by Trevor Wyatt
“Apparently, we’ve been busier than I thought capturing downed Sonali starships,” she said with a smile. “War may be the mother of all invention but you can never beat good old-fashioned stealing.”
She tried to give him a smile to cut the overhanging tension in the air caused by the mission. If she could lighten the mood for just one moment, distract him from his thoughts for just a second, it could mean the difference between life and death when they go into battle.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you by the way,” he said as he turned to face CNC from his tactical consul.
“Can you get me all of the data and telemetry that we collected from the debris of The Mariner?” Jeryl asked.
“Sure,” said Ashley. “You can have that in the next few minutes.”
“Thanks,” he said. “I also need all of the data that we have on that nebula, any sort of data that was sent back by The Mariner, and all data from first contact as well as any active and passive scans that the ship was running at that time.”
She nodded and started to input the commands that would get all of the information to the captain. She knew that any Armada starship normally ran passive scans in the background of the surrounding space. This was standard operating procedure. It allowed some of the routine scanning that needed to be done in order for course corrections and any sort of star charting for the navigator to engage in to be done without having to go through any sort of CNC officer approving and keeping track of it. The scans themselves were very low energy and not an intense power drain on the ship's energy sources so they ran continuously—even while in space dock.
“With that kind of data it’ll take at least 20 minutes to get it all compiled,” Ashley said. “You want it routed to your tablet?”
“No,” he said. “Send it to my workstation in my office. I plan to do some reading about the circumstances that started this conflict. We have at least a few more hours until we get to the nebula. I might as well start going through that information.”
Ashley’s ears perked up and her sixth sense started tingling.
“Jeryl,” she said slowly keeping her voice low. “What’s going on?”
Jeryl shrugged and looked away. It was like he was thinking of what to say.
“I’m not sure yet,” he said his voice lowering even more so that no one in CNC could hear them.
“But it’s something that’s been at the back of my head and I need to go over it. Something I thought of last night. Somethings not right about this. Something wasn’t right from the very single day that we met the Sonali. And if we have this time I’m going to actually finally use it after all these years to try and see what it could be.”
Ashley smiled and nodded. “You’ll have it shortly.”
Jeryl nodded and thanked her before turning and walking into his office.
She knew he was waiting for that report.
She knew there was something in it that he thought could help.
She smiled, because now, finally, she recognized the man again from last night. The man she married.
Jeryl
The last update Jeryl received from the CNC told him they were a few hours away from the rendezvous in The Mariner Nebula. As the time approached, he felt more and more conflicted. He was haunted by the terror he was about to unleash upon a people whose only wrong may have been to meet them. He couldn’t help but wonder if this war was a huge mistake.
He knew that, as an officer, he had to ensure that all orders given were moral and appropriate based on the information he had at his disposal. But there was some level of fear that went with reviewing past orders, especially those that led to catastrophic ramifications.
Not to mention that this war had started because of him.
What if he was wrong? What would that mean for him? All the lives that had been lost, all the worlds that had been wiped out, they would all be on him. What would the Armada do to him? Would they court-martial him? Would they execute him?
If he found out the truth and sent a slipstream message back to Admiral Flynn, telling him that this war was nothing but a huge mistake and that the Sonali didn’t down The Mariner, what would Flynn think of him? What would the crew think of him?
Thankfully, most of the old crew remained with The Seeker. All the CNC crew were with him when it first happened. They had a lot more understanding of the context surrounding this war than most did. They would understand. At least, Jeryl thought so.
He exhaled softly. He had to decide on a course of action.
He began to consider the other side of the equation. Say the Sonali were innocent, that they didn’t destroy The Mariner…would they be innocent of all the lives that had been lost? But if they were innocent of the crimes the humans leveled against them, why did they respond with such an aggressive show of force?
For a time, during the beginning of the war, they were more interested in surviving than in winning. They were focused on living through to the next day and defending their planets than in destroying Sonali dreadnaughts. It took several ships, a miracle, sheer force of will, and stunning ingenuity to bring down a Sonali Cruiser. And then there were more.
Now, the odds had been leveled. They were no longer retreating and trying to survive; they were counterattacking. They were pushing the bastards back.
So, what the hell happens next if they weren’t the cause of the war? They sure as hell had sustained it. They could have retaliated and let it be. But no, they had to invade their systems. They had to wipe out their deep space stations. They had to destroy their planets, even those that weren’t defended. Jeryl himself might not be innocent, but the Sonali must share the blame.
He sat back on his chair and suddenly realized what sustained this war for so long: it really wasn’t The Mariner.
In fact, no one spoke about The Mariner any more. They spoke about the destruction of their bases. They spoke about the pillaging of their worlds. They spoke about the death and destruction the Sonali had left in their wake. They spoke of how close humanity came to be terminated.
We may have falsely started this war, thought Jeryl. But the Sonali are as much responsible for its prognosis as we are.
