by G J Ogden
“Stay with her, and keep her under guard until we’re sure she’s clean,” Sterling said to Shade, as he stumbled toward the hatch. “Commander Banks will handle the weapons control station until you return.”
“Aye, Captain,” Shade replied, briskly.
Ordinarily, he would expect that an order denying Shade the opportunity to kill the enemy would generate a measure of discontent. However, it was clear that Shade considered their unconscious engineer to be a potentially greater threat at that moment in time. As usual, her judgement was sound. The Invictus could handle three old destroyers, but if their chief engineer was turned and retained her knowledge and access of the ship’s systems, one rogue operative reaching the engineering level could wreak far more havoc than three aging alien warships.
Sterling jumped out onto the deck of the docking section and raced toward the main elevator, with Banks hot on his heels. He could feel the inertial negation systems working on overdrive to counteract the effect of the Marauder’s high-energy maneuvers, and he could feel from the rattle through the deck plating and thrum of the engines that the ship was being pushed hard. A tremor ran through the deck as the elevator doors opened and Sterling ran inside. He recognized it at once as the result of their forward plasma railguns firing a full spread. A series of thumps then pounded the Invictus’ hull. However, Sterling knew that these weren’t the result of incoming fire, but from incoming debris.
“Graves has already got one,” said Banks. She could feel the ship just as keenly as Sterling could. “Hopefully, he'll leave some for us.”
Sterling loved how Banks could sometimes steal the thoughts from his mind, even when they weren’t connected through a neural link.
The elevator doors swung open onto deck one and Sterling raced outside. “I take it you remember how to fire our plasma guns?” he said, smiling back at his first officer.
“Just watch me,” replied Banks, picking up the pace and catching up with her captain.
The door to the bridge swished open and Sterling’s ears were assaulted by the sound of consoles bleeping, weapons firing and plasma blasts thudding into their regenerative armor.
“Captain on the bridge,” Commander Graves called out, immediately giving way to Sterling.
“Razor is en route to the med bay,” Sterling said, jumping onto the command platform. “Lieutenant Shade has her under guard.”
“Understood, Captain, I shall prepare my butcher’s knives,” Graves replied, immediately setting off toward the exit.
Sterling almost called out to the doctor to reinforce the notion that he wanted Razor kept alive, but a blast from one of the two remaining destroyers focused his attention on more pressing matters.
“Time to impress me once again, Ensign Keller,” Sterling called out to his helmsman, while Banks relieved the crewmember at the weapons control station.
“Aye, Captain,” Keller replied, briskly. “Good to have you back, sir.”
A wide grin appeared on Banks’ face and she glanced at Sterling, eyebrow raised. However, despite her bravado and tough-talking, Sterling knew that his first officer found their helmsman to be endearing too.
Keller drove the Invictus in pursuit of one of the alien destroyers, embarrassing the Sa’Nerran vessel with the Marauder’s superior agility and speed. Banks waited until the glow of the destroyer’s engines almost filled the viewscreen, then unleashed a full spread from the forward plasma rail guns. The blasts tore through the older alien warship like a tank shell smashing through an old garden shed. A series of hard thuds rocked the deck and Sterling saw that their aft armor had taken a pounding. The remaining Sa’Nerran destroyer was directly on their tail. Unlike the Wasp, which had chosen to flee, this warship was not about to turn and run. Sterling respected its choice to stand and fight. Perhaps the alien commander believed it had a chance, Sterling wondered. Or perhaps it was too prideful or stubborn to back down. The outcome would be the same, either way.
“Ensign, hold your course and initiate a full-power y-axis turn,” Sterling called out to the pilot. “Let’s end this the old-fashioned way. A duel, face-to-face.”
“Aye, sir,” Keller replied. Sterling could sense the excitement in his voice. The young officer was learning to control his anxieties and live in the moment. Sterling glanced across to Banks, and saw she was ready. The fire was back in her eyes.
