by Joe Vasicek
As the shapes unfolded around a vertical line of symmetry, he thought he saw them condensing into something. He peered a little closer, and without warning they collapsed into darkness, making his eyes shiver. When the shapes returned, it wasn’t fractals he saw but an actual physical object. He recognized it at once as a cryotank.
Come for me.
He thought at once of the girl he and Isaac had rescued at Nova Alnilam, the last survivor of a derelict station lost to the depths of space. Her call for help startled him—it had been months since he’d dreamed of her. Until the Battle of Colkhia, he’d thought of her day and night. But ever since his brother had gone missing, he’d all but forgotten her.
Come for me.
He stepped tentatively forward and peered into the glass, expecting to see her peaceful sleeping form. Instead, what he saw made him gasp.
It wasn’t the girl in the tank—it was his brother, frozen with his eyes wide open. His hands reached up as if to claw at the glass from inside, and his body was contorted in awful pain.
“Isaac? Isaac!”
Come for me.
A buzzing in his ear snapped him into consciousness. The dream collapsed, leaving him with a splitting headache. It cleared quickly, though, returning strength to his exhausted limbs. From somewhere off to his left, a door chime sounded. He tore off the dream monitor with trembling hands.
“Isaac,” he groaned, rubbing his head. He recognized his quarters, with some half-eaten food on a plate lying next to him on the bed. Other than that, it was clean enough. He set the plate on his desk table and slipped into his uniform.
Someone’s at the door, he realized as the door chime sounded again. It’s probably Mara, come to chastise me about something or other.
To his surprise, it was Lieutenant Nova.
“Captain Deltana, sir” she said, giving him a crisp salute. He returned the salute with one hand while buttoning himself hastily with the other.
“Lieutenant—what a surprise. Uh, come in.”
If she noticed his state of dishabille, she made no visible sign of it. He finished buttoning his shirt and motioned for her to sit down on the chair.
“Captain, I heard that you recently discovered evidence that one of our missing operatives came through this system.”
Aaron frowned. “Missing operatives?”
“An agent of the Resistance piloting the ship known as the Medea.
Isaac. She means Isaac.
“Yes, Lieutenant, that’s correct.”
“Are you aware of the significance of this discovery?” she asked, her voice nearly breathless. “That operative was carrying a top-secret jump beacon device that we cannot allow to fall into the wrong hands. My superiors in the intelligence community have put out a top-level alert to find him and retrieve the device, or at least confirm that it was destroyed.”
“What are you saying, Lieutenant?”
“Captain, what I’m saying is that finding this operative should be our top priority. The technology he’s carrying could cost us the war if it falls into the wrong hands. If we know that he came through this system, we should pursue him with all possible haste.”
Aaron’s heart leaped in his chest. A top-level alert—this was exactly the green light he needed to go ahead. Even as his enthusiasm surged, though, he could hear Mara’s voice in the back of his head telling him not to go.
“What about our orders?” he asked. “We’re supposed to patrol the local sector until the fleet calls us elsewhere.”
“Yes, but Captain, this changes everything. No one in High Command could have known that we’d make this discovery—if they had, they would have told us to pursue it. You have to make your decisions based on conditions in the field.”
You have no idea how much I want to believe you.
“What if we informed High Command of this discovery and waited for orders?” he asked, knowing that Mara would ask exactly the same thing.
Katya scooted to the edge of her seat. “We don’t have time, sir. The Imperials will be upon us in just a matter of weeks. By the time High Command gets back to us, it may be too late.”
“I hope you’re right, Lieutenant,” he muttered under his breath.
“What was that, sir?”
He looked at her and took a deep breath. “Who else have you told about this?”
“No one, sir. When I learned about it, I came straight to you.”
“That’s good—very good.” He smiled and rose to his feet. “Thank you very much, Lieutenant. You are dismissed.”
“But Captain—”
“I appreciate you informing me about the situation, but I must confer with my first officer before making a decision. I’m sure you understand.”
Katya gave him a puzzled look, but she nodded as she stood up. “Of course, sir. Though if you want me to brief her first, I—”
“That won’t be necessary, Lieutenant. Dismissed.”
As the door hissed shut behind her, Aaron collapsed into his chair. He could hardly believe it was all happening—everything was finally starting to come together. The only thing left was to convince Mara to come on board.
Though with her tendency to nag him, he doubted she ever would.
* * * **
Mara wasn’t expecting a call from Aaron, but as soon as she got it, she left her bridge duty to go see him. It wasn’t urgent, but knowing him, if he didn’t have her brain to pick he’d go on ahead without thinking at all.
“Captain,” she said, saluting as she stepped into his quarters. He was already in uniform, staring out the porthole window with his hands clasped comfortably behind his back. She waited for him to turn and acknowledge her.
“Thank you for coming, Mara,” he said. “Please, have a seat.”
“I’d prefer to stand.”
He shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
“You called for me, sir?” she asked.
“Yes. Lieutenant Nova has brought some information to my attention that may change the nature of our mission. I wanted to hear your input before I make my decision.”
