She kept hearing Janz Macao’s voice in her mind, saying, “She can’t handle the pressure.”
At first she imagined he was referring to her. As the hours wore on, she became convinced it was Karis. Equally disturbing telepathic and empathetic sensory information came from Kieran. She couldn’t shake the feeling something was desperately wrong.
And speaking of shaking… The discordant vibration she’d been feeling aboard Lancer had stopped…totally and completely.
Why?
Then it hit her. They were all gone. The discordant vibrations were from the men and not the ship?
After two more days, she began to empathetically sense a dramatic shift in Kieran’s emotions. Without the N-link, the impressions were much stronger.
She realized the voice she’d heard was Kieran’s. And when she closed her eyes, she could catch glimpses of him — but as he was years ago, impersonating an ambassador on a mission that had gone all wrong when his Blade Class shuttle crashed at the Capitol City Observatory landing zone. It all flashed through her mind like one of his mind-link memories.
She wondered if he was trying to contact her now, using the telepathic connection? Was it possible? She couldn’t shake the feeling something had gone very wrong; and as a last resort, she decided to act upon her fears.
She bumped Ensign Devon from the computer station and began running a check on the data reports on the Karis. Three reports were on file: Chief McHale’s evaluation of her engineering, Chief Miller’s analysis of the tactical damage caused by Lancer’s weapons, and Dana’s report on the computer circuitry.
Not one of the three had inspected Karis’s wraith device.
Generally speaking, it was not an oversight because regulations didn’t specify checking such a system — regulation vessels of similar class had none. Dana blamed herself for the oversight, not having made a point of investigating personally.
She wondered if — based upon the data she did have and the similarities she’d noted in Karis’s invisibility device to those Star Service had attempted — if she could correlate and determine Karis’ situation?
It was a big job. She’d need help and knew even Lt. Milan was not experienced enough to be of value. Then she remembered Mackenna’s boasting.
She called up his personnel file, looked for and found the credentials she required. He’d get his second chance, all right. It was their only chance.
Commander McHale came on the Bridge just as Dana formulated her plan of action. He stared hard at her then at the command chair she had vacated. A look of disapproval crossed his face, but he said nothing. He took back the con and entered the change in the log, then ignored her.
The thought crossed her mind of telling McHale her fears, but instincts argued, ‘don’t make statements or accusations without the facts to prove them.’
If she and Mackenna found reason to support her fears there would be time enough to advise the Commander.
Mackenna was off duty by the time she reached personnel. His replacement volunteered, “Try the simulator room. He spends a lot of time down there.”
The simulators were expressly designed for officers who did not regularly pull bridge duty, but needed to maintain the regulation number of hours to stay certified.
Dana used simulators herself to keep her shuttle craft flight status current, and to brush up when necessary on landings, tactical and evasive maneuvers.
She found Mackenna hot into a simulated battle between a destroyer and two Imperial Raiders. While watching, Dana became engrossed by the scenario, like none ever attempted though she’d tried them all.
Very near to the final sequence, Mackenna bungled a shot, but the simulator arbitrarily called it a hit and awarded him the victory. He swore at the machine. “Damn! There must be another bug in the code.”
He realized he wasn’t alone when mouthing the last word and froze in place, looking like a criminal caught in the act.
“Did you program that scenario yourself?” Dana demanded.
He nodded.
“That’s why you got busted down to yeoman, isn’t it?”
He nodded again. “I substituted one of my scenarios for one of the regulation ones. Everybody failed it — except me — of course. When my C.O. found out, he blew up.” Mackenna implored, “Please don’t reprimand…”
“On the contrary,” Dana grinned. “I want you to work on a special project for me, creating a scenario just like this. I’ll give you three factual reports; engineering, computers and circuitry, and one variable. I need a simulation of every possible thing that might go wrong.”
He looked elated.
She added the last criteria. “I need it in less than six hours.”
“Huh?”
“All the help and computer time you need,” she assured.
His face lit up like a holiday party. “Point me to a terminal!”
Dana thought about it and decided, “Auxiliary bridge is the best computer station for a project such as this. Come on.”
He doggedly followed as she led the way to the Deck Six station. She bumped aside two ensigns and put Mackenna to work, promising she’d take care of all the necessary authorizations, and then called up the three data reports on Karis alerting him to the additional fact that, “This ship has a wraith invisibility device. Based on the data given: Could a weapons assault cause undetected damage? And, would such damage endanger the crew?”
Mackenna nodded acceptance of the challenge.
Dana patted his shoulder encouragingly. “I’ll be back shortly to help.”
She headed for Starboard-Seven lounge to grab a coffee and eat a quick bite, since she couldn’t remember her last meal and her stomach felt queasy. Her energy levels had dropped substantially and short of having a long nap, a quiet meal would be a pick-me-up.
The room was crowded with lower ranking officers and Dana thought seriously about taking a tray back to her quarters when she spotted Doctor Patel. She was far too hungry and tired to avoid the man. Even Patel’s worst comments wouldn’t get much of a rise out of her now.
