by G J Ogden
Fletcher smiled and Sterling could tell that the man was itching to reveal his secret. He could see that Fletcher was rightfully proud of what he’d achieved at Middle Star. Few large colonies had survived inside the Void. To hold back the Sa’Nerra by training his own crews, using only wrecked ships salvaged from the war, was no mean feat. However, age and experience had clearly also taught the former Fleet officer how to keep a secret.
“Nice try, Captain,” Fletcher replied as the tennis ball rolled past his feet, hotly pursued by Jinx. “But the only way you’ll find that out is to attack Middle Star.” The man smiled then continued toward his table before stopping and glancing back. “Though I wouldn’t recommend it,” Fletcher added.
Sterling conceded graciously then allowed the older man to retire to his new table. Shade then approached and stood to attention beside him.
“At ease, Lieutenant, this is a bar, not my ready room,” said Sterling. Shade appeared confused by the order then adjusted her stiff posture by the slightest fraction. Sterling assumed this was what constituted “relaxed” for Opal Shade.
“Sir, I’ve been analyzing the data from Admiral Griffin, but I cannot see how I am the key to unlocking a route back into Fleet space,” Shade announced. She sounded flustered and even a little embarrassed. Shade did not like to be defeated, whether in combat or any other challenge.
“What have you tried?” asked Sterling.
“Combinations of my name, date of birth, place of birth, parents, streets I used to live on, ships I’ve served on, commanding officers…”
Sterling held up a hand to stop Shade mid-flow. “I get the picture Lieutenant,” he said. Whether his weapons officer had succeeded or not, Sterling need not question her thoroughness. “We’re clearly missing something, so let’s roll everything back to the most important question of all.”
Shade’s frown hardened. “What question is that, Captain?”
“Why did Griffin choose you, of course,” replied Sterling.
However, Shade just shook her head. “I do not know, Captain.”
Sterling then sighed and decided to attempt a new and potentially awkward approach with his guarded weapon’s officer. He needed her to lower her shields.
“I’ll level with you, Lieutenant,” Sterling began. In addition to warming his insides, the port wine was also having the effect of lowering some of his own normally well-established emotional barriers. “Compared to the rest of my crew, I know very little about you,” Sterling went on, deciding that if he required openness from Shade, he’d need to be more open himself. “I know that you came to the Invictus straight out of Grimaldi Military Prison.” Shade’s gaze immediately fell to the floor as Sterling said this. “And I know that Griffin personally vouched for you and got you out so that you could serve as my weapons officer.” Shade had forced herself to meet her captain’s eyes again, though it was clearly difficult for her to do so. “What I don’t know, is why.”
Shade was silent for a moment as she processed what Sterling had said. Then she straightened to attention again, suddenly appearing more comfortable and much more her usual, imperious self.
“Admiral Griffin is my aunt, Captain,” Shade announced.
The Lieutenant was now speaking clearly and without awkwardness. She had clearly made a decision to reveal certain facts about herself and was speaking plainly, as if she’d been ordered to do so.
“Her younger brother was my father,” Shade continued. “I never took his name and used my mother’s instead. My father and I rarely saw eye-to-eye.”
“Your father was William Griffin, Captain of the Warspite?” Sterling asked. The story of the Warspite’s battle with the Sa’Nerra at Acadia Colony was one of the most famous war stories in the Fleet. He’d always assumed that it merely a coincidence that the ship’s ensign had shared the same surname as her captain. Now he knew better.
“Aye, sir,” replied Shade.
Sterling could see that some of Shade’s barriers had already gone back up, but for now his weapons officer was still managing to be open with him.
“The Warspite took down four enemy warships single-handed and lived to tell the tale,” Sterling said, thinking out loud. “Ramming the final destroyer after the Warspite’s weapons had been destroyed was one of the gutsiest moves I’ve ever heard of.” Then Sterling remembered the key detail about the engagement, which was more poignant now that he knew the identify of Opal Shade. “But Captain Griffin, your father, was killed during that attack?”
