Impulse

by Dave Bara

  “Commanded by Carinthians. You’d be smart to remember that.” Then she started for the door.

  “Wait,” I said, “I need to know—” she interrupted me.

  “How I beat you here?” she finished. “It’s very simple, young man.” She paused, then said, “I just took a faster shuttle.”

  Again, I was mad, but I hit back fast. “Of course you did. Your travel here came without too much discomfort, I hope?” I asked, alluding to our fencing match and her wounded bottom.

  “I am a bit sore,” she admitted. “But I’ve had worse.”

  “Of course you have.”

  “Now, can we get on with things?” she said.

  “Lead the way,” I said. And with that, a new cycle of learning on the job began.

  Aboard H.M.S Impulse

  An hour later I was in my cabin, arguing with Claus Poulsen.

  “But you have to wear it, sir. Captain Zander won’t stand for anything but the regs being followed,” he insisted, rather excitedly. Poulsen stood on the far side of my bed, which was big enough for two and had an elaborate wooden headboard. Commander Dobrina Kierkopf sat at the foot of the bed, admiring my unworn green Carinthian commander’s uniform.

  “You would be well advised to listen to him, Cochrane,” she said. I turned away from my closet, where I had been busy hanging my clothes and filling my racks with my personal belongings. The stateroom I had been assigned was of course much larger and more elaborate than Poulsen had let on, but I decided he probably didn’t know any better. He’d never seen a QRN ship and probably never would.

  My stateroom had a separate sleeping area with the closet, bed, and a small chest of drawers built in to the wall. The working area had a workstation complete with a desk, a monitor, chairs, and a sofa facing the bed. I also had a private bath with sink, shower, and separate privy. Luxurious by Quantar standards, standard issue by Carinthian. Though I wouldn’t have asked for such accommodations, I wouldn’t turn them down either. Rank hath its privileges.

  I turned back to Poulsen and Kierkopf.

  “I won’t wear it,” I said, “not as long as you two and Zander and all the rest insist on wearing your planetary colors. It would be wrong,” I said. “And besides that, there’s the issue of honoring my world and the sailors we lost.”

  “Those sailors knew how to follow protocol,” said Kierkopf. I looked at her sharply.

  “I doubt my countrymen paraded around the decks of Impulse in Carinthian green, Commander,” I snapped at her.

  I dropped the shirt I was folding onto the bed and looked to each of them in turn. “This is supposed to be the Unified Space Navy. If none of you wear USN whites, I won’t either, and I won’t wear the green. It’s as simple as that,” I said, then returned to my unpacking.

  Commander Kierkopf stood and crossed her arms in front of her. “You’re a stubborn young man,” she said.

  “It’s a family trait,” I replied. She took in a deep breath.

  “Cochrane, I’m trying to help you out here,” she said. “Zander will have you on his status report every day as a malcontent. His reports carry weight with the navy brass. You’ll find your next promotion a lot more difficult to come by with him opposing you,” she said. I stopped again and faced my two new compatriots.

  “It’s odds on my next promotion won’t come on this vessel anyway,” I said. “I don’t think Zander is close to retiring and I doubt you’ll be going anywhere soon, Commander, so what difference will it make? Navy brass will at least want us to appear to work together. Zander’s insistence that we all wear Carinthian green on board goes against that unity, and I would not be honoring my family, my world, or the USN if I gave in.”

  “But we all wear the USN patches on our sleeves and chest. There’s no planetary insignia or family crest anywhere,” insisted Poulsen. I looked at him again. I could see he took this issue seriously, but I wanted him to know that I did as well.

  “Fine then,” I said. I took my QRN-issue navy jacket from the closet and handed it to Poulsen, then picked up the Carinthian green jacket off the bed. “Have the USN patches and crest removed from the green jacket and attach them to my QRN jacket. Just make sure it’s back here in time for my bridge duty, and please return my family crest to me here.”