Now that he was facing possible genocide, he had a decision to make. The Sonali had never demonstrated the kind of restraint he was feeling. They had been careless in attacking defenseless planets. Once, they had leveled a planet with more than five hundred million inhabitants.
That planet was far removed from the front lines and didn’t have any defenses. This was two years ago. They had punched through their lines in the Eridan Sector. Came as close to the Core Worlds as they ever came before.
Jeryl knew he shouldn’t even be considering mercy with the Sonali, yet here he was.
Well, I guess I’m only human.
He smiled as he arrived at this stunning revelation. This was what differentiated them from the Sonali.
We’re merciful, they aren’t. We’re kind, they aren’t. We’re reasonable, they aren’t.
But it wasn’t as simple as that, was it? Were these descriptive terms universal or was he just trying to understand the Sonali, another intelligent species, through the lens of human experience? What would Professor Guss have said?
Having fought the Sonali, he decided that much of what his professor taught was bullshit philosophy. When push came to shove, the Sonali was just another human foe they had to defeat.
“Pull up file FC 001,” he said into the air.
“Access denied,” the computer said. “File is classified.”
“Override authorization code AGZ121,” he said,
“Checking,” came the computer reply. A moment later, “Access granted.”
Then, a holoscreen appeared over his table at a good distance from him. It was a voice recording of his experience with the Sonali ship five years ago. It was recorded at the Edoris Station, a meeting of the entire leadership of the Armada, immediately after his contact with the Sonali. The results of the meeting were cla
ssified, including all recordings and notes made, but he was one of the participants in that meeting, and he had access to it.
“Play,” he said and the recording starts. Closing his eyes and listening to himself five years ago, self-recounting the experience with the Sonali, he began to relish every moment.
The back and forth with the ship’s head. The messages buried beneath messages. The clicking and popping sound of the Sonali. The blue humanoid creature that sometimes tortured his sleep. The accusation he leveled against them for The Mariner. The aggressive response he got … and a request to come on a diplomatic mission to their home planet, veiled by a threat to use force on them.
They never admitted to destroying The Mariner. But why not? If they did it, why not admit it?
Jeryl remembered The Seeker’s original purpose: to find out what had happened to The Mariner. Why did he never accomplish that? It might not be enough to reverse all the damage this war had caused, but it might suffice to stop the Wolf Offensive and preserve what humanity they still had left in them.
He picked up his tablet from his table and call up his report from that day. He checked their current bearings to see if they could make a detour. He saw that they could.
He walked into the CNC, head held high.
“Captain on deck!” roared the security personnel.
“At ease,” he said, noticing as some of his officers become tense. Jeryl took his seat. He could feel Ashley’s eyes boring holes into the side of his right temple. He shared his deepest and darkest thoughts with her. She knew that he had been struggling with their orders. He just hope she didn’t feel like she had to oppose him when he decided on what to do next.
“Lieutenant Eilean,” he said, “give me an update.”
“We are approaching the rendezvous point, sir,” she replied.
“Okay,” he said. He felt the tension in the bones of his fingers as he tightened them around the edge of his seat. Whatever decision he made from there on out, he would need the full cooperation of his crew.
“Prepare to make a course correction, First Lieutenant.”
He watched her carefully as she scanned the readout on her workstation, before scanning the information on the view screen. He knew she was looking for reasons for a course correction. When she was certain there was no need for a correction, she looked at Jeryl.
“What correction, sir?”
He grabbed his tablet from his side and tapped a button.
“Sending you the coordinates.”
She returned her attention to her workstation as the coordinate slid into her view. She pulled up the map of the quadrant, placing the coordinate Jeryl had sent her, their present location, and where they ought to be. She put the information on the screen so that everyone could see it.
“Captain, that’s way off course,” she replied. Then she looked at him. “I don’t understand.”
That was when Ashley joined in. “Captain, why do you want us to go there?”
He raised his voice for two reasons: one, for everyone in the CNC to hear him. Two, he wanted them to understand this decision was not up for debate.
“Many of you know that this area is where it all began. This is where The Mariner went missing, and where it was destroyed. This is also where we, five years ago, made First Contact with another species. Well, the coordinate you see on the screen is where our trail five years ago ended, when we were intercepted by the first Sonali ship.”
Ashley was by her side now. She was looking at his tablet, so he twisted his wrist so she could get a better look.
“But why go there?” she asked him in a whisper.
Everyone’s attention was still focused on Jeryl, but he addressed his First Officer alone.
“Because everything we need to know about this damn war is right there. Let’s know for sure what happened to The Mariner before we commit a terrible mistake.”
Ashley
Ashley knew she should be happy and excited.
After all, throughout their flight to this quadrant, she had campaigned against the brutality of the Wolf Offensive. Right now, though, she was neither happy nor excited. If anything, she was exhausted.