“Aye, sir, that’s correct,” Shade answered. “I was the ensign on duty at the time. The Captain and first officer were incapacitated, so I made the call.”
Sterling could hardly believe it. “It was you that rammed that destroyer?”
“Yes, sir,” Shade replied. “Then I left my father on the bridge to die.”
Sterling knew the tale of the Warspite well enough to know that Shade’s brutal summary of her actions wasn’t the whole story.
“If I remember correctly, Lieutenant, you dragged three people off that bridge alive before the hull breach forced the emergency seals to fall,” Sterling countered.
“It doesn’t matter, sir,” Shade replied. “The crew blamed me for the death of their captain.”
It was all starting to make sense to Sterling now, including why Shade had ended up in Grimaldi. Over two hundred crew had perished when the Warspite rammed the enemy destroyer, including its captain. This was despite the fact the desperate act had saved the ship and won the battle. Emotions ran high in the aftermath of the incident, and plenty of blame was thrown around. Several fights had broken out at G-COP and one man had died. Sterling didn’t know for sure, but he was guessing that Shade’s incarceration was directly related to these events. However, he also knew the details of the court marshals that had followed, even if he hadn’t paid attention to the names of those involved.
“The Fleet prosecuting authority found that your actions on the Warspite were warranted, and that you had no case to answer,” Sterling said, speaking more sternly. Shade clearly blamed herself and was perhaps even punishing herself. However, from what Sterling knew of the facts, she had no reason to do so. “You would have been honored for your bravery, had what happened next not occurred.”
“So you know about the fight?” Shade asked, clearly surprised that Sterling had brought it up.
“I didn’t know it was you until just now, but yes,” Sterling replied. “And if it’s any consolation, I would probably have done the same in your boots.” Sterling then slid off the stool and stood tall in front of his weapons officer. “I don’t care about heroes or heroics, Lieutenant,” Sterling went on. “I only care that when a decision has to be made, no matter how horrific the outcome, that an officer makes the hard call, not the easy call. You saved that ship. Your father was just another casualty of war. Screw anyone that thinks any different.”
Shade nodded. “Aye, sir.”
However, as fascinating as it was to hear Shade’s story, it still got them no further forward in their quest to unravel Admiral Griffin’s mystery message. Sterling swirled the stem of the wine glass on the counter, trying to think how any of this related to the encrypted file Griffin had sent them. However, he still drew a blank.
“I’m afraid I don’t know how any of this helps, sir,” Shade then said, sounding much more at ease. “I’ve already tried thinking of words or places associated with Admiral Griffin and myself, but nothing worked.”
“Maybe we’re over-thinking this,” said Sterling. “There has to be something common between you and your aunt. Something special or unusual. Something that only you would know. Something you shared?”
Shade thought for a moment. “We share a rare genetic condition, called adermatoglyphia,” she added, almost as an afterthought.
“Is that serious?” said Sterling, recoiling from his weapons officer. “It sounds serious.”
“It basically means I have no fingerprints, sir,” Shade replied, holding o
ut her hands, palms facing up and straightening her fingers. Sterling leant closer and inspected the tips of Shade’s digits. They were completely smooth.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” said Sterling, rocking back on the stool. “That’s going to make ID checks more challenging for you when you move up the ranks.”
“I still don’t see how it helps, though, Captain,” said Shade, pulling her hands back to her sides.
Sterling continued to twirl the stem of his glass, peering at the ruby red liquid as if it were a crystal ball that could give him the answers he sought. Then the thick, crimson liquid gave him an idea.
“What if your DNA is the key?” said Sterling, holding up the glass and sloshing the liquid inside. “It would be just like Griffin to need you to bleed in order to get the answer.”
Shade’s pencil-line eyebrows raised up. “I suppose it is possible, sir,” she said, sounding unconvinced. “With your permission, I’ll see if Lieutenant Razor can use a sample of my blood for analysis.”
