by Trevor Wyatt
He knew that the Admirals in their large, cozy offices didn’t understand the situation like he did. Sometimes, it was easy to act against direct orders and just act on instinct, knowing that whatever happened, he would probably still continue as the captain of the Seeker.
This was one of those moments.
Suddenly, the screen exploded in a splash of white before dissolving into the furious face of Admiral Gan. This time he was sitting behind his desk, leaning on the wide table with his hands fisted into whitening balls. His face was contorted into a frown, and when he spoke, his voice carried a smoky, heated tone.
“Captain Jeryl Montgomery of TUS Seeker,” he boomed through the speakers, causing the CNC to shudder. “Minutes ago, I issued you a direct order not to respond to the Sonali distress signal, but rather to return to Edoris Space Station. My officers told me that you have, in fact, ignored this direct order and proceeded into Tyreesian space, disobeying a direct officer and violating the Terran Armada rules of engagement.
“You have not only demonstrated a lack of discipline and spat on the chain of command that has existed before your petty achievements, you have also undertaken an activity that will be perceived by the Tyreesians, with whom we have a tenuous relation, as an act of war. And—”
The slipstream connection failed.
Jeryl glanced at Lieutenant Taylor.
“What the fuck just happened?” he asked, his voice filled with anger.
“I’m not sure, Captain,” she replied, observing the data on her workstation’s screen. “They were able to override my system, sir. I’ve located the subroutine that gives them unlimited access to our communication grid.”
“It gives them the power to take over our communications systems?” Jeryl asked, standing to his feet and walking over to the comms station.
The comms officer thought about it for a moment, and that while going through the lines of code scrolling through her screen.
“Not the entire system, sir,” Taylor finally replied. “Just the one that allows me to accept or decline hails.”
“Well, take it out,” Jeryl commanded. “I don’t want to have to sit there and listen to all that drivel.”
Lieutenant Taylor gave a silent chuckle as they went about deleting the subroutine from the communications system architecture.
“Captain?” Ashley said behind him. “Can I have a word?”
“Sure, go ahead,” Jeryl said as he turned to her.
She rolled her eyes. “In private, sir.”
“Okay. My office,” he replied.
The captain’s office was adjacent to the CNC, on the right hand side of the view screen, and Ashley led the way. She paused at the door, waiting for Jeryl to go through before she brought up the rear, the door sliding shut behind them.
The room was nowhere as big as Admiral Gan’s office; it was small and compact, although it still had the space for a workstation. Towards the other end of the narrow, longitudinal office was a small desk.
Jeryl headed to his desk and leaned against it.
“What’s up?” he asked his First Officer and wife.
“Why are you doing this, Jeryl?” she asked, her features soft and subdued.
“Because I have to,” he replied. “If I don’t, who will?”
She shook her head.
“No. That’s not it. What I’m trying to ask is, why are you antagonizing the Admiralty? You can’t keep stepping on their feet without them biting back.”
“This has nothing to do with Gan, Ashley,” Jeryl replied. “This has everything to do with what’s right and what’s moral. Gan doesn’t seem to appreciate the precarious situation this ship will put us in if we don’t do something about it.
“They may not realize it, but I’m doing the Terran Union a favor. The Sonali are our allies—shouldn’t we be defending them?”
Ashley folded her arms across her chest. “I don’t like this, Jeryl.”
“Well, the crew seem to be loving it,” Jeryl said.
“The crew loves it because they idolize you. A lot of these guys transferred to this ship. They’ve followed you from afar and now they’re near…they’ll practically fall over for you to walk on by.”
“Is that what you think I’m doing?” Jeryl asked. He was a bit hurt by her assertion.
“Isn’t that what you’re doing?” she replied, her eyes holding Jeryl’s gaze for a long time before it diverted away.
Jeryl stood up from his desk and went around the table to sit on his chair.
“Is that all?” he asked, sounding officious again. She was about to say something as a reply, but then she hesitated. She shook her head and turned to leave.
“Where is the CMO?” he asked her. “I haven’t seen him in the CNC all day.”
“He has some surgical procedures scheduled in sick bay, today, sir,” she replied, her back to the captain. It was her way of telling him that she, too, was displeased with the whole situation.
“When he’s done with the surgeries, inform the chief medical officer that I’ll be leading a boarding party to a distressed Sonali vessel.”
“Yes, Captain,” she said as she walked out of the office.
Jeryl stayed in his office the remaining of the time, working on an exhaustive report of the mission that he was conducting. He knew his actions would be under a lot of scrutiny, and he needed a comprehensively written report that justified what he was doing.
He was putting the finishing touches to his write-up when he heard someone speak through the ship’s comms.
“Communications to Captain Montgomery, come in,” said the voice.
“Go ahead, Lieutenant Taylor,” Jeryl said into the air.
“Sir, you might want to come onto the CNC,” she said. “We’ll be dropping out of FTL in a few minutes.”
“Copy that,” Jeryl said. “Out.”
Jeryl marched into the CNC amidst the rousing announcement from one of the security personnel in the CNC.