  “But, sir!” Poulsen protested as I shoved the jackets into his hands.

  “That’s my final word, Poulsen, and that’s an order. Now get!” I pointed to the door.

  Poulsen took the two jackets in one hand and snapped to attention, but I could see he wasn’t happy. “Aye, sir,” he said, and then was gone through the cabin doors.

  Commander Kierkopf eyed me with what I took as a mix of admiration and pity.

  “I hope you know what you’re doing,” she said. I laughed.

  “Oh, I don’t. I’ve no idea actually. But I know who I am and why I was put here, and I intend to stand up for my kinsmen and my flag and my country if I have to. I just didn’t think I would be put in this position by my captain.”

  “Zander’s a tough man to work for,” she said.

  “So I’ve heard.”

  She smiled and stepped around to my side of the bed, placing her duty beret back on her head as she prepared to leave. It was a pleasant smile that lit up her face, if only for a brief moment. She was no beauty, but I could see what any man might see in her. She was lithe and athletic, with a very feminine body that provided a sharp contrast to her masculine demeanor, which I supposed was necessary in the navy. “I admire your dedication, Cochrane,” she said. “I just hope it doesn’t get you into too much trouble.”

  I nodded in agreement. “Me too.”

  “I’ll let you finish,” she said, turning to go, “but I’ll be back later to discuss your first day on duty.”

  “I assume as third I’ll have my share of long hours covering for both you and Zander.”

  She smiled again. “Oh, you will. Better take the time to get settled now.”

  I nodded as she went to the door, then something else came to mind. “Commander, before you leave, there is one more thing I’d like to discuss,” I said. She stopped before opening the cabin door.

  “Yes?” she said. I hesitated.

  “You were in the Academy class of ’74. So was my brother Derrick. I was wondering if you knew him.” Her smile cracked just slightly at this, barely but noticeably nonetheless.

  “That’s nothing that I’m willing to discuss,” she said, cutting me off. Then she went swiftly through the door, shutting it firmly behind her. I had an answer to my question, and I wasn’t sure I liked it.

  I called a late breakfast meeting of the QRN commissioned staff at 1030 hours. Commander Kierkopf had provided a small, separate space in the officers’ dining room for me and my six Quantar Royal Navy reports. Marine Corporal John Marker sat next to me at the head of the table and across from Impulse’s new chief helmsman, Lt. George Layton. Lieutenants Cort Drury from Propulsion, Brice Devlin from Engineering, Evangeline Goolagong, my intelligence officer, and of course Wesley’s niece, Jenny Hogan of Astrogation, completed the team. Hogan looked incredibly young to me, but her navy bio said she was twenty and she had met the required minimum rating for early qualification, so Wesley had graduated her, and assigned me to watch over her, which I intended to do.

  The noncommissioned officers, a warrant officer, two chiefs, and three specialist starmen, all of them the “experienced spacers” Wesley had promised me, had already been assigned and were busy with their new duties.

  We’d been at lunch for nearly half an hour just getting to know each other better and going over our assignments. We had barely an hour left before they were due on duty, so I decided to wrap things up. I looked down the table at the faces before me, all of them except Hogan at least a year senior to me, Marker a good three.

  “This is the only time we’ll meet like this,”
I said.

  “What? Why?” asked Layton. Layton was a likeable fellow, but he wasn’t above challenging a superior within the boundaries of his duty. It was a quality I liked about him.

  “Because, Mr. Layton, we should associate with the regular crew, not isolate ourselves,” I said. “Commander Kierkopf only gave me this time so we could get to know each other better. I consider that task accomplished.”

  “I think you’re right, Commander,” said Marker. “Our officers should be seen about the ship, doing their duty, not hiding out together in a clique. I’m in a little bit of a different situation. I should be training with my new team full-time. It’s the marine way.”

  I nodded in agreement. Marker was fit beyond belief, and in physical comparison I felt like a child sitting next to him. If he wanted to train with his marines full-time I wasn’t going to stop him.