“Very good, Lieutenant,” said Sterling, raising his glass. “Keep me appraised.”
“Aye, sir,” Shade replied. She then stood to attention and spun on her heels before heading toward the door.
“And Lieutenant,” Sterling called out, causing Shade to stop and turn around. “For what it’s worth, knowing what I know only makes me more certain that you belong on this ship,” Sterling added.
“Thank you, Captain,” said Shade.
Sterling could see that the weapons officer’s shields had gone back up. However, there was enough of a flicker in her eyes to let Sterling know that his comment had hit home.
“You’re dismissed, Lieutenant,” Sterling said. He then slid back onto the bar stool, raised the wine glass to his lips and drained the contents in one.
Chapter 33
An ignominious end
The Invictus slowed to a stop at the co-ordinates provided in the file Admiral Griffin had provided, prior to the Invictus departing F-COP for the Void. Sterling’s hunch that the rare genetic defect that Griffin and Opal Shade shared was the key had been correct. As it turned out, Shade had not been required to let her blood in order for Lieutenant Razor to unlock Admiral Griffin’s file. The cause of the condition was a mutation in the SMARCAD1 gene on Chromosome 4Q22. The passphrase had therefore turned out to be “SMARCAD14Q22”. However, while Sterling’s moment of insight had allowed his chief engineer to unlock the file and give them a location in the Void, it did not explain what to do once they arrived. As such, the Invictus was now in the middle of nowhere on the Fleet side of the Void, close to a Fleet colony that had been wiped out over thirty years earlier.
“Report, Lieutenant Razor,” said Sterling, glancing to his chief engineer at her station at the rear of the bridge. “Why the hell are we out here?”
As usual, Razor was flitting from console to console, running multiple scans and analyses at once.
“I’m running every standard scan I can think of, Captain,” Razor replied, while continuing to work. “But so far, this just appears to be empty space.”
Banks then turned around and rested back against her console, looking thoughtful.
“We’re not looking for something standard,” she said, trying to work through the conundrum. “Whatever the admiral sent us here to find must be out of the ordinary, and something that a standard scan won’t pick up.”
“Like what?” asked Sterling. He couldn’t fault his first officer’s logic, but he didn’t see how it helped them.
Banks shrugged. “She suggested this would be a way back to Fleet space, so perhaps a wormhole?” she wondered. “Either that, or she hid a Fleet of warships somewhere in this system so we could surge back to G-sector and kick the Sa’Nerra off our lawn.”
Sterling huffed a laugh, but then had a thought. “What if there is a wormhole out here, but it’s not actually a wormhole, but another aperture?” Razor stopped working and started paying attention. “We know the Sa’Nerra established a number of long-range apertures, which they then abandoned for obvious reasons. What if Fleet was doing the same?”
From the thoughtful expression on Banks’ face, his first officer appeared to be attracted to the idea. Razor, however, had already returned to her consoles. Several seconds later, Sterling’s console chimed an update.
“You were right,” said Razor, turning back to face her Captain. “There is an aperture at the co-ordinates Admiral Griffin supplied. The signature is similar to the unstable apertures we found in Sa’Nerran space. Not exactly alike, but close.”
Sterling checked his console and saw that the location of the aperture was now showing on his scanner readout. He rested forward on the console, sliding his hands into the grooves on its side.
“The problem is we might ride this aperture and end up crippled again on the other side,” Sterling said, tapping his finger on the side of the console. “Can we send a probe?”
“We’re fresh out, I’m afraid,” replied Banks. “This time we’re going to have to ride it blind.”
Sterling shook his head, though he’d already resigned himself to the fact that they really had no choice. It was either surge or remain in the Void.
“I can modify our surge field to compensate, but there’s no question it will be a sporty ride, Captain,” Razor added.
Sterling sighed and glanced at Banks, who also had a resigned look on her face.
