Shadow of Oblivion

by Richard Tongue

  Corrigan paused, turned to her, and said, “Nothing is ever quite what it appears to be, Lieutenant. Nothing. And that is as true in peace as it is in war.” He continued down the corridor, adding, “Have you noticed any thing strange with the systems, anything that might impair combat efficiency?”

  “You mean side from using convicts as crewmen?” she replied. “No, everything is about as expected.” She paused, then asked, “Do you suspect me, or Collins?”

  “Would you, in the circumstances?”

  “Probably. But that doesn’t answer my question.”

  He frowned, nodded, and replied, “It’s all just a little too obvious. If I didn’t know it was impossible, I’d wonder if we had a stowaway on board.” He glanced at her, an eyebrow raised, and asked, “I presume we can rule out that particular possibility.”

  “We’d know. Too many systems would be indicating increased strain on the life support systems by this point, and anyone with that much access to the ship’s internal systems wouldn’t need a laser pistol to kill us all. We’d have been dead before we even made it to Triton.” They stepped into the elevator, and as the doors closed, she added, “Anything on the ship could kill us without too much trouble. The elevators included.”

  “That’s nice and reassuring,” he replied. A moment later, the doors slid open, and the two of them walked towards the detention cells, the screens still in place, cameras sweeping the corridor as they approached. He walked up to the forcefield, and swore under his breath. Both the prisoners were lying prone on the floor, still, terribly still. Moving to his side, Carter glanced at him, then reached to deactivate the security systems.

  “Wait,” he said. “It could be a trap.” Reaching for a communicator, he said, “Collins, this is Corrigan. Are you monitoring the security systems?”

  “I’m watching them now,” she replied.

  Waving his arm, Corrigan asked, “What am I doing right now?”

  “Waving your left arm, sir,” she said.

  “And the prisoners?”

  “They seem to be ignoring you. I’m surprised I can’t hear Martin ranting away in the background. He looks loud enough.”

  “Start a full diagnostic check on all internal sensors.”

  “Is something wrong?”

  “That’s the understatement of the day,” he replied.

  Carter snatched a medical kit from the wall, turned to Corrigan, and said, “They might still be alive, and if you wanted the answers to your questions, they’re the only one who might be able to give them to us. I’ll go in, and you can keep me covered. Worst case, Collins can handle the engineering systems on her own.” Corrigan paused, and she pressed, “Commander…”

  “Cycling screens. Get in there quickly.”

  She nodded, and as the forcefield went down, she sprinted across the threshold, immediately racing to Clayton, placing medical sensors on her forehead and chest. Her scanner began to register life signs, weak, but stable. A quick check revealed the same of Martin. Weak, but stable.

  “Drugged?” Corrigan asked.

  “Probably,” she replied. “Medical scanner can’t identify the drug used, though. It’s nothing in the ship’s pharmacopeia.” She looked at the readouts, shook her head, and said, “I could try a stimulant, but we really need to get them down to Sickbay. The autodoc might be able to do something for them. This is way beyond the First Aid courses I took at the Academy.”

  “Call a robogurney,” he said. “I want you…” Before he could say anything else, the lights went out, and he continued, “What the hell?”

  “No idea,” Carter replied, waving a hand experimentally where the forcefield had been, wincing as it past through the barrier but encountering no sign of trouble. She tentatively stepped over the threshold, and added, “Auxiliary power should have come on automatically.”

  “Listen,” Corrigan said. “There’s no noise. Nothing. That means the lifesystem has been shut down as well. That’s a redundant system.”

  Nodding, Carter said, “Somebody has locked out the entire network. Everything.” Reaching for her communicator, she shook her head, and said, “There’s no signal. Not even the navigation beacon. Commander, we’re dead. If someone has managed to do this much…”

  “Anything that has been done can be undone,” he replied. “And quickly, before our friends out there spot that something’s wrong and decide to investigate. You know this ship a lot better than I do. Head up to the bridge, assume command, and see what you can do to bring all the primary systems back online. That’s your top priority. I’m going down to Engineering to attempt the same thing. With a little luck, one of us should be able to get things moving again.”

