The Exxar Chronicles: Book 02 - Emissary

by Neal Jones

  He had an hour before staff briefing, and he decided to spend it in his office. He nodded to the gamma shift staff as he crossed the command deck, and once he was safely in his office, he sank into his desk chair and leaned back, closing his eyes. He reviewed last night's conversation with Laura, still unable to believe that all of this was real. If he thought hard enough, he could convince himself that the whole conversation had been some kind of bizarre illusion, a nightmare brought on by his heavy drinking and lack of sleep. Yes, Laura was on Exxar-One, but she hadn't visited him last night. He'd had dinner alone, drank an entire bottle of Crown Royal, and gone to bed alone.

  Marc sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face, rubbing at his bleary eyes. He could almost convince himself, but he knew better. He had a daughter. Her name was Jeanette. He remembered a little of the home video footage that he'd watched as he drank. And as much as he wanted to stop thinking about Laura, there were too many memories of their past crowding his conscious mind, like too many uninvited guests at a party that shouldn't have been thrown in the first place.

  The commodore sighed again and forced his attention on the day's schedule. The first item on his list was the topics being covered at the staff briefing. Attached with Commander Garrett's update regarding the work on the hypergate was a note that stated that Doctor Sysko would be present at the briefing to deliver her analysis of the work completed thus far, as well as a projected schedule of the work that would take place over the next several weeks.

  Marc wondered if there was enough time to crawl under his desk and take a long nap.

  ( 3 )

  "There she is, Marky Boy."

  That's Bridger's nickname for Cadet Second Class Marcus Gabriel. Cadet Second Class Anthony Bridger is one of those cocky, overbearing, opinionated types whose physique matches his ego. He's on the academy gravball squad, first string, and he never hesitates to use this as a selling point to the opposite sex - especially in an off-campus bar like this one. It's Friday night, and the place is packed. Marc tries to remember the name again, but it escapes him, and Cadet Third Class Wilkes is returning to the table with three beers. Marc hasn't yet finished his second one.

  "Who?" Wilkes asks, arriving just in time to hear Bridger's comment.

  "The only one that's turned him down before he can launch his sales pitch," Gabriel answers.

  Bridger scowls at him. "Drink your beer. You're getting behind."

  Wilkes snickers. "Just can't handle rejection, can you, Teddy?"

  "Call me that again. See what happens."

  "Ooh, so threatening. I'm so scared."

  Bridger makes like he's going to lunge across the table, and Wilkes flinches, spilling some of his beer when his hand jerks.

  "Knock it off, Tony." Gabriel has finished his second beer and he reaches for the one that Wilkes brought him.

  "She's just taking her time," Bridger says, and then takes a long pull from his glass. "Girls can't get enough of a man in uniform. Especially one who's champion of the gravball squad."

  Gabriel just shakes his head and keeps silent. Guys like Bridger are such a cliché. He sneaks a glance at the corner table again, wanting a closer look at the woman who dares to spurn Bridger. Anyone who can hold their own like that deserves a second glance.

  "What's her name again?" Wilkes asks. He's taking little sips of his beer, and it's obvious that he hates the stuff but wants to fit in.

  "Laura. I don't know her last name."

  "Have you ever stayed around long enough to learn a last name?" Gabriel teases.

  "Don't need to." Bridger winks and takes another long gulp of his stein. The glass is almost empty.

  "You should go talk to her, Marc," Wilkes says.

  "Yeah, Marky Boy, that's a good idea!"

  "No, I don't think so." Marc's not like his brother Jason. Jason and Bridger would have a lot in common. Marc has no trouble debating tactical strategies and military history with his professors – even as a nineteen year old sophomore cadet – but when it comes to asking a girl in a bar for her comm number, he's terrified.

  "If you go over there, Bridger will stop calling you Marky Boy. Won't ya, Teddy?"

  "Sure, why not? I can come up with a dozen other nicknames that would fit you."

  Wilkes just shakes his head. "Go buy her a drink. The worst she could do is turn you down, and you'll be no worse off than Full."