As he headed for the Captain’s chair, he caught Ashley’s wary look directed at him. He took the seat and looked around for the CMO, who was supposed to clear everyone going on the boarding party.
“Coming out of FTL space right about now,” the navigator said, pulling back on a right central lever on his work-station.
As smoothly as sliding across ice, the vessel slipped out of FTL into normal space. About fifteen kilometers ahead was a massive ship shaped like a tube, one that grew wider from one end to the other. It stood horizontal in relation to the approaching Armada vessel.
The vessel was adrift in space with nothing in view, not even a moon or a barren rock.
“What can you tell me about that ship, Vu?” Jeryl asked the Science and Exploration Officer.
“Sir, scanners show only one life form is onboard,” Vu replied. “I don’t know if it’s male or female—our scanners can’t detect it. All the systems are down, sir. Not even life support is running. The hull appears to be intact. There doesn’t appear to be any leak anywhere, but I can’t tell for sure since all systems are down. The only thing I can pick up is the distress signal beacon, which tells us the relative location of the control room.”
“Any Tyreesian ship in the vicinity?” Jeryl asked next.
“No, sir,” Vu replied. “The entire system seems to be void of life. We appear to be in one of the outermost areas of the Tyreesian space.”
Jeryl got up to his feet. “Okay. I think it’s time to go take a look.”
At that exact moment, Dr. Mahesh, the chief medical officer walked in.
“No, you don’t, Captain,” Mahesh said. “It’s too dangerous.”
“Nothing dangerous about it, doc,” Jeryl replied with a disarming smile. “I’ll be in and out of it without a scratch.”
“Sir, I must insist,” he replied. “We don’t know what killed the members of that ship. There are no hull markings. There are no signs of a firefight. It may be a virus they came in contact with in the Tyreesian space. You can�
��t go running blindly into that ship. I won’t allow it.”
Jeryl rolled his eyes.
As if you had a say in the matter, he thought.
“Let me go in your stead,” Mahesh said. “I know my way around a space ship. And I have the medical knowledge to understand what happened to the crew.”
Jeryl thought about the importance of what the doctor said. Indeed, maybe he should remain in the ship.
He glanced over to Ashley, who was following their conversation even though she stood over her workstation.
“What do you think, First Officer Gavin?” Jeryl asked.
“Well, I think you should do as he says,” she replied, biting her lips.
Jeryl sighed. “Okay, doc, have a look at it.”
“Wonderful,” the doctor said, a little unsure of himself.
“I’ll come with you,” said Vu. “You’ll need me there. We need to understand why the ship’s system all went down and how to restart them so we can get that ship out of Tyreesian space.”
“I want to go with the party too, sir, if you would allow it,” said Commander Adachi Tomoe, the tactical officer.
“Okay. Go ahead. Keep me posted,” Jeryl said.
“Aye, sir,” the two CNC officers among the away team barked at the same time.
Mahesh simply nodded in a manner that suggested he was agreeing with his decision.
“Alright, boys and girls. Follow me,” Dr. Mahesh said as he led the science and tactical officers off the CNC.
Chapter 3
The team of three boarded the bullet-shaped pod under the harsh glare of the shuttle bay’s overhead floods. The ship maintained a safe distance from the drifting Sonali vessel as per protocol, since they had no idea about what was going on.
“Programming the coordinates of the nearest bay to the control center on the vessel,” muttered Vu, who slouched over a panel at the front of the pod.
Adachi stood behind him, peering over his shoulder. She hoisted an assault rifle over her shoulder, while Vu only carried a pistol.
“How long will it take?” asked Adachi.
“Not long,” replied Vu.
In the time it had taken the team to gear up by wearing EVA suits and carrying the needed equipment, the backup SEO in the CNC kept on investigating the Sonali ship, discovering that it had some sort of a machine that extended the longitudinal length of the ship.
In fact, it appeared that the ship was built with this machine at its core. He suspected that it was some kind of weapon that the Sonali were testing on the Tyreesians. Perhaps the Tyreesians found that out and struck with a secret weapon of their own.
Mahesh hated everything about war. His torrid upbringing in the backsides of India, seeing the devastation of the Third World War a century ago, and his pacifist medical training at the Academy had done everything to culture his mind and spirit to have a peaceful outlook toward life.
He saw what war could do to people. He saw the tears, the pain, the excruciating loss…and it never failed to break his heart in two when he had to tell a fellow crew mate that their friend, wife, or loved one wouldn’t make it through the night. He stood over the bodies of countless young officers to pronounce their death, and it never became easier.
He hated war and all its instruments. If it weren’t for the fact that he trusted Jeryl, Mahesh would have quit the Armada and established a private practice on some cool and quiet world deep within the Terran Union, far from any volatile region.
But alas, he was still the chief medical officer on board one of the most combustible vessels in the Terran Union. He could imagine the number of people who were lining up to bomb or destroy the Seeker for all it had done since Jeryl became its captain. A small population of the Sonali still held grudges for some of the things the Armada did during the ghastly Earth-Sonali War. These ones would jump at an opportunity to destroy the Seeker.