  “Sir, haven’t you got our destinations mixed up?”

  “No, I don’t,” he replied. “Engineering is precisely where our saboteur would expect us to go. You’ve got the experience and skill to get this ship working again, and command her in battle if you must. I’ll act as a decoy, and see if I can attract the attention of whoever is moving around down here.”

  “What about the prisoners?”

  “You said it yourself. Stable. They can wait. There’s nothing we can do for them until we get the primary systems back up, anyway.” He paused, then said, “This isn’t a conversation, Lieutenant. Get moving. Fast.”

  Chapter 16

  Maddox looked up at Moreau walked into her office, gesturing at her clutter-laden desk, and saying, “Can you see it, Lieutenant?”

  “I don’t see anything, ma’am,” he replied. “Just the usual paperwork and administrative reports related to your assignment. I have another batch for you here, the latest reports from engineering on damage control contingency requirements. They require your immediate attention.”

  Taking a deep breath, she said, “That, Lieutenant, is precisely my point. Damage control contingency requirement reports? I’m supposed to be commanding a battlecruiser squadron, but I have yet to receive any of the relevant tactical information. Plenty of minor bits of administrative trivia, but nothing more than that. The flag bridge might as well be a planetarium for the influence it gives me over the squadron, and I haven’t been able to see either Admiral Alvarez or Captain Wells since I came on board. Or, for that matter, Major Rojek.”

  Nodding, her aide said, “I thought Commander Hunter gave you a tour of the ship when we arrived…”

  “He’s about the only officer who has deigned to acknowledge my existence,” she said. “I’m beginning to feel like a prisoner on my own ship, Lieutenant. Have you noticed anything strange?”

  Moreau paused, nodded, then said, “My assistant seems somewhat less than qualified for her work, ma’am. I’ve had to call her up on a series of fairly fundamental errors. Her record suggests that she has three years’ service on the staff of a squadron commander. I wouldn’t expect such trivial mistakes from someone with a record such as that.”

  “She’s a spy,” Maddox said, bluntly. “Reporting right back to Alvarez.”

  “That seems a reasonable assessment,” Moreau said, sitting opposite her, folding his hands together. “The next question is the most important, ma’am. What do you intend to do about it?”

  “That, Lieutenant, is the question.” She paused, sighed, then said, “This isn’t as simple as one officer being sidelined. God knows I wouldn’t be the first commander an Admiral pushed out of the way to steal the glory. If it was just that, then I’d probably just sit back and let it happen, at least until we get back to Earth. Maybe something could be worked out then. A transfer, at the very least.” She paused, then said, “Except that there’s too much going on here. A secret mission, top-secret, that nevertheless requires a scapegoat to be brought along for the ride? Why brief me at all?”

  “Maybe you weren’t,” Moreau said. “Not completely.”

  “I’d be astonished if I was.” She nodded, then said, “Rojek is the key to all of this. Aside from Alvarez, he’s been in this since it started, and if anyone knows the whole p
icture, he does.”

  “You think he’ll talk?”

  “Not willingly,” she replied. “Not willingly. But if we can approach him the right way, we just might be able to convince him.” She paused, then asked, “Where is he? I mean, he is my senior aide, so he probably ought to be somewhere close at hand.”

  “Why not just page him?” he asked.

  Shaking her head, he said, “Too easy. Much too easy. He’ll come strolling in here like a million credits and act as though the ship was his personal plaything. The curse of it is that he might not be wrong about that.”

  Moreau paused, then said, “Commodore, I must at this point suggest that if this is some sort of deep-cover intelligence operation, then there might be a very good reason why both of us have been kept out of the loop. They also serve…”

  “Who only stand and wait,” she interrupted. “I get it, Lieutenant, I do, but to be blunt, I have no confidence in a plan so flimsy that it can’t stand up to any scrutiny at all. We’re at warp. There’s no way for anyone to send any messages now, no way for anyone to even think about betraying whatever crazy plan Alvarez and Rojek have come up with. It’s time to talk.”