  "Oh thanks, that's inspiring." Gabriel looks in Laura's direction again. Like him, she has a pair of friends, and the three girls – they can't be any older than Marc and his buddies – are giggling about something, and then Laura turns her gaze in his direction, as if she knows empathically that he's looking. He quickly drops his gaze to his beer, his face growing hot, and Wilkes snickers.

  "Too late, Marc. She saw you, and she's still looking at us. Now she's saying something to her friends, and they're laughing again, and she's looking this way. She's pretty cute. Her friends are cute too."

  "Stop narrating," Gabriel interrupts. "Let's get out of here." He downs the last of his beer in one gulp.

  "Forget it." Bridger is eyeing a female cadet two tables over. "You two shitheads do what you want, but I'm changing seats." He motions for the waitress to bring him another beer as he walks to the cadet's table.

  "What an asshole," Wilkes remarks, shaking his head and taking another sip of his beer.

  Gabriel looks at Laura, but it's hard to read her expression from this distance. She's sipping her mixed drink, daintily grasping the straw, and she's watching him. "All right, I'll do it." He's not sure if it's the three beers or Bridger's teasing, but he feels a sudden rush of adrenaline, and he's already out of his seat and crossing the room.

  As he nears her table, Laura's two girlfriends stop their conversation and all three look up expectantly.

  "Hi," is all Cadet Gabriel can think of to say. He suddenly feels stupid and embarrassed.

  "Hi," Laura says. She sips on her straw, sucking up the last of her drink and the air rushing about the ice cubes makes a noise like static.

  Gabriel doesn't get the hint. "How are you?"

  "I'm fine."

  "I – I'm Marcus Gabriel. Cadet second class."

  "Yes, I could see the rank on your collar. You look very spiffy in your uniform."

  Laura's friends are smiling pleasantly and trying not to giggle. Again, Laura sucks on her straw, grabbing the last few droplets of juice and vodka from the bottom of her empty glass. She even taps the tumbler with a couple fingers so the ice cubes rattle.

  Marc is still oblivious. "So...you come here often?

  "Occasionally."

  "Hey, buddy, let me speed this along or we'll be here all night." The girl next to Laura holds out her hand. "I'm Stephanie."

  Marc shakes it. "Nice to meet you."

  "Why don't you buy us all a round and have a seat."

  "Sure! Sure, yeah, that sounds good." Marc turns to head for the bar, but he almost collides with Wilkes. The cadet has three mixed drinks and two beers in his hands. He manages to set them on the table without spilling.

  "Hello, ladies. Sorry it took so long." He takes the chair next to the girl who's sitting next to Stephanie. "I'm Andrew."

  "Maricella. Nice to meet you."

  Stephanie rises. "You can have my chair, Marc. I need to get back to the dorms. Early class tomorrow."

  Marc almost trips over the chair legs as he sits, and he forces out a nervous laugh to cover his awkwardness. Wilkes and Maricella have already launched their own conversation, and Marc turns to Laura.

  "Are you from around here?"

  "Cornell. I'm studying computer science. I just received my undergraduate degree, and I'm starting the master's program next month."

  "Oh wow. Congratulations!"

  "So you're a second year cadet, huh?"

  "Yep. Command track. My father's a captain."

  "Oh really? What ship?"

  "The Tolkien."

  The conversation moves swiftly and easily, like
a schooner navigating gentle waters. Marc becomes more relaxed as he talks, and he regales Laura with anecdotes of his courses at the academy and military history. Not all of it is exciting to her, but she's patient, and she likes the flush of boyish enthusiasm that creeps into his expression as he babbles almost ceaselessly. Only when he reaches for his beer can she get a question or two in, and she doesn't mind that he hasn't yet asked her for details about herself or her classes.

  The bar is closing. Two hours have passed. Wilkes and Maricella have already left, and Marc knows how to be a gentleman. He pays the tab and walks Laura to the closest transport kiosk, which is just three blocks away. It's a clear, clammy August night, and Marc is suddenly nervous again.