  I looked down the table at the rest of them and started to ask for final reports before calling the meeting to a close. “Evangeline, any new intelligence that you can share?” She smiled, her beautiful white teeth flashing against deep brown skin.

  “There’s been some longwave chatter and newsnet postings, mostly from merchants operating on the edge of old Imperial space,” she said.

  “What kind of chatter?” I asked. She shrugged.

  “Rumors, mostly. Some snippets about ‘ghost ships’ shadowing merchant vessels, usually when they jump into or out of the Union systems. Like they’re being watched. One even swore he saw an Imperial dreadnought. It just seems the closer we get to the old battle lines from the civil war the more these reports crop up.”

  “That’s a concern,” I said. No doubt the closer we got to Imperial treaty space the more likely we would run into some kind of unidentified traffic. I wondered how many of the rumored “ghosts” were actually Imperial ships, or worse, pirates. I tried to smile confidently. “Well Levant was well on our side of the line, so hopefully things will go smoother there than the last time Impulse ventured in.”

  “Not worried about rogue hyperdimensional displacement waves, sir?” asked Marker.

  “Always, John,” I replied. “But that can’t stop us from doing our jobs.” There were nods all around and then I made my final point. “We all have to remember that although Quantar and Carinthia were on separate sides during the civil war that broke up the Corporate Empire, we’re both part of the Union now along with Earth. As we explore new systems and rediscover others, old wounds from the conflict are likely to crop up. We have to deal with that, and we have to present a unified front, no matter what our personal feelings on the matter.” Again there were nods. I asked Jenny Hogan, Drury, and Devlin to quickly give their reports and then we all broke up for our duty stations. On their way out I signaled Marker and Layton, my closest associates, to stay behind for a moment, then shut the door to make sure we had privacy, retaking my seat at the head of the table.

  “Mr. Marker, please make sure the marines under your command are ready for Levant. I don’t know what to expect, but I think Zander does, and it’s not good,” I said.

  “Trouble ahead, sir?” he asked.

  “Likely,” I replied.

  “What’s the real story?” chimed in Layton. I debated not telling them about my orders from Wesley, then decided I had to give them some kind of warning.

  “There may be some complications ahead, gentlemen, and I’m going to be needing your help,” I said.

  “What kind of complications?” asked Layton, pressing for more information.

  “The kind none of us want,” I said, then poured myself the last of the orange juice as I let that sink in. I looked at them both, and spoke in as serious a tone as I could muster. “I need you both to make a commitment to me personally that if you receive private orders from me during this mission, you will follow them unquestioningly. Do I have that?”

  They exchanged looks of concern.

  “Yes, sir,” said Marker. Layton hesitated.

  “It would help to know under what kind of circumstances we might be receiving these private orders, sir,” he said.

  “I can’t tell you that, George,” I said, “for your own good.” Layton eyed me, reading my face, then looked to Marker, whose glare at him was intense, then nodded.

  “I will, sir,” he said. I reached out and shook both men’s hands.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  A tap at the door interrupted us and Commander Kierkopf came into the room.

  “I was just leaving, Commander,” said Layton, making a quick exit. Marker followed silently with barely a nod to Impulse’s exec. Passing behind her, he stopped at the door to turn and wink back at me before he left. I couldn’t help smiling. Commander Kierkopf turned quickly but Marker was already gone.

  “Did I just miss something?” she said.

  “Nothing important,” I replied. “What’s up?”

  “The Earth Historian is ready to meet with you,” she said.

  “Tralfane? Now? I was beginning to think this ship didn’t have a Historian,” I said.

  Her smile returned quickly. “We should be so lucky.”

  I set my glass down on the table. “What about my shift at noon?”

  “I’ll cover for you with Zander,” she offered, “He understands the situation, what with the longscope being Earth technology and all, and he did order you to meet with Tralfane.”