That was one reason why the names of all past and present crew of the Seeker and their involvement with the missions of the vessel, including their service records, were classified. No one could access that information without the right security clearance.
“We’re ready to go, doc,” said Vu, calling the doctor’s attention back to the pod.
“Right.”
Mahesh went over to the opened pod and tapped the close button. The ramp retreated off the ground and sealed the pod, plunging them into darkness.
Immediately, the pod trembled into life, its engines firing up. They all strapped into three of the five seats. The pod was a point to point transport system, hence there wasn’t a need for a pilot to control it. The pod was useful for missions like this, where EVA suits didn’t allow for the maneuverability that the shuttle affords and demands.
“Away team to the CNC, come in,” Vu said into his comm.
“Go ahead, Lieutenant Commander Le,” replied the communications officer.
“Requesting permission to depart.”
“Granted,” she replied. “Good luck.”
Vu hit the launch button and an explosion blasted by the rear of the pod, sending them into the other direction at a ferocious speed. They shot through space like a bullet, cutting through nothingness at almost the speed of sound.
Dr. Mahesh craned his neck, fighting the enormous pressure being exerted on his body, to look at the view screen by the panel in the front of the pod. The Sonali vessel got bigger and bigger until it filled up the screen, continually expanding before them. From afar, it looked smooth, but as they came close it began to resolve into sections, metallic offshoots and bulkheads.
It looked like an ugly mismatching of hull plating, engines and tiny thrusters spread around the ship like a coating.
They changed course several times, each time slowing by at least a quarter of their speed. Soon enough they slowed to a crawl, eventually ducking through an open maw into a dark shuttle bay.
The pod landed gently in the hollow interior. Vu pressed a set of buttons, and the entire shuttle bay was illuminated with light from the pod.
“Make sure your EVA suit is active,” Mahesh ordered. Since he was the highest ranking officer in the away team, he was the one in charge.
They all checked their EVA suits to see if they were functional before they opened the hatch. The result was immediate. A sudden pressure sucked all the air out of the ship, sending Mahesh into the air and out of control.
Adachi caught the man’s flailing legs before he was sucked right out of the pod, through the length of the shuttle bay and out the airlock.
The pressure died out once there was no more atmosphere in the pod. They walked out and began exploring the shuttle bay. Adachi studied the walls of the ship for signs of weapons use, while scanning the atmosphere with her tablet for signs of particle or energy discharge.
Vu plugged into the nearest terminal by the wall—which was a shuttle bay terminal— and began his own investigation.
Mahesh looked around the shuttle bay, the powerful beam of light from his EVA suit providing light for as far as fifty meters. The shuttle bay was large enough to fit a small sized corvette. It looked impeccable…except, of course, for the litter of Sonali bodies.
There were dozens of them, their hollow eyes sending a shiver up Mahesh’s spine.
He scanned the bodies, his heart picking up the pace. He had his suspicions on the cause of death, but waited for his scanner to tell him what had happened to these Sonali.
The scan finished, displaying its result on the small display screen: asphyxiation. They died of suffocation. Something to do with the life support system; with it gone, the atmosphere in the ship wouldn’t be breathable for too long, and the pressure would no longer be maintained.
Dr. Mahesh looked up at the wide archway that led straight and deeper into the ship. There was a smaller hallway to the right and left of the shuttle bay that led along the longitudinal section of the ship.
He wondered about two things: one, how many people were on this ship when the life support system went
awry—and two, what exactly happened to it?
Dr. Mahesh approached the mouth of the archway ahead. It was like a massive ring, leading into a hallway of the same size. The hallway was short lived as it ended in a parallel hallway and a metal circular shielding protecting the core that ran the length of the ship.
Vu came over to Mahesh’s side.
“I got nothing,” he muttered with a confused tone. “I don’t understand. The entire architecture of the ship’s systems are all gone. There’s no life in this ship—and I mean that literally. The ship is dead.”
“Dead?” Mahesh asked.
“Yes,” Vu replied. “I’m still going to have to access the control center and plug in. But my initial impression is that this ship is more than ready to be hauled into a scrapyard.”
The thought caused Mahesh to shudder again.
They all proceeded to the shield casing and started walking in one direction. It turned out that the hallway by the casing extended its entire length on both sides and provided passageways to cross into the other side at both ends of the ship.
The silence in the ship was deafening, and the darkness was profound. It was hard to imagine such a massive ship to be empty and dead. They saw several other bodies, some along the metal shielding, some in adjacent hallways and rooms they explored. All Mahesh’s scans showed was that they had all died of the same primary cause, which was asphyxiation.
They got to the end of the metal shielding, where there was a huge panel board and a wide screen. There was also a wide area and an elevator that led up to the control room.
Vu tried operating the panel to no avail. He plugged into the system and began his scan.
“What I don’t get,” Vu said, “is how the distress beacon works if the ship is dead.”
No one answered him because no one had the answer he was looking for. After a few minutes of tinkering with the spread of buttons on the panel and his device, he unplugged it, giving off a pronounced exasperation.