  "Well, here we are." Now he realizes he probably talked too much about himself, but it's too late to ask Laura for her biography.

  "It was nice to meet you Cadet Gabriel. I had a good time." She extends her hand.

  Marc shakes it. He wants to ask her if he'll be seeing her again, but she says goodnight and then enters the kiosk. The operator programs the destination into his control panel, and the cardon field appears. Laura crosses a few hundred miles in a few steps, leaving New Annapolis and returning to Ithaca, New York. The field disappears, and Marc walks back to the Naval Academy campus alone.

  The whole evening seems a little surreal, like a movie played in fast forward and then suddenly, abruptly stopped.

  "Laura," he murmurs.

  It's only now that he realizes he never asked her for her last name.

  ( 4 )

  When Commodore Gabriel entered the wardroom, he was pleased to see that most of his staff was already present, but Laura had yet to arrive. Garrett was delivering the punch line of a joke, and Navarr giggled in a most unprofessional manner. She choked back the laughter when she saw who had just entered, and Gabriel smiled.

  "I've heard that one before. Except it was the Orethian priest who mistook the prostitute for the acolyte."

  "No, no," Decev chimed in. "It's a Zebanite monk, and the girl mistakes one of his tentacles for his you-know-what."

  All four looked at Varis, the only other one present, seated at her usual place at the far end of the table. She glanced up from her compad. "No comment."

  Saveck, Ilkara and Rosenberg walked in, and Navarr asked Garrett to repeat the joke. Just as he was getting to the punch line, Lieutenant Sikandra and Doctor Sysko entered, and Gabriel felt his palms become suddenly moist. Laura sat at the opposite end of the table from him, next to Varis. She glanced at Marc, nodded, and then turned her full attention to her compad. As soon as everyone was settled, the commodore rapped his knuckles on the tabletop to get his staff's attention.

  "Morning, everybody. Doctor Sysko is from the FCE, and she will be assisting Commander Garrett's people in their analysis of the hypergate. Let's start with your report, doctor."

  "Thank you, commodore." She stood and activated the holo-display. A schematic of the hypergate hovered above the surface of the table. "I haven't yet fully reviewed Commander Garrett's reports, but from what I've looked at so far I'd say that he and his teams have done a remarkable job with their analyses of the hypergate's technology." She looked at the engineer. "The fact that you've already networked it to the station's mainframe is a feat that I wouldn't have expected from you in such a short amount of time."

  "Ilkara deserves the thanks," Garrett replied, blushing a little. He was unaccustomed to such public praise. "If it hadn't been for her, we would still be at square one."

  "It was fairly simple once I became familiar with your technology," the Erayan replied. "And now that I'm out of quarantine, the work will proceed much faster."

  Sysko nodded. "As I understand from my reading, the current problem is that you're unable to access the other gateways in the network."

  "That's correct," Garrett replied, addressing the rest of the staff as well. "We've run into several security protocols in the gateway's mainframe that are preventing us from accessing several parts of the core network. Those sections are locked behind firewalls, and we don't have the correct access codes, nor have we had any luck using our standard decryption programs."

  "That's where I come in." Laura tapped a command into her compad, and the holo-display changed to show a software interface that was covered with lines of computer code. It resembled an endless, complicated mathematical flow chart. The doctor typed in a second command, and specific nodes of the interface became highlighted. "What you're seeing is a representation of the central command pathways of the hypergate's core mainframe. The nodes I've highlighted contain the security protocols that are blocking our access to the primary network. I'll spare you the rest of the technical jargon. Suffice to say that this operational software is as advanced at the technology it's controlling, and we've got at least another month of work ahead of us."

  "I don't understand," Decev interrupted. "Ilkara, do you not have the access codes?"

  The Erayan grimaced, shaking he/r head. "The primary reason for my creation and for being put into cryo-stasis was to safeguard my people's history. In the last days of our empire, it was believed by the Conclave of Authority – that's the name of the body of governors who ruled the empire – that I and the others like me should not have access to the entire hypergate network. They didn't want whoever awakened me to gain access to that network. The Jha'Drok Emperium, for example. Look what they were able to accomplish with their discovery of just one planetary outpost and the starbase that once orbited it. Imagine if they had access to the entire network."