Sterling grabbed the side of the captain’s console then felt the kick of the ship’s thrusters. The starfield outside the viewscreen became a blur and moments later they were staring down the throat of the Sa’Nerran Destroyer.
“Fire,” ordered Sterling, gripping the sides of his console more tightly.
The flash of plasma lit up the viewscreen as both vessels attacked. Sterling felt the impacts of the blasts land on the Invictus, but their regenerative armor soaked up the energy. The destroyer, however, was reduced to a burning cloud of wreckage.
Sterling glanced down at the scanner readout and saw that no other Sa’Nerran ships were in range. They’d found a back door into the alien’s territory and with the Sa’Nerran armada engaged in Fleet space, there was barely anyone home.
“Do you have our next waypoint, Ensign Keller?” Sterling asked, glancing up at his helmsman.
“Aye, sir,” Keller replied. “Long-range scanners have detected an aperture. Based on the data retrieved from the Sa’Nerran cruiser, that’s where Colicos went.”
“Then set a course, Ensign, and take us there at maximum acceleration,” Sterling replied.
The helmsman acknowledged the order as Sterling pushed himself away from his console and drew in a long, calming breath. His heart was still pounding in his chest from the adrenalin and excitement, but for now, at least, they were in the clear.
“We have a few hours until we reach the aperture,” said Banks, who had moved back over to her own console beside Sterling’s. “Repairs are under way, but we’re still in good shape.”
Sterling nodded, then glanced to the rear of the bridge, where Lieutenant Razor would normally be.
“Let’s check on our patient,” he said, meeting Banks’ eyes. “The last thing we need right now is to surge deeper into enemy space without a chief engineer.”
Chapter 22
The prognosis
Sterling and Banks walked into the medical bay to see Lieutenant Shade standing guard over the Invictus’ chief engineer. Razor lay unconscious in one of the surgical beds. Shade’s pistol was holstered, but her hand remained on the grip. Commander Graves, as usual, appeared less concerned, and was across the other side of the room, peering down into the eyepiece of a microscope.
“What’s the prognosis, Commander?” asked Sterling. He nodded to Shade, who took two steps back to make room for himself and Commander Banks. However, the weapons officer still did not remove her hand from the grip of her pistol.
“Lieutenant Razor has not yet turned,” Commander Graves replied, without looking up from the instrument. “That is all I can tell you at this moment.”
“Not yet suggests that she still might,” Sterling replied, wary that his medical officer’s response might come with a caveat.
Graves picked up a medical implement that Sterling had never seen before and removed a computer chip about the size of a matchstick from the tray beneath the microscope. He finally looked up and met Sterling’s eyes.
“The truth, Captain, is that I do not know what will happen to her,” Graves admitted, moving over to the side of the bed where Razor was lying. “Currently, Lieutenant Razor is stable and her brain shows no evidence of alteration. However, a detailed analysis of her neural interface suggests that there is some low-level corruption.”
Sterling cursed under his breath. Graves was being cagey about the seriousness of his engineer’s situation, but it still wasn’t the news he was hoping for. Commander Graves then held up the medical device that he’d picked up from the tray of the microscope.
“The corruption is currently restricted to a small section o
f the neural device, but my analysis shows that it is spreading slowly,” Graves continued. He turned the engineer’s head to the side and delicately placed the device in his hand across Razor’s neural implant. “This chip will disable the Lieutenant’s implant. It may be dangerous for others to link to it at this stage.” The matchstick-sized chip then appeared to melt into Razor’s implant, like butter melting into hot toast. “It will also alert us, via the ship’s computer, if the corruption reaches the point at which it begins to affect her brain. A paralyzing shock will then temporarily incapacitate the Lieutenant, but only for a couple of minutes at most.” Graves placed the medical tool in a tray next to the bed, then gave Sterling a look that he’d seen dozens of times before. It was the look of a doctor who was about to give a terminal diagnosis. “At that point, Captain, there is only one course of action that we can take.”
