Accelerating Universe: The Sector Fleet Book One

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Accelerating Universe: The Sector Fleet Book One Page 12

by Claire, Nicola


  “Same page, Pavo,” I agreed.

  Archibald was getting above himself. This had to stop.

  “Lieutenant Chan,” I said into my comms unit.

  “Yes, sir?”

  “Send a security detail to Damon Archibald’s section of the main deck. No one goes in or out, understood?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Pavo, cut off fleet-wide comms from that section of the ship.”

  “Yes, Captain. Although I cannot control their earpieces.”

  “They only have ship-wide communication abilities, correct?”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  “That’ll have to do for now.”

  I met Ana’s eyes.

  “Lieutenant, a word in my ready room, please.”

  I crossed the deck and stepped into my private chamber without a backward glance. Ana walked in behind me, and the door slid shut at her back.

  “Are you all right?” I asked.

  “Worried,” she said. “Panicked, actually.”

  “You don’t look panicked,” I pointed out. She looked angry, in fact.

  “I wear my hysteria on the inside.”

  “As good a place as any,” I said matching her smile.

  She had a nice smile.

  “The bottom line is this, Ana,” I said, refocusing. “We need you. Pavo needs you. Can you hold it together and trust me to get Mara out?”

  She looked into my eyes in that way she had; almost a challenge. Daring me to judge. Or judging me on a dare. I couldn’t tell. But she was stronger than she had any right to be, considering her history. And damn if that didn’t make me feel all kinds of warm and fuzzy inside.

  “What’s your plan, sir?” she asked.

  For a moment, I inappropriately thought of her calling me that in an entirely different setting. It was so good; it took me a few seconds to answer her back.

  “Ah. Not much of one, I’ll admit. Contain them in their section of the ship. Open up a dialogue. Negotiate.”

  “He’s a terrorist.”

  I let out a laugh. Who would have thought? “The leaseholder is a terrorist; I’m not sure we have procedures in place for that.”

  “Is he still the leaseholder, sir? I thought you’d found a loophole.”

  I scratched my jaw.

  “A very tenuous loophole and if I do use it, I need everything to be above board from here on out. We have to have acted in the best interest of the ship and its passengers. If Archibald can challenge that, then we’re screwed.”

  She smiled at my choice of words, clearly not expecting that.

  Then the smile faded.

  “Aunt Mara’s sick,” she said.

  Oh. “How bad?”

  She shook her head and bit her bottom lip, and then said, “She’s been hiding it.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Not your fault.” Not yours either, I wanted to say.

  This woman carried so much weight on her shoulders. She was strong. But sooner or later, her legs would fail.

  “Lieutenant,” I said. “Ana.”

  She looked up at me with expectant eyes. Beautiful eyes, I realised. I could see so many different shades of brown in them. Such richness to the many hues. Her skin, I noted, was smooth and perfect. Her cheekbones, delicate but precisely where they needed to be. Her neck, long and supple. I wanted to touch right where her pulse fluttered at its base. My fingers itched to feel her warmth. Her heat.

  “Captain?” she pressed.

  I cleared my throat. Attempted to smile.

  “I’ll get your aunt back,” I said. “I promise.”

  Her smile turned indulging. “That’s not a promise you can keep, sir.”

  Like hell, it wasn’t.

  “Pavo?” I called, unable to look away from the woman before me who somehow managed to challenge me even when she didn’t mean to. “Has Archibald replied to my comms?”

  “No, Captain.”

  “Then it’s time I paid him a visit.”

  Twenty-Three

  What The Hell?

  Ana

  “I need you on the bridge,” he’d said. Then promptly headed back out of his ready room.

  It took me a few more seconds to get my legs into motion and follow him. The bridge was humming; everyone had their heads down over their consoles doing what they were supposed to do. No one looked up when we entered, but the tactical officer did announce, “Captain on the bridge.”