  "We don't know for certain that they don't," Gabriel replied. "I haven't yet received an update from Admiral Hazen regarding the data that we supplied FCI three months ago regarding the Jha'Drok assault legion." He glanced at Laura, nodding for her to continue.

  "Actually, that's all I have at this time. I'd like a couple of days to brainstorm some strategies with my team and with Commander Garrett's engineers, and then I'll deliver another briefing to let you know what we've come up with."

  "Good enough," the commodore replied. "It's probably just as well at this point that we don't have access to more than one gateway. Captain McKenna and her crew have their hands full with the few systems that are surrounding Gateway Prime. I'm expecting her next batch of reports in a couple days. Thank you, doctor."

  Laura nodded, deactivating the holo-display as she sat.

  "Now, before we proceed to the next item on our agenda, there's another issue I need to address. Ilkara, the brass at Federation Medical are not pleased that we kept your presence here a secret, especially for this long. Admiral Hazen informed me yesterday that tomorrow morning there will be a holo-conference. You, Doctor Rosenberg and I are required to be present, and we're holding the meeting here in the wardroom after staff briefing. We'll be speaking with Vice Admiral Drumhold." Gabriel glanced at his CMO. "Doctor, please have all your research notes in order."

  "Yes, sir."

  The rest of the meeting proceeded as scheduled, and when it was over, Gabriel requested Varis to stay behind. As soon as the rest of the staff was gone, he instructed the computer to enact level one security protocols for the wardroom. The doors locked and an anti-surveillance program came on line.

  Varis was intrigued. For the last three months, she had kept to herself, filing her weekly reports with Agent Connor, though there hadn't been much to report. Since she was a member of the senior staff, she was required to attend the daily briefings, but she'd kept few notes because most of the topics involved station operations and the minutia of day to day business that was necessary to keep a starbase of this size up and running.

  Gabriel stood and walked to a chair opposite Varis, but he didn't sit. He leaned forward against the backrest and folded his arms. "What I'm about to tell you stays in this room. Please do not report this to FCI." It was a request, not a direct order. Because she was an FCI operative, Gabriel had no military authority over Varis, thus he could not order her to keep this briefing to herself. "Immed
iately after the attack three months ago by Colonel Serehl's fleet, a Jha'Drok senator named Jolan Nejra arrived here with his wife. They requested asylum and Major Saveck granted it to them. I agreed with his decision, and they have been living on the station ever since. This information has so far been limited to Captain McKenna and her senior staff, myself, Major Saveck, a squad of Navarr's officers…and now you."

  Varis nodded but remained silent, waiting for Gabriel to continue.

  "When I spoke with Hazen yesterday, he told me that CMC wants more information on the Jha'Drok hypergate. From what Nejra told us about the assault legion that he sabotaged, it's possible that the Jha'Drok engineers found a way to connect to the other Erayan hypergates, not just Gateway Prime. I want you to gather a team, preferably the same personnel you took last time, and go back into Jha'Drok space. You're going to take Nejra with you."

  Varis was typing notes into her compad. "Anything else?"

  Gabriel blinked, caught off guard once again by her lack of surprise. Nothing seemed to faze the SO officer, and the commodore wondered for just a moment if she had already known about Jolan and his wife. "No. But I'd like you to be with me when I discuss this with Jolan this afternoon. Fourteen hundred hours. 67C, section 157, DS-6."

  Varis shut off her compad and stood. "I'll see you then."

  Gabriel watched her leave, and he wondered yet again just how much he could trust the brantar. But he'd had no choice when it came to this mission. Because of her access to resources within FCI, she was the only one who could get in and out of the Jha'Drok territories undetected. But that begged the question of why Hazen was using Gabriel and his crew for another mission of this nature. Why wasn't something like this being handled by FCI?