He appeared to be finished with his meal and was lingering over his coffee. She nodded in his direction when their eyes met, but sat halfway across the room. He made the first step and came to join her.
Dana noted his sullen expression but, frankly, didn’t care a damn about its cause. He let her finish most of her meal before clearing his throat and offering, “I’m not much at apologies, but I owe you one.”
She rested both elbows on the arms of her chair and her chin on her hands, while blankly staring at him. Since their first meeting in the infirmary, Dana knew he could never be counted upon for support — moral or otherwise.
He appeared uncomfortable and she was quietly glad to see him squirm. He hummed and hawed before she finally insisted, “I’m very busy, Doctor. Would you kindly get to the point?” It sounded rude, but she wasn’t all that concerned.
Patel finally spoke up. “McHale told me about your loss. I’m a collector, too. There’s something about rare books and antiquities.”
She shrugged, finished her coffee and got up, ready to leave him there. He clutched her hand and tugged her back into her chair. “I’ve been a fool, I realize. Thinking back, now, I wish you were on the mission, for Janz’s sake.”
He sounded sincere enough that Dana believed him. She also wondered how much McHale had told him.
“You cannot know how very much I wanted to be on that mission, Doctor.” With that said, Dana took her food tray to the recycle chute.
Patel followed and stepped out into the corridor with her. “If they don’t come back,” he admitted, “I’m going to blame myself.”
“We’ll form a club,” she retorted tiredly. She hoped it wouldn’t come down to that and told him so.
Patel’s features reflected his concern. “If it’s necessary to send a rescue mission, I want to be on it.”
“That would be up to McHale,” she reminded. “The Captain expressly p
rohibited it.”
“Dana?”
His use of her first name stunned her into immobility.
“I’ve known Janz Macao a long time. Most of Lancer’s officers would do anything for him. Believe it. We’d risk anything.”
Dana wondered to what extent Patel meant. Lie? Cheat? Steal? Smuggle? Kill? Betray the Republic? Commit treason?
She drifted away from the Doctor, heading toward the lift intending to join Mackenna in auxiliary control, searching her own heart for answers.
How far will Dana J. Cartwright go for Janz Macao?
The question troubled her. And, even more so: How far will you go for Kieran Jai?
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Dana left the lift, and started down the corridor to the auxiliary bridge when an unfamiliar voice called her name. She turned about and found one of Chief Miller’s specialists, one of the two she’d reprimanded her first day aboard Lancer for jury-rigging the wiring in engineering and hadn’t seen since.
“What can I do for you, Ensign?”
“Mister Cartwright, there’s something I think you should know,” he began, looking down at his boots.
Cartwright stared, already sensing guilt and something more, as he admitted, “It’s about that ship; we jury-rigged the circuitry on Karis. Chief Miller said he did the inspection but…” he trailed off.
“But what, Ensign?” she demanded.
“I know he didn’t.” He looked up, extremely embarrassed but sincere.
Dana’s frown deepened. “Are you accusing your superior officer of falsifying an official inspection report?”
“No, sir, all I’m saying is, Chief Miller never MAT’d over to Karis after the circuitry repairs were made.”
She stared openly. “What’s your name?”
“Landers, Eric…”
“Come with me, Ensign Landers.” She led to the auxiliary bridge, to a free terminal near to where Mackenna busily pounded away, and punched in a request for Miller’s circuitry report and the transfer log.
The system sluggishly responded, flashing the date and time of Miller’s authorization on the viewer screen. Dana searched the transfer log backward from that time and found nothing.
Landers’s statement was correct. Chief Miller had never set foot aboard Karis, though the report indicated he’d personally made the required inspection.
Dana slumped into the chair, overwhelmed by the implications.
The intercom boomed with McHale’s voice. “Auxiliary? What in hell is going on down there? We’re showing a 2000% increase in computer usage.”
Dana heard someone behind her respond, “We’re running a special task, sir.”
McHale snarled, “Who authorized it?”
“Mister Cartwright, sir.”
Dana reached for the nearest COM switch, glancing at Ensign Landers as she spoke. “Commander McHale, I think you’d better come down here.”
She heard McHale groan, and then he must have cut the circuit. She estimated ten minutes.
Mackenna was at the second terminal, so totally absorbed in his project he seemed oblivious to her presence. She envied him and guessed Landers probably did, as well.
“Ensign, you’re dismissed. You needn’t stay. Commander McHale or I will be in touch.”
His relief and gratitude was less than overwhelming, Cartwright thought, as she watched him flee the station. He beat McHale’s arrival by half a minute.
Dana jumped up from the chair the instant McHale stepped inside. He took a cursory look around then stared in her direction. “This better be good.”
“Commander, I believe I have evidence showing that Chief Miller lied on the inspection reports of Karis. And, if my fears are correct, there’s a good chance they may crash when attempting a landing.”
McHale staggered backwards a step, with one fist clenched in rage and the other palm flat against the wall to keep himself steady. “You’re certain? You have proof?”
Cartwright nodded. “I have Mackenna working on a simulation in an attempt to determine what danger actually exists to the mission team.”