  Looking at his tablet, Moreau said, “Best guess is that he’ll be down on the sensor decks. He seems to have been spending a lot of time poking around down there, though I’m not sure why.”

  “Then let’s go,” Maddox replied, walking to the door, setting a pace rapid enough that Moreau struggled to keep up. The Marine guard standing outside her office snapped to attention as she left, and she paused, glared at him, and said, “If anyone asks, Corporal, I’m still in there. Got it?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he replied. “Surprise inspection?”

  “Something like that,” she said. “As you were.” She walked into the elevator, the doors sliding shut almost before Moreau could join her inside, and punched the controls for the sensor decks, the lowest level on the ship. Those decks were always quiet, few technicians picking their way through the crawlways and ducts, deliberately limited in order to prevent too much interference with the sensor systems. One dropped sonic spanner could send the false signal of an enemy battle fleet up on the bridge.

  The doors slid open, and she stepped out, walking down the corridor, spotting her prey standing by an open maintenance hatch with Ensign Veronica Vaughn, Moreau’s assistant.

  “Major,” Maddox said. “What a strange place to find you.”

  “Commodore,” Rojek replied. “I’m afraid you’ve caught the two of us at a disadvantage. We were both off-duty, and going for a little walk. It’s quiet down here, and private. If there is something you need…”

  “What I need, Major, is a full and complete briefing on our mission and the current tactical and strategic situation, and my need for that is somewhat urgent. I’m getting a little tired of sitting in my office and wading through a backlog of paperwork while Admiral Alvarez and Captain Wells keep me in the dark.” Taking a step forward, she said, “You will tell me what I want to know, and you will tell me now, and you may consider that to be a direct order!”

  Shaking his head, Rojek replied, “I’m afraid that I am working under other orders, Commodore, from a higher authority. I’m not at liberty to tell you what you want to know. I suggest you ask Admiral Alvarez. If it helps, I would very much prefer to have your briefed, but that is not my decision to make, nor is it yours.”

  “Major, as squadron commander, I have considerable latitude. My former position at Gateway Station also provided me with top security clearance. A matter of necessity given the projects we were working on. Therefore I will ask you again, and one more time, to provide me with the information I need. What is our mission?”

  “We’re heading to Sigma Draconis to hunt down an enemy attack force of two or three cruisers, with the intention of determining the condition of these ships under combat conditions. The expectation is for an easy victory for the purposes of morale, and to return our forces to interstellar space to engage the Belt.” Glancing at Vaughn, he added, “That’s all I can tell you, ma’am.”

  “What about you, Ensign?” Maddox asked, turning on the younger officer. “Feel like bringing your career to an abrupt end before it’s even begun?” Looking at the two of them she said, “Just what are you hiding? What sort of secret is so terrible that it has to be concealed from your commanding officer at all cost?”

  “It isn’t being concealed from their commanding officer,” Alvarez said, walking down the corridor. “Because that would be me.”

  “Admiral…” Maddox began.

  “Major, Lieutenant, Ensign, please leave at once,” Alvarez ordered. Moreau and Vaughn hastened from the corridor, but Rojek shook his head.

  “I think I’d better stay, Admiral.”

  “I don’t have anything to fear from Commodore Maddox.”

  “Not my meaning, ma’am. I think this conversation might need to be on the record, for the sake of all involved.”

  “Perhaps, Major, perhaps,” she replied. “Nevertheless, while I admit that you might have a point, I think it best that the Commodore and I speak on a more private, intimate basis at this time.”

  “As you wish, Admiral,” Rojek said, saluting her before following the others into the elevator. Maddox looked after him, shook her head, then turned back to Alvarez.