“Okay, Lieutenant, make the modifications,” Sterling replied. “But if we keep riding the rapids like this, we’re going to have to get chairs fitted to the bridge,” he added, tightening his grip on the console. Sterling then turned to Shade. “Take us to battle stations, Lieutenant, just to be on the safe side. Who knows where this thing will take us…”
The alert klaxons sounded and the bridge was bathed in red. It seemed to Sterling that they’d spent more time at battle stations than they had at any other condition.
“The new surge parameters are programmed in, Captain,” said Razor, bracing herself against one of the consoles at the rear of the bridge.
“Very well, take us in, Ensign,” said Sterling, nodding to his eager helmsman.
“Aye sir,” replied Keller, smartly. “Approaching aperture threshold now. Ten seconds to surge.”
Sterling cleared his head and tightened his grip further. He hoped that he wasn’t about to experience a repeat of the disembodied hallucinations he was subjected to the last time they surged through an unstable aperture.
“Surging in three,” Keller called out. “Two…
However, there was no call of, “one”, at least not that Sterling heard. The ship had already been consumed by the sub-dimension of space that facilitated aperture travel. Sterling again found himself conscious of his own lack of existence, and also swamped by images and memories of recent events. Scenes of battles they’d fought and alien warriors he’d slain were interspersed with more banal scenes with the crew. Then he found himself standing in front of Mercedes Banks, in the corridor outside the medical bay.
“I’m glad you’re with me, Mercedes,” Sterling said. He was again unable to stop himself speaking the words, as if he were an observer of his own past. “I need you by my side.”
Mercedes Banks then moved closer and wrapped her arms around Sterling’s neck.
This isn’t what happened… Sterling thought, but then he was immediately unsure of himself. Or was it?
“You can have me, Lucas,” replied Banks, pulling Sterling closer. “Whenever you want.”
Did this happen? Sterling asked himself, as Banks’ face drew so close that he could feel her breath on his skin.
Mercedes Banks then pulled Sterling’s body against her own and kissed him passionately on the lips. Sterling was unable to resist, partly because of Banks’ overpowering strength, but also because he didn’t want to.
Suddenly the bridge exploded back into reality and Sterling found himself face down on his console. Alarms were sounding from multiple stations and the bridge light
s were flickering chaotically.
“Captain?”
Sterling felt hands grip under his armpits and he was hauled upright. His head was thumping and his eyes were blurry.
“Captain, can you hear me?”
Sterling blinked his eyes and shook his head, despite the fact this made it throb even harder. Then his vision cleared and he saw Commander Banks standing in front of him. His cheeks flushed red, suddenly reminded of the vision he’d had during their recklessly-long surge.
“Are you okay, Lucas?” said Banks, lowering her voice.
Sterling took Banks’ hands, which he realized were still holding him and gently pushed them away. “I’m fine, Commander,” he said, turning back to the viewscreen. “What’s our status?”
Banks remained by Sterling’s side for a moment, a questioning look on her face, but then moved back to her console.
“The reactor is offline, but emergency power cells are functioning,” Banks said, working her station. “We’re receiving reports of multiple minor hull breaches. The cargo bay has completely depressurized. Seventeen more wounded.”
“There won’t be anyone left on the ship at this rate,” Sterling said, squeezing his eyes shut from the pain that was throbbing through his temples. “Do we know yet where the hell we are?”
“Star fixes and surge data suggest we’re in F-sector, quadrant one,” Banks replied.
“F-sector?” Sterling said, checking and confirming the readings on his own console. “That’s one a hell of surge.”
“Aye, sir,” said Banks, echoing Sterling’s sentiment. “It looks like we’re close to Pandora, one of the evacuated outer colonies. That would put us about three standard surges from F-COP.” Banks’ console then chimed an alert and her brow furrowed. “There’s a ship incoming,” she said, working her console. The image of a Fleet Frigate appeared on the viewscreen. “It’s the Corpus Christi, sir. A gen-two Patrol Frigate.” Banks console then chimed another update. “It’s hailing us.”