Dammit, Mara thought to herself. Knowing Aaron, he’d already made his decision and was now hoping to justify it to her.
“What did she tell you?”
“Fleet intelligence has put out a top-level alert on any information regarding my brother. Finding and recovering him is a top priority. Apparently, the equipment he was carrying is highly classified, and cannot be allowed to fall into the wrong hands.”
Mara frowned. “Did these orders come through our command chain?”
“No. But Mara, the fleet was just organized a couple of months ago—it didn’t even exist when Isaac went MIA. With how messy things are administratively, we have to take the initiative on our own.”
“Then why did you call me here?”
“Because I didn’t want to go ahead with this without getting your opinion. What do you think, Mara?”
She looked into Aaron’s eyes and saw a fire that she knew all too well. He wanted more than anything to go after his brother—his mind was set, and there was nothing she could do to persuade him to change his mind. She could fight him on it, of course, and perhaps she was even stubborn enough to win, but was that really a good idea? She thought of Mathusael’s advice in the cryochamber, and knew that it wasn’t.
“We can’t ask High Command for clarification of our orders?”
“We can,” said Aaron, “but it would take weeks to hear back from them, and by the time we did, the trail would be even colder. Plus, the Imperials might already be on top of us. Our window of opportunity for this is pretty small.”
“Then it’s your decision, Captain,” she said with some reluctance. “Personally, I think it’s a mistake to abandon our post, but if we’re going to follow up this lead, we should do it now.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Aaron said, clearly relieved to hear her answer. “Whether our lead is cold or not, we only have a short time to pursue it.”
“You
’re really going to go for this, then?”
He stared out the porthole window without answering her. It was as if he were searching for something, or perhaps listening to the whispers of the stars. The starfarers claimed that the stars called out to them, beckoning to be explored, but Mara knew it wasn’t just that. It was his brother.
“Raise the alert,” he said. “I want all hands on deck within the hour. Have the officers report directly to the bridge.”
Mara sighed and nodded. “When do we leave?”
“As soon as possible.”
Whispers in the Dark
“All stations, report.”
The officers of the Merope-7 looked at each other with puzzled glances. Aaron couldn’t blame them—until just a couple dayshifts ago, he hadn’t expected to leave Ithaca so soon himself. But the important thing was that they were here, ready to obey his commands.
“Helm and astrogation, ready.”
“Engineering reports all systems green.”
“Comms and medical, ready at your orders.”
“Weapons and countermeasures, online.”
Mara took a deep breath. “All crew are on board and accounted for. Ready at your orders, sir.”
“Excellent,” said Aaron. He stood up from his command chair and stared out the forward window for several moments with his hands clasped behind his back.
“Phoebe, open up a shipwide channel.”
“Yes, Captain,” she said, keying in the command on her console. “Channel is open.”
He nodded and turned to face them, looking them each in the eye as he spoke.
“This is the captain speaking,” he began. “As all of you have noticed, I have raised the alert level and ordered all crew to their posts. I want you to know that this is not a drill. We are making preparations to embark and will leave the system imminently.”
The tension in the room rose a notch, and the puzzlement on their faces turned to open surprise. He went on.
“Some of you may be wondering how this fits in with our mission. When High Command sent us to Ithaca, they ordered us to patrol the local sector as part of the rearguard to the rest of the fleet. We are not abandoning that mission. However, we recently obtained information that has changed the scope of our mission, and I have decided to take the initiative rather than wait for new orders from High Command.”
He paused. The bridge was as silent as the void of space. His officers were listening with rapt attention—as was the rest of the crew, no doubt.
“About two standard months ago, a Resistance operative in possession of a top-secret military device went MIA near the Colkhia system. We learned that he passed through Ithaca sometime after he disappeared. It’s unclear what happened next, but we know that he must have passed through the Shiloh Rift, so we’re going there to hunt for any clue as to where he was going and who was following him.
“That missing operative is my brother. Our primary objective is to make sure that the device doesn’t fall into enemy hands, but if there is any chance we can recover him, I expect all of you to do everything you can to make that happen. If it does, I will personally be very grateful.”
He nodded to Phoebe, who cut the transmission. “Channel is closed, sir,” she said softly.
“Thank you, Phoebe.” He turned to the bridge. “Before we embark, are there any objections? They will be noted in the log.”
The bridge was silent. If anyone objected to his plans, they didn’t have the courage to speak up. On the contrary, as he looked into each of their faces, he saw a heartening solidarity. Even Mara was fully behind him.
“Very well,” he said, taking his seat in the command chair. “Jason, charge weapons. Apollo, set the jump coordinates for the rift, about half a light-year in.”
“Captain,” said Apollo, “at that distance, we won’t be able to pinpoint our exit point. Our ship’s mass allotment only allows for a safe jump distance of point two light-years.”
“Pinpoint accuracy isn’t important,” said Aaron. “Just make sure we don’t come out in the middle of the nebula.”