“I understand, Commander,” Sterling replied, moving beside Razor and peering down at the softly iridescent skin on her face. “Do you know how long we’ve got?”
Commander Graves initially looked relucent to make a prediction. In many respects, Sterling realized it was no different to giving a life expectancy prediction for another kind of terminal illness. There was always uncertainty. However, the ship’s medical doctor eventually gave an answer.
“Based on my studies of the brains of people that were turned by the generation-one neural control weapons, it may take several months for the corruption to Lieutenant Razor’s interface to reach the same level.” The doctor paused, and Sterling waited for him to deliver the inevitable stipulation to his estimate. “However, the rate of decay may accelerate as the corruption takes hold.” The doctor shrugged. “In truth, Captain, this is as much a technological issue as a medical one. The person on this ship who is best equipped to ‘treat’ Lieutenant Razor’s condition is Lieutenant Razor herself.” Then the doctor raised his eyebrows, seeming to come up with another suggestion on the spot. “The only other who could help is, of course, the inventor of the device, James Colicos.”
Sterling tapped his finger on the side of the bed’s railings. Until they found James Colicos, Lieutenant Razor was her own best hope, which meant potentially allowing his chief engineer to resume her post. However, that was akin to allowing a walking bomb to roam the ship freely, without ever knowing when or where it might go off.
“This failsafe that you just inserted into Razor’s interface, is it foolproof?” Sterling asked. Commander Graves looked like he was gearing up for another noncommittal answer, so Sterling quickly headed him off. “I know this is all uncharted territory, Commander, so just keep it simple. Yes or no.”
“No,” the medical officer replied, starkly.
Sterling turned to his weapon’s officer. “I need you to rig a special kind of security monitor, Lieutenant,” Sterling said, noting that Shade still hadn’t taken her hand off the grip of her pistol. “Except this isn’t just for monitoring and control. I need the option to initiate a lethal shock on command, to neutralize Lieutenant Razor should the need arise.”
“Aye, Captain, I have something that will work,” Shade replied. “They employ similar devices on high-security prisoners at Grimaldi, in case of riots.”
Sterling had forgotten that his weapon’s officer had once been an inmate of the military prison, and so would know this information first-hand. He was reminded of how little he still knew about her. However, Opal Shade had proven herself time and time again. He trusted the weapons officer to get the job done.
Sterling then turned to Commander Banks. “Authority to activate the charge should pass down the chain of command, should I be killed or incapacitated,” he added. “That means if I can’t do it, the duty falls to you.”
“Understood, sir,” Commander Banks replied, though Sterling could sense that she had reservations about the order. However, his first officer knew better than to question them openly in front of the other members of the crew.
“Keep Razor sedated for now, until the modified security monitor has been installed,” Sterling continued, now addressing Commander Graves. “Alert me once she’s awake. I will explain the situation to her personally.”
“As you wish, Captain,” Commander Graves replied with his usual lack of bedside manner.
Sterling then turned to Shade. “Assign a commando to guard the medical bay until the device has been implanted, then have Commander Graves treat your injuries.”
“I request that I return to my post immediately,” Shade was quick to add before Sterling could turn for the door. “We’re in enemy territory and could be attacked at a moment’s notice.”
“The fact we’re in enemy territory is precisely why I need you fighting fit, Lieutenant,” Sterling hit back. His weapons officer’s request had not surprised him, but the last thing he needed was Shade collapsing at her post. “Get yourself fixed up then report to the bridge, that’s an order.”
“Aye, sir,” Shade replied, though her disappointment at the order was clear.
Sterling left the medical bay, closely pursued by Commander Banks. He could tell she wanted to speak her mind about the decision to let Razor loose on the ship, but she remained silent. There were still other members of the crew flitting around the narrow corridors who might overhear them.
“We still have a few hours until we reach the aperture,” Sterling said, choosing to be the one who broke the silence. “How about we grab a coffee? Then I’m going to try to get a couple of hours sleep.”