  I rubbed at my chin. “That he did,” I said. She eyed me as I stayed put at the head of the table.

  “Do I detect hesitancy in the brave young Quantar commander?” she asked.

  “You do not, madam,” I said. Her behavior toward me seemed very ambivalent, but despite our rough start I felt she was warming up to me. I started for the door.

  “Walk with me, Commander?” I asked. She did as I requested, taking her place next to me as we made our way out of officer country and down the Promenade, heading toward the ship’s library and the realm of the mysterious Historian Tralfane.

  “I was close to Serosian, the Historian assigned to Starbound,” I said.

  “How close?” she asked.

  “Close enough to know there are many secrets the Earthmen built into these vessels we know nothing about. It’s technology we can’t even comprehend. Usually the Historian and the ’scope officer work closely together, if not in tandem. I trained with Serosian for three years. I picked up on more than a few signals from him.”

  “Signals?” she asked. I nodded as we walked.

  “Enough to know that the technological secrets within this ship are only a beginning. There are far greater secrets our new allies are keeping from us.”

  “I don’t follow you,” she said. I slowed my pace before making my next statement, thinking about how far I could go. I liked Commander Kierkopf, and trusted her to be a loyal officer, to Zander at least, and to the USN, if not to me personally. I felt she was a risk worth taking.

  “Has it occurred to you, Commander Kierkopf, that perhaps we here on Impulse and the other Lightships are in reality not in command of these missions, but are in fact just pawns for the Earthmen?”

  “Pawns?” she stopped me with her hand on my arm. “What do you mean?”

  “I am a bit of a student of history,” I said. “The war that caused the Great Regression, our war, Carinthia and the Corporate Empire versus Quantar and the Republics—was it in fact about republicanism versus empire, Union versus Royalist, or was it something more? The Church, perhaps, using the royal families of the realm to fight as surrogates in a much subtler conflict?”

  She began walking again, more slowly, considering my words. I followed beside her.

  “If such a conflict existed, and I’m not saying I believe that it did, what form would it take?” she asked.

  “A war between the Holy Church and their true enemies.”

  “Who are?” I could see she was
growing impatient with the conversation.

  “Legion,” I said. She narrowed her eyes at me, doubting now. “Have you ever heard of the Sri?” I asked.

  “The Sri? A bit, I suppose. Weren’t they priests of some kind in the Corporate Empire?” she asked.

  I nodded. “Of a sort. They were founded many centuries ago by a group of research scientists on Old Earth, or at least that’s what Serosian told me. They followed the first explorers out into space, as their kind always do. Apparently they were of some influence in the Dragon Court, especially in the latter days of the war. It seems as though they did a good job of wiping themselves from the history books after the war.”

  “All very interesting, but the civil war ended a century and a half ago. What does that have to do with us, today?” she asked. I had an answer.

  “The old Holy Church of Earth banned certain activities, certain sciences, during the Conclave of 2284 C.E. Recombining DNA into bonding groups, human cloning, bio-nanotechnology, and certain mentallic arts. The Sri are said to be experts in all of them, and they use their knowledge—forbidden knowledge—to advance their cause.”

  She stopped again. “Which is?”

  “That’s harder to decipher,” I said honestly. “Legends say they have tried to establish a group mind, that they want to turn mankind into a single entity. Ruled by them, of course.”

  “Of course,” she said, walking slowly again. “The funny thing about legends is that they have a way of gathering strength simply through their retelling. All very interesting, Commander, but as yet unconvincing.”

  I had to agree with her. I leaned in close and spoke softly. “One more thing, Commander. Be aware that if it’s a choice between our mission and the mission of the Historians, I have no doubt that they will act in their own best interests.”

  She looked at me with a frown on her face, but said nothing. We were approaching the library doors and I still had one more question to ask of her.

  “There is another matter I have to ask you about,” I said. She stopped now and stepped in my path, like a challenge.