  “Another motivational speech, ma’am?” Maddox asked. “I’m going to have to warn you here and now that I have every intention of reporting your conduct on this mission to higher authority when we return. As well as bring Captain Wells up on formal charges for insubordination.”

  “I’ll have a word with her,” Alvarez began.

  Shaking her head again, Maddox replied, “That is far from good enough, ma’am. Either you have discipline, or you do not. It’s really as simple as that. This squadron does not. Not in my judgment, and whilst I know that there are a lot of people who might question that judgment, I somehow don’t believe that the Inspector-General will be one of them.”

  Alvarez flashed a smile, then said, “Your words and tone lay you open to similar charges yourself, Commodore. I presume you are not unaware of that fact. I can appreciate your frustration with the current situation. I’d feel the same way myself under the circumstances, but you have to understand that there are certain sensitive aspects of the mission that do not permit me to provide you with the information you are asking for. I am sorry.”

  “Then why the hell am I even here?” Maddox asked. “If you don’t want me to command the squadron, why did you bring me along for the ride in the first place?” Taking a step forward, she said, “Was this to keep me quiet over the circumstances related to the disappearance of Avenger? A simple order would have sufficed, Admiral. You didn’t have to go to these extremes.”

  “That was not it at all, Commodore, though I admit that your knowledge of that element of our mission was valuable. You are here because you have skills that I will find useful when we reach our destination, skills vital to the accomplishment of my mission. You have time to familiarize yourself with the squadron in preparation for assuming full command.”

  “What skills are they?”

  Folding her arms, Alvarez asked, “Suppose you go ahead and guess.”

  “Avenger isn’t just a lightning rod. She’s the bait. You’re hoping to lure in a significant task force, perhaps some key personnel, and smoke out enemy agents. You’ve turned over enough information to the Belt to set a trap for them, to bring them into a position where you can engage them at your advantage. You need me because I know the ship, and because my previous role has granted me an element of familiarity with the Belters involved in ship design and construction.”

  “Not bad, Commodore. You should have considered a career with Fleet Intelligence. You have the right sort of devious mind for the job.”

  “To hell with the complements, Admiral. Am I right?”

  “You should know better than to ask by now, Commodore. Do you honestly expect me to either confi
rm or deny your suspicions? You know that I cannot do that.” She paused, then said, “Though it is a pity. A great pity.” Looking at her watch, Alvarez added, “We’re going to be reaching our destination in about an hour. I have issued instructions that the squadron will go to battle stations in forty-five minutes. You will assume tactical control of the formation from the flag bridge at that time, with Major Rojek and Lieutenant Moreau in attendance. I strongly urge you to listen to Rojek’s advice. He’s an experienced, veteran officer with, shall we say, an unusual view of warfare.”

  “In short, do what Rojek says, and watch while you and Wells run the actual battle from the flight deck.”

  “You’re guessing again,” Alvarez said. “Are you really that confident in your abilities, that you think you’re better than a four-star Admiral?”

  “It’s a question of trust, not confidence, ma’am, and with all due respect, you haven’t given me any reason at all to trust you. I suspect that you would be the first to admit that.”

  “I’ll concede it. I’ll even concede that authority is not merely derived from rank, but is, at least to a degree, earned. Nevertheless, we are in a state of war, and I simply do not have the luxury of ticking off every box. I think you’ll find that I have arranged things rather well, and that we have all the opportunities in the galaxy to win an overwhelming victory against our enemies when we arrive at Sigma Draconis.”

  “Admiral, if you think this is about ego, it isn’t. This is about getting the job done. And that is not served well by hiding key information from critical subordinate officers. One hit on the flight deck…”

  “And you will obtain the command you so bitterly seek,” Alvarez interrupted. “In that event, I have every confidence that you will perform as I would wish. I have faith in you. Even if you do not have faith in yourself. All I ask is that you have faith in me.”

  “That’s a lot to ask, Admiral.”

  “Then consider it an order, Commodore. While I hold the rank, we do things my way. Remember that. And they also serve, who only stand and wait. Remember that as well.”