  It was all very military-like and, consequently, familiar.

  I walked across to my station beside the comms officer, Marshal was her surname, and sat down; unsure how to convince the captain that I should accompany him when he makes his move on Archibald.

  “Status?” Jameson asked.

  “All systems nominal, Captain,” Pavo replied.

  I noticed the captain shared a look with the tactical officer, who nodded his head, confirming Pavo’s reply.

  They didn’t trust Pavo, and I could hardly blame them. But if Pavo had a chance of avoiding a reboot, they needed to be able to trust him. I lifted the console’s earpiece and placed it inside my ear. I could have whispered and Pavo would easily have heard me, but he would have had to use the speakers on my console to reply, and then Marshal would have overheard.

  “Are you OK?” I asked.

  “I am operating within acceptable parameters,” he announced inside my ear. At least he wasn’t stuttering anymore.

  “It’s important that you don’t go offline again, Pavo,” I whispered, my lips barely moving.

  “I have no intention to, Ana.”

  “But you probably didn’t plan to before,” I pointed out.

  Silence.

  I bit my lip, trying to decide how best to address this. Pavo was much like a child in his emotional development. When he experienced strong emotions, he threw the AI equivalent of a tantrum.

  I didn’t want to set him off again.

  The captain started issuing commands before I got a chance to discuss Pavo’s precarious position any further with him. My need to be there for my aunt overrode Pavo’s state of mind, though, for the time being.

  “Commander Torrence,” Jameson said as his 2IC entered through the now fully functioning doors. “You have the bridge.”

  “Sir?”

  “Lieutenant Chan is meeting me at Archibald’s section of the main deck,” the captain said. “We already have a contingency of security on site. I’ll be fine.”

  Clearly, he was cutting off any argument the commander might have had.

  “Very well, sir.”

  “Sir!” I said standing.

  “Yes, Lieutenant?” Jameson didn’t look happy about my butting in.

  “My aunt may require medical assistance,” I said.

  He studied me for a long moment and then sighed.

  “You’ll stay at the back of the security detail until we bring her out.”

  I smiled widely at him, and he actually rolled his eyes back at me. Torrence looked mortified. Marshal just smirked.

  I grabbed my medical kit, which somehow had made it back onto the bridge with me. I barely had a memory of grabbing it from the mayor’s central hub, where it had been left, as the captain and I had passed through the section earlier. But I was relieved to have it on hand now for so many reasons. Not least of them being that it gave me a legitimate reason to tag along with the captain.

  “Right, let’s go, Lieutenant,” Jameson said, stepping toward the bridge doors.

  “Where’s your security detail, sir?” Torrence asked.

  “Waiting for me at Archibald’s,” Jameson snapped.

  “You need an escort.” Oh, he was really pushing his luck.

  “I’m his escort,” I said quickly.

  Both men looked at me.

  “I’m on the reserves for security,” I offered.

  “That she is,” Jameson said with a smile.

  Torrence just scowled, but didn’t argue further.

  We walked out of the bridge
, and the doors swished shut behind us.

  “You are a woman of many talents,” Jameson remarked.

  “You haven’t seen the half of them, sir.”

  He choked out a laugh. I think it might have caught him by surprise.

  “Somehow I believe you were an unruly army medic, Lieutenant,” he finally said.

  “I was constantly told to shut my mouth, sir.”

  He shook his head.

  “Well, you’re not in the NZ Army now.”

  “No, sir.” I wasn’t sure how to take that.

  The corridors were quiet; which was to be expected. Much of the ship was still on lockdown. But a ship this size this quiet was unusual. Unease skittered down my spine. Most of the damage to the mayor’s central hub had been cleaned up. Evidence of the cleaning bots that had been here could be seen in the shine on the gel-coated floor. A mural of a whale swimming in the sea back on Earth floated across one wall.

  If it weren't for the lack of people, it would have looked like nothing had happened here.

  I drew my weapon.