She nodded her acquiescence to the Captain and returned to her station. She made it like she was okay with his decision, though she still felt a bit hurt; hurt because his decision came as a shock to her. He had told her how he felt about the Wolf Offensive, agreeing with her in the confines of our quarters. Now, he was going ahead to effect a change to their flight plan based on what? She wondered what made him change his mind so fast.
“We need to find out the truth,” he said out loud. “Not our truth. Not something we assumed to be true. We need to find out the truth.”
Oddly, everyone nodded their head in agreement. Some even muttered their agreement. Ashley snatched a glance at him to find that he was looking at her. She returned her gaze to her console and remained passive. She could feel him looking at her. In fact, she could almost hear him asking her what the problem was.
“Course plotted and ready to execute, sir,” the navigator officer said.
“Go ahead, Eilean. Take us there.”
There was a sharp whine as the Battle Cruise began to change course at FTL factor four. Before long, they were on course to the coordinates the captain had shared. Ashley began to wonder what awaited them out there.
She began to feel her unease subside—but not because she was finally going to know the truth. It subsided because another emotion rose in her mind.
Fear.
What were they going to find there? Most people were afraid of their past, and Ashley was no different. She was about to face it head-on, and she wasn’t sure if she was ready for it. What if they found out that the Sonali hadn’t destroyed The Mariner?
What would they do then?
Her console notified her that a course correction had been completed, and that this had affected their mission profile. The system began to re-ration supplies, food, and fuel. There was a form that popped up and asked for her to input the new mission parameters so the system could complete its recalculation. She tapped emergency and then put in one hour as the duration of the new mission. Then she notified the system that after the mission, they would be retuning back on course. When she was done, it began recalculating rations.
“What’s the matter?” Ashley heard a voice say behind her. She almost jumped out of her skin, though the most she did was grab her console a little too tighter. Jeryl was close to her now, closer than what people would accept as appropriate. She knew she should enjoy it, but she as too tense for that. Rather, she felt a little irritated, especially after his rash decision. He could had just told her.
“Nothing,” she said, keeping her eyes focused on the rationing.
“I thought this is what you wanted?” he asked again.
Ashley looked around for a moment to see if they were being watched. No one was looking in their direction so she replied.
“Yes.”
“Then why don’t you look happy?” he said.
“Did you do it for me?” she shot back, a little too sharp. She upbraided herself and told herself to remember that he was her captain now.
He didn’t seem to take offense. She doubted he noticed the acrimony in her voice.
“No. But this is what you’ve been pushing for.”
She heaved an impatient sigh and turned to look him in his eyes. She saw that he sincerely wanted to know what was wrong. This made her bite back on the sharp rebuke she was about to shoot his way. Overwhelmed with compassion, she couldn’t help closing her eyes. She didn’t want the crew to see her and the Captain have a moment. But even if they did, what did it matter anymore?
After everything they had done, what did anything matter anymore?
After all the blood on their hands…nothing should shock them anymore.
“It’s not because of what you and I have talked about,” she said in a tone so low that Jeryl craned his neck to hear. “It
’s just…because I had to find out on the CNC. Like any other person.”
She saw his eyes widen. Then he frowned. His frown was only fleeting, and then it dissolved. Right now, she was seeing her husband, not her Captain.
“I’m sorry, Ash. If it’s any consolation, I only found out that this would be our course of action a few minutes ago.”
She nodded, but she was not satisfied. Noticing, he came even closer and put his hand on her waist. Shocked, she jerked away. She looked at him aghast.
He smiled.
“Captain, we’re getting multiple hails from the ships heading to the rendezvous point,” Mary Taylor called from her workstation. This broke the little impasse between her and Jeryl. He wore his Captain face before returning to his seat.
“What do they want?” Captain Jeryl Montgomery asked.
The husband was buried. The lover was gone.
The communications officer turned around in her swivel seat and looked at the captain’s direction. “They want to know why we’ve changed direction.”
“We need to be sure there’s still something in the coordinates before we tell them anything, sir,” Ashley said.
He agreed with her. He told the communications officer to stand by and then went over to Dr. Lannigan’s station.
He stood beside the man and said, “I want you to run a scan of the area we are headed to. I want you to see if you can still detect the debris from The Mariner. I know it has been five years…”
“Sir, that’s a significant amount of time,” the science officer replied. “It’s highly doubtful that we would detect—”
“Run multiple scans across all spectrums,” the captain persisted, cutting him short.
“Sir, even if we can detect it,” the science officer said, “there’s still the issue of motion.”
“Explain.”
The science officer gesticulated as he explained. “Sir, space isn’t static. It’s in a constant state of motion because of gravity. Now, this debris has been in motion due to the gravitational pull of the nearby star for five years. I can assure you that it’s not in the coordinates you’ve supplied. If we scanned the place, we are likely going to come up with false or misleading data.”
