officer who didn’t confide in his deputy wouldn’t gain much trust or loyalty. His own second-in-command knew everything Torma did, and now, he ran the unit under General Robbins’ direct supervision, a good career move, and proof she trusted the man, which in turn meant he was on their side. If there were such a thing as political sides within the Wyvern Hegemony Guards Corps.
Once back in their quarters, Torma asked, “What did you pick up?”
“Curiosity. A lot of it. More than any apprehension at our presence.”
“Isn’t that interesting? We must be losing our touch.”
“I think it’s more because of our unexplained presence under the circumstances, along with Commander Julianus’ hospitality. Both are a clear sign something unusual is afoot.”
“And speaking of Julianus, what about her?”
“What we saw was the real deal.”
“That was my impression as well.” Torma rubbed his chin. “As I said, interesting.”
He dropped into one of the workstation chairs and stretched his long legs.
“Remember, we usually deal with those who have a guilty conscience and fear our presence. Navy personnel who aren’t engaged in subversion are hardly our usual customers.”
Torma let out a bark of laughter.
“We’re all engaged in subversion at the moment. Or it will be so once we leave the Torrinos system and enter interstellar space. But I get your meaning. Being around criminals most of the time warps one’s perception of humanity.”
Before Ardrix could reply, the public address system came to life, startling both of them.
“Now hear this. Transition to hyperspace in five minutes. All hands to jump stations.” They recognized Julianus’ voice even before she repeated the message.
Torma gave Ardrix a crooked grin. “Your first time leaving this universe. I’m interested in how your body will react.”
She grimaced back at him.
“Based on what I’ve read and heard from those who traveled through hyperspace, it likely won’t be pleasant.”
“But it will be mercifully short.”
“How do you perceive it?”
“Similar to a nauseating light show, although I’ve never lost my lunch as a result.”
“I look forward to the experience.”
— 9 —
––––––––
“They crossed the hyperlimit and went FTL for Wormhole Three,” Rear Admiral Godfrey announced the moment Major General Robbins dropped into a chair across from his desk. “In just under eleven hours, they’ll transit to the Torrinos system, an eight-hour run.”
“Any danger of the wormhole fort stopping them?”
“No.” Godfrey shook his head. “Not unless the Regent gets word of Task Force Kruzenshtern’s destination and finds a way to give the fort’s commanding officer orders without going through the regular lines of communication. Even though Vigdis Mandus still wears a Guards uniform and holds the rank of Grand Admiral, she can’t plow her way through the Navy without raising a ruckus, and she knows it. None of the Council members enjoy the idea of Regents reaching deep down into their chains of command. Besides, she wasn’t overly popular as the Navy’s Supreme Commander because she spent too much time playing politics. So I doubt she has that many backchannels who’ll do her bidding without question.”
Robbins chuckled.
“Those elevated to the most senior ranks were rarely popular as three or four stars, Johannes. It comes with being politicians in uniform running roughshod over others in pursuit of promotions and power most of their careers.”
“Which is why you and I won’t go any higher.”
She smirked.
“You flatter me, however I can be as slippery and devious a politician as any flag officer.”
“But not in pursuit of personal gain. Otherwise, you’d be whispering sweet nothings in Vigdis’ shell-like ear before telling her the dastardly Navy
is heading into the galaxy without her permission. That might be good for a third star and command of the Commission’s Wyvern Group.”
“Keep it up, and I’ll open an investigation into your private affairs. Perhaps your effusive praise is a cover for subversive activities.”
This time, Godfrey laughed.
“The only subversive activity I’m pursuing is the same as yours, which means if found out, we will surely hang together.”
“Then I shan’t investigate. How long do you think until someone realizes Task Force Kruzenshtern isn’t actually patrolling the Hegemony sphere?”
Godfrey shrugged.
“Who knows? They’ll be seen by the wormhole fort on the Torrinos end and one of the fueling stations, then they’ll vanish from the sensor grid when they go interstellar using the same route as the smuggler. Officially, they’ve not taken one of the wormholes leading out of Hegemony space, and if anyone asks, Commodore Watanabe is carrying out a stealth patrol to test new tactics. How did Colonel Torma’s people catch that smuggler, by the way?”
“Jan Keter? Torma received an anonymous tipoff. We figure whoever called it in did so out of good old-fashioned greed. Keter held a chunk of the inbound trade goods back from the folks who chartered his ship and looked for buyers on the darknet. They, in turn, probably found out and punished him in the worst way possible by ensuring we’d become involved.”
“Great things are born of minor errors committed by insignificant, greedy little people.”
Robbins cocked an eyebrow at Godfrey.
“Did you just make that up?”
“No. It was uttered by Lexa Mundie, an imperial historian circa eight hundred years ago. She commented on how the empire rose from the Commonwealth’s decaying corpse through a series of relatively small errors born from naked greed. You should look up her works. Some of what she wrote is germane to our current situation, in a slightly twisted, roundabout way, if you consider our dear Hegemony will eventually become a decaying corpse itself unless we change course.”