  Jameson glanced down at my hands.

  “Trouble?” he whispered.

  I shook my head. “Nerves.” I could be that honest.

  He said nothing for a long stretch and then murmured, “You did well back on the bridge. That took a lot of courage. I want to thank you.”

  I concentrated on breathing and nodded my head.

  “How’s Pavo behaving?” he asked. I was sure this line of questioning was to help me focus on something other than the eerie silence that surrounded us.

  “Within acceptable parameters,” I said. “Minus the stutter.”

  “That stutter…” he whispered, not having to say anything more. It worried him. It worried me, too.

  “Maybe we should just ask him,” I said.

  “I think his idea of acceptable parameters is somewhat different to ours.”

  I thought so too. But I wasn’t going to get into it here.

  We rounded the corner of a corridor and found the Anderson Universal security team. They had taken cover at the entrance to Archibald’s reception area. As far as I knew, this was the only way in or out for Archibald’s men. But I wasn’t sure.

  “Chan,” Jameson said, greeting the chief of security. “Status.”

  “No movement from within, Captain.”

  “Have you tried to communicate with him?”

  “Not yet, sir. We’ve been waiting for your orders.”

  Jameson nodded and studied what we could see of the reception area.

  “Hail Archibald again, Pavo,” he said.

  “There is no answer to the hail, Captain.”

  Jameson sighed. “All right, we go in.”

  “Let my men go first, sir.” Chan said.

  Jameson didn’t look happy, but he nodded. I had a sudden insight into what it would be like to hold a command position. It was not something I ever wanted to have to be constrained by.

  Two of Chan’s security peeled off after a short few words from the chief, and then we sat back and waited. Sweat began to bead my brow. I’d returned my weapon to its holster when we’d reached Lieutenant Chan, but I itched to draw it now.

  I used to be better than this.

  Jameson glanced across the space between us in the corridor. His eyes met mine. He would have noticed the sheen on my skin. Possibly even the trembling I was trying to hide. He said nothing. He either trusted me to hold it together, or he realised it was too late to do anything about it.

  At least the gel walls weren’t bathed in desert sand.

  Sound emerged from across the reception area. But it wasn’t frantic. The two AU security officers walked out unharmed.

  “What did you find, crewmen?” Jameson asked.

  “Nothing, sir,” one of the men replied. “There’s no one there.”

  “No one? What about port side? In one of the offices?”

  “All the offices are open and clear, sir.”

  Jameson frowned and shook his head.

  “Pavo?”

  “The blank spot has vanished, Captain,” the AI said.

  “And Marama Kereama’s biosignature?”

  Silence.

  Then, “Also not found.”

  What the hell?

  Twenty-Four

  What Now?

  Jameson

  “I am searching now,” Pavo advised.

  He sounded robotic again.

  I looked toward Ana, but despite this alarming bit of news, she was holding it together. Even the trembling in her fingers had gone. I realised she used anger to steady herself. She was fuming at Archibald and the games he was playing.

  “What about Archibald’s biosignature?” I asked.

  “Also not found.”

  “His stepbrother?”

  “In Habitat Two. In a low tier berth belonging to a female passenger.”

  “What’s he doing there?” I muttered.

  “At present,” the AI advised, “he is in flagrante delicto.”

  Chan sputtered. A few of his men looked appalled. Either at the AI using such a term or his ability to tell when someone was…doing it.

  “That…is unexpected,” Ana said.

  I shook my head. “Chan, send a team to detain him, please.”

  The lieutenant spoke to two of his men and sent them on their way.

  “You think he’s still involved in all of this?” Chan asked.

  “I’m not ruling him out just because he’s been caught with his pants down. It could be a diversion; a ruse Archibald is using to throw suspicion off his sibling.”

  “They did communicate via that secured line,” Ana offered.

  “Exactly. Until we know what was said, Stefan Archibald is the last known passenger to have contact with your aunt.”