“Plasma cannons charged and ready,” said Jason. He leaned back and grinned. “Are we hunting for anything in particular, Captain?”
“We’ll find out soon enough. Mathusael, optimize the scanners for a detailed analysis across all spectra. Mara, sync our scanners with the command center and make sure Lieutenant Nova can see what we’re seeing.”
“Understood,” said Mara. She was already at work.
“Target co-ordinates set, Captain Deltana,” said Apollo. “We’re ready to jump.”
Aaron gripped the armrests of his command chair and stared out the forward window at the starfield beyond. “Take us out, Apollo.”
A low hum sounded beneath the floor and through the bulkheads. He closed his eyes and held his breath as the hum grew in pitch and intensity. He felt a strange rising sensation, as if the space all around him was shrinking and he was getting pulled out of it. It grew until his stomach flipped and his heart leaped into his throat, but just when he thought he couldn’t take it anymore, the feeling passed.
Those long jumps are the worst, he thought silently as he opened his eyes. Especially when there isn’t a jump beacon on the other end.
“Jason, what do you see?”
“Initial scanner reports coming in now, Captain,” Jason reported. “I’m not seeing anything in our immediate vicinity. Particle density is in the yellow, but still within acceptable limits.”
“Triangulating position,” said Apollo. “Looks like that jump took us a little farther than we expected.”
“But we’re in the rift?” Aaron asked.
Apollo nodded. “Yes, sir. Just barely in the safe zone, but still in the rift and not in the nebula.”
“Initial scan complete,” said Jason. “Commencing deep field scan.”
“On screen.”
The main bridge display just below the forward window flashed to show the local area. Except for a green dot in the middle, it was completely empty.
“Looks like we’re alone,” Aaron mused aloud. “Jason, power down weapons to standby.”
“Acknowledged, Captain.”
“Are we picking up any comms signals?”
“Nothing but dust and silence,” said Phoebe. She did a double-take and frowned. “Wait… There’s something strange going on here.”
“What?”
“I’m picking up a faint transmission—no, make that three. The interference from the nebula is garbling them pretty badly, though.”
Aaron frowned. “How far out are they?”
“Impossible to say,” she said. “At standard broadcast frequency strength, though, I’d say—stars of Earth.”
Her face went white, making Aaron’s blood turn cold. “What is it, Lieutenant?”
“More signals. The deep field is picking up at least a hundred of them, with more coming in every moment. It’s as if… as if there’s hundreds of different voices all echoing at once.”
“Triangulation is complete, Captain,” said Apollo. “If you’d like us to locate the source of some of those transmissions, we can do so now.”
“But the redshifts…” Phoebe muttered, clearly engrossed by what she saw on her display. “Captain, these signals can’t be coming from any nearby settlement. They’re coming from all directions—some of them even from deep space.”
“Then they must have originated from passing starships,” said Mara.
“Starships?” said Aaron, turning to frown at her. “What makes you think that?”
“Because the only thing in deep space that can emit this kind of a signal is a starship,” she answered. “This rift is a major corridor between the Far Outworlds and the Coreward Frontier, so there are ships coming through here all the time.”
“But why would so many of them transmit signals like this?” Apollo asked. “There’s no need.”
Or was there?
“Maybe there was a need,” Aaron mused, scratch
ing his chin. “Maybe they needed to transmit their positions, because of…”
“Because of what?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. But Mara’s right—those have to be coming from starships.”
“Phoebe, how far is the nearest signal?” Mara asked.
Phoebe peered at her display and toggled a few keys on her console. “It looks like the nearest one is about point one two light-years away.”
“Point one two,” said Mara. “That means the last transmission happened a little less than two months ago. Whatever made them transmit these signals, it stopped shortly after the Battle of Colkhia.”
The Battle of Colkhia, Aaron thought, his mind racing. That’s when my brother went missing. There had to be a connection, but what was it?
His eyes widened as realization struck him. “Pirates.”
“Pirates?” Mara asked.
“Yes. Back at Ithaca, the station master told us that the rift was swarming with pirates until just a couple of months ago.”
“But why would any starfarer transmit his position when the sector is swarming with pirates?”
An alarm sounded at Jason’s console. Aaron frowned and turned to face him.
“What is it, Jason?”
“I’m picking up an emergency beacon,” he said, peering at his screen. “It’s a non-military signal about point one eight light-years out. Someone’s calling for help.”
A tense silence descended on them, punctuated only by the beeping of the alarm. In the silence, Aaron quickly reviewed his options. It could be a trap meant to lure them into an ambush, but the Merope-7 had more than enough firepower to deal with any pirate threat. If it wasn’t a trap, the survivors were almost certainly dead by now, but their derelict ship might hold some sort of clue.
“Let’s go after it,” he said. “Apollo, how long until we’re ready to jump?”
“After the last one, it’s going to take some time to fully recharge our drives. We probably won’t be able to make it this—”
“We don’t need a full charge, we just need enough to get us to that signal. How long do you think it will take.”