“Miller!” McHale muttered. “I’ve known him for years.”
Dana didn’t offer a response.
“Perhaps there’s an explanation…”
She studied McHale. He knew there wasn’t. She actually felt sorry. There is no worse feeling than being betrayed.
“Commander, if it comes down to a rescue mission, I’m on it,” she stated emphatically.
“Of course you are! Damn it, of course you are.” McHale shook his head then exited the control room.
If Mackenna minded her watching over his shoulder, he never let on to Dana. He never yelled for help, never took a break. The coffee she’d fetched went cold, untouched.
His dedication reminded her of DOC Cartwright. When she assisted in surgery, she’d witnessed that same single-mindedness of purpose — devotion to performance — above and beyond the call of duty.
Dana made a mental note of recommending Mackenna for a commendation and a promotion. He’d earned it. She might even suggest that his past ‘indiscretions’ be purged from his file. Star Service Operations frowned upon the practice, but if you had a mentor high enough in the echelon, it could be done.
Daniel Mackenna gave her a Cheshire grin. “It’s all done, Commander. Tested and debugged.” He gloated, happy it was complete. Dana Cartwright couldn’t muster that sort of emotion.
“And the results?”
“She won’t crash,” he announced, “if the pilot can keep her level. However, once down, they’re going nowhere. The stress on the hull will ground her permanently. With that much weight, they have no choice. They’ll be stranded.”
“Weight?” Dana puzzled.
Mackenna nodded.
Cartwright felt somewhat relieved.
“I’ve never flown a ship like her, ma’am,” Mackenna said, “but I’m certain anyone with experience could land her safely.”
She decided that Kieran was a good enough pilot to land Karis. “Weight?” She looked hard at Mackenna.
“All that gear they took,” Mackenna insisted.
Dana shook her head. “It was well within that ship’s limits.”
Mackenna seemed ready to argue.
She cut him off, “What have you flown?”
“F-20’s mostly and a few VIP yachts, everything on simulator I could possibly attempt.”
“That’s not in your record,” she mumbled.
“Before I entered academy,” he mused, “I did a lot of stunt flying. I’d never admit to it because I wasn’t… err, licensed at the time.”
Dana laughed. “Joy riding?”
“Something like that.”
Her spirits lifted. She patted his shoulder. “If I need a copilot, can I count on you?”
He nodded enthusiastically. “Anything to get out of the yeoman pool.”
She sat back to formulate a plan.
He quickly picked up on her thinking. “You’re going after the Captain — a rescue mission — right? Where’s the F-20? A shuttle craft isn’t even close to one.”
“There’s one on the shuttle deck. Trader One - an Alphan Blade-Class shuttle… Manual flight controls only. The autopilot was…” She broke off, worried about revealing too many details. Too late for that now… “The autopilot was sabotaged.”
And wasn’t Chief Miller the officer with access just before? And he had all the necessary knowledge…of course, he did.
Cartwright jumped up from the chair and dashed for the door. “Take a break, Mackenna,” she called. “You’ve earned it.”
Chief McHale had Miller by the throat when Cartwright rushed onto the shuttle deck. She screamed for him to stop and physically tugged on him to pull him away. “McHale!”
Miller sank to his knees, gasping as McHale took a step backward.
Dana, however, didn’t give Miller opportunity to recover before drilling him with questions. “Why did you sabotage the little trader? And
Karis? Why?”
Miller rasped, “I don’t have to answer you!” He was rubbing his neck. “Or him!” He growled at McHale. “Assaulting an officer!”
“You won’t live till your court-martial if you don’t!” She hissed, the stiletto was in her left hand with the blade menacingly pressed against his neck, drawing tiny beads of blood where it touched his skin.
“Don’t,” Miller begged, eyes wide in terror. He tried to squirm away, but McHale had him trapped.
Dana eased off the pressure, but kept the blade where he could see it.
“I did it to cover up.”
“Cover up what?” Dana pressed.
“The smuggling…Gordie, Sam, Ken, Dan and I have…we’ve been dealing contraband. Had to stop the mission before the Captain put an end to it. Or at least delay…”
“Gordie, too?” Her pitch jumped an octave. “Janz trusted him implicitly.”
“The Captain knew,” Miller rasped.
Dana’s hand fell away.
McHale bellowed an anguished, “No!” protesting the news. “Captain Macao couldn’t have known.”
Miller rebutted, “He had to. Gordie was feeding him gems for the life-star in exchange for overlooking our activities.”
Disbelief turned to despair. Dana scowled, “That makes Janz Macao an accessory to the crimes.”
McHale pounded his fist against the side of the little shuttle craft.
“What about Mansfield? Is he in on it, too?” Dana demanded.
“No! Gordie figured you were SSID. He egged Mansfield against you to throw you off the track. Jim’s as straight as they come; too straight to have joined up with us.”
Dana turned to McHale, saw the wounded look upon his face, but could offer him no comfort. She returned the stiletto to its sheath and left the shuttle deck with her eyes downcast, leaving McHale to deal with Miller.
Dana Cartwright Mission 2: Lancer Page 19