  “What now?” Chan asked.

  “Pavo, any update?” I asked.

  “I cannot find them, Captain. Nor can I locate a blank spot.”

  That didn’t make any sense.

  I noticed Ana whispering something; too low for me to hear. I reached over and gripped her chin, and then turned her head. An earpiece.

  “What’s this?” I demanded.

  “An earpiece,” she replied, holding my gaze.

  “You’re wearing an earpiece when we’ve established that Archibald has a secured comms network via earpieces such as this? Are you insane?”

  She took the earpiece out and handed it to me.

  “Check it,” she said.

  I gingerly pressed the earpiece to my ear.

  “Good evening, Captain,” Pavo said.

  “It’s connected to Pavo,” I stated, stupidly.

  “Yep,” Ana replied arching her brow at me.

  “Why?” I asked, removing the earpiece but not handing it back.

  Chan watched both of us avidly, his eyes darting back and forth like he was a spectator at a tennis match. But I noticed his hand was hovering over his holstered weapon. He’d jump on her if she didn’t explain herself to my satisfaction.

  I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.

  “My orders. Sir.” The ‘sir’ was tagged on the end.

  I studied her face. I was being paranoid, I knew it. But I wasn’t sure I liked the idea of her having direct - private - comms with Pavo any more than I liked the previous thought of her being involved with Damon Archibald.

  “Can you trust me to my job, sir?” Ana finally asked.

  I let out a slow breath of air. Pavo was unstable. Ana somehow stabilised him. If she thought the best way to do that was with direct, unobserved communication, then I had to trust her.

  I reached out and placed the earpiece in her hand.

  “Don’t break that trust, Lieutenant,” I murmured.

  “No, sir,” she said, ducking her head.

  Everyone remained silent.

  “Pavo,” I finally said. “Anything?”

  “Nothing, Captain. I do not understand.”

  Neither did I. I wa
lked across the reception area and headed toward the room we had originally pinpointed as the blank spot. Chan and his team followed. Ana did too. Somehow I was acutely aware of where she was at any given time.

  I stopped in from of the room I thought Pavo had indicated.

  “Is this it?” I asked.

  “Yes, Captain. Although, not anymore.”

  “I can see that.”

  I studied the empty room. The gel walls were a soft red; an indication of Pavo’s anger at having been duped. But there was also not a lick of furniture to be seen.

  “How many empty offices like this one in the section?” I asked one of the midshipmen who had been involved in the search.

  “Empty, as in no furniture, sir?” I nodded. “Just this one. All the rest are what they should be: Functioning offices.”

  “That’s what I thought,” I muttered.

  Ana stepped forward and stared into the room. She had a haunted look in her eyes. I watched her, wanting to say something to banish her fears. But I didn’t need to. She sucked in a breath of air and scowled.

  “So, it’s collapsible,” she said.

  I smiled and then tried to hide my reaction. She was one hell of a woman, all right.

  “Yes,” I said instead of mentioning that little observation. “Pavo?”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  “Check the footage of this section over the past two hours and see where they went.”

  “Video footage has been tampered with.”

  And that was it. That was where my patience ran out. This motherfucker was meddling with my ship. The lease was void.

  “Pavo, fleet-wide hail,” I snapped.

  “Channel open. All ships responding. Audio only.”

  “This is Captain Jameson of the Sector Two lead vessel Pavo. All stop. Repeat. All stop. We are waiting for our friends in the Sector One Fleet to arrive. Acknowledge.”

  Silence for several seconds and then Pavo said, his voice far from robotic now, “All ships have acknowledged, Captain. All vessels have stopped.”

  Now, we’d see what Damon Archibald was made of.

  Ana stepped forward, hands on hips, a scowl on her face. I blinked.

  “Are you mad?” she demanded.

  What now?

  Lieutenant Chan eased closer, weapon drawn, anger in his eyes.

 

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