“You know me, Captain, I’m never one to turn down a visit to the wardroom,” Banks replied, smiling.
Suddenly, Jinx the beagle hound came bounding down the corridor, yapping vociferously. The dog stopped in front of Commander Banks and whined at her. Banks smiled as she picked the dog up.
“How the hell did you get out again?” said Banks, rubbing the dog’s ears.
“That thing is some kind of Houdini,” replied Sterling, scowling at the hound as they walked.
“It is a she, and she’s very clever,” Banks replied. “Aren’t you Jinx?” she added, petting the dog more boisterously, while talking in the twee tone of voice that people reserve exclusively for pets and babies.
Sterling rolled his eyes. “We’re supposed to be the most hard-ass crew in the Fleet, Mercedes,” he said, still scowling at the dog, who was looking at him dotingly. “You’re ruining our image.”
Banks frowned then gestured to the empty corridor around them. “Who's here to see?” she hit back. “Besides, I’m training Jinx to pick up the scent of the enemy. She could come in useful.”
Sterling laughed, though he wasn't entirely sure if Banks was being serious or not. “I wouldn’t let that thing anywhere near the enemy,” he replied. “They’ll probably consider it a tasty snack.”
“She, not it…” Banks corrected him again as they approached the door to the wardroom. “And if any Sa’Nerran bastard so much as looks at Jinx in a way I don’t like, I’ll personally reduce their homeworld to ash from orbit.”
“That’s the spirit, Commander,” said Sterling, stepping inside the wardroom first.
Sterling had stood the ship down from battle stations, though they remained on high alert. Even so, the compact wardroom was quiet, save a handful of off-duty personnel, who all acknowledged the captain and first officer as they entered. Sterling grabbed a couple of mugs and set a pot underneath the processor. Meanwhile, Banks occupied herself with the more important task of finding herself something to eat. Taking the freshly-filled pot out of the processor, Sterling sat down at his usual table and waited for Banks to saunter over with her foil-wrapped tray. Jinx trotted along beside her then sat down underneath her chair.
“So, I guess you think we should just airlock Razor now?” Sterling said, as Banks tore the foil wrapper off her tray. His first officer laughed, which was not the response Sterling had expected.
“I think it’s risky to let her loose, but we’re behind enemy lines and we need everyone we can get,” Banks replied, pi
cking up a piece of meat and tossing it to Jinx. “The safer option is to airlock her, but when have we ever played it safe?” Sterling shrugged then poured the coffee. Banks had a point. “Besides, I know you’ll take her out if it comes to that,” she continued, in between mouthfuls of stew. “And, who knows, maybe this Colicos guy can help. He’s supposed to be the genius.”
Sterling added some creamer to his coffee and stirred it. “I hope he’s worth it,” he replied, grabbing a cookie off Banks’ tray and dunking it into his coffee. Banks glowered at him as he did so. “If he can’t help to fix this mess then I don’t know what the hell we do next. In a straight-up fight against that Sa’Nerran armada, we could take the bastards down. But with each sector they take, more and more Fleet ships and crews get captured and turned against us.”
Banks tossed another piece of meat to Jinx, who caught it skillfully before it hit the deck. “Maybe we should launch an invasion of our own?” she said, shrugging. “While the Sa’Nerra are pushing on Earth, maybe they’ve left their own world undefended, wherever the hell it is.”
Sterling went to steal another cookie, but this time Banks was wise to his ploy and slapped his hand. The blow was meant playfully, but due to his first officer’s strength, it smarted like a hornet sting.
“The Invictus is tough, but it’s no planet killer, Mercedes,” Sterling said, shaking his throbbing hand. “And unless Fleet drives the Sa’Nerran armada back into the Void, our ships are all trapped inside the inner colonies.”
Banks considered this for a moment, while continuing to wolf down the contents of her meal tray. “We’ll find a way,” she eventually replied. She then grabbed a cookie from the meal tray and offered it to Sterling, smiling coyly as she did so. “We always do.”
