The Seeker: A Pax Aeterna Novel

by Trevor Wyatt

  Ashley is by my side now. She’s looking at my tablet, so I twist my wrist so she gets a better look. “But why go there?” she asks me in a whisper.

  Everyone’s attention is still focused on me, but I address my 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.”

  Chapter 27

  Ashley

  I know I should be happy and excited.

  After all, throughout our flight to this quadrant, I’ve campaigned against the brutality of the Wolf Offensive. Right now, though, I’m neither happy nor excited. If anything I am exhausted.

  I nod my acquiescence to the Captain and return to my station. I make like I'm okay with his decision, though I still feel a bit hurt. I feel hurt because his decision is coming as a shock to me. He had told me how he felt about the Wolf Offensive, agreeing with me in the confines of our quarters. Now, he’s going ahead to effect a change to our flight plan based on what? I wonder what made him change his mind so fast.

  “We need to find out the truth,” he says aloud. “Not our truth. Not something we assumed to be true. We need to find out the truth.”

  Oddly, everyone nods their head in agreement. Some even mutter their agreement. I snatch a glance at him to find that he’s looking at me. I return my gaze to my console and remain passive. I can feel him looking at me. I can almost hear him ask me what the problem is.

  I squint.

  “Course plotted and ready to execute, sir,” the navigator officer says.

  “Go ahead, Henry. Take us there.”

  There is a sharp whine as the Battle Cruise begins to change course at FTL factor four. Before long we are on course to the coordinates the captain has shared. I begin to wonder what awaits us out there.

  I begin to feel my unease subside. But that doesn’t happen because I’m finally going to know the truth. It subsides because another emotion rises in my mind.

  Fear.

  What are we going to find there? Most people are afraid of their past, and I’m no different. I'm about to face it head-on, and I’m not sure if I’m ready to face it. What if we find out that the Sonali hadn’t destroyed The Mariner?

  What do we do then?

  I get a notification on my console that a course correction has been completed, and that this has affected our mission profile. The system begins to re-ration supplies, food, and fuel. There’s a form that pops for me to input the new mission parameters so the system can complete its recalculation. I tap emergency and then input one hour as the duration of the new mission. Then I notify the system that after the mission, we are retuning back on course. When I am done, it begins recalculating rations.

  “What’s the matter?” I hear a voice say behind me. I almost jump out of my skin, though the most I do is grab my console a little to tighter. Jeryl’s close to me now, closer that what people would accept as appropriate. I know I should enjoy it, but I am too tense for that. Rather, I feel a little irritated, especially after his rash decision. He could’ve just told me.

  “Nothing,” I say, keeping my eyes focused on the rationing.

  “I thought this is what you wanted?” he asks again.

  I look around for a moment to see if we are being watched. No one is looking in our direction so I reply. “Yes.”

  “Then why don’t you look happy?” he says.

  “Did you do it for me?” I shoot back, a little too sharp. I upbraid myself and tell myself to remember that he’s my captain now.

  He doesn’t seem to take offense. I doubt he notices the acrimony in my voice. “No. But this is what you’ve been pushing for.”

  I heave an impatient sigh and turn to look him in his eyes. I see that he sincerely wants to know what’s up with me. This makes me bite back on the sharp rebuke I'm about to shoot his way. Overwhelmed with compassion, I can’t help closing my eyes. I don’t want the crew to see me and the Captain have a moment. But even if they do, what does it matter anymore?

  After everything we’ve done, what does anything matter anymore?

  After the blood we have on our hands…nothing should shock us anymore.

  “It’s not because of what you and I have talked about,” I say in a tone so low that Jeryl cranes his neck to hear. “It’s just…because I had to find out on the CNC. Like any other person.”

  I see his eyes widen. Then he frowns. His frown is only fleeting, and then it dissolves. Right now, I’m seeing my husband, not my captain. “I’m sorry, Ash. If it’s any consolation, I only found out this would be our course of action a few minutes ago.”

  I nod, but I’m not satisfied. Noticing it, he comes even closer and puts his hand on my waist. Shocked, I jerk away. I look at him aghast.

  He smiles.

  “Captain, we’re getting multiple hails from the ships heading to the rendezvous point,” Mary Taylor calls from her workstation. This breaks the little impasse between me and Jeryl. He wears his Captain face before returning to his seat.

  “What do they want?” Captain Jeryl Montgomery asks. The husband is buried. The lover is gone.

  The communications officer turns around in her swivel seat and looks in 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,” I say.

  He agrees with me. He tells the communications officer to standby and then walks over to Dr. Lannigan’s station.

  He stands beside the man and says, “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 replies. “It’s highly doubtful that we would detect --.”

  “Run multiple scans across all spectrum,” the captain persists, cutting him short.

  “Sir, even if we can detect it,” the science officer offers, “there’s still the issue of motion.”

  “Explain.”

  The science officer gesticulates as he explains. “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.

  “Plus, there’s the problem of degradation. The debris would have undergone a massive amount of degradation over these five years. Even if we located the debris, and we won’t, at least not in the current coordinate, it may not offer the solution we seek.”

  I cringe at the officer’s effrontery. I am about to reprimand him before the captain does something worse like relieving him of duty. But he beats me to it.

  “I understand all you’ve explained,” Jeryl says to the science officer. “Proceed with the scans.”

  “Docherty, proceed along the current course,” the Captain vocalizes above Dr. Lannigan’s protest. The Junior Science Officer looks at the navigator and then nods his assent. “That’s where the Mariner once was. We’re going to follow it this time until the end. No Sonali ship will stop us.”

  There is a finality to his voice.

  I wonder what has gotten into him. There’s a whole new different vibe about him. He returns to his seat, where his tablet sits, and picks up the device. He mutters to himself as he inputs data into it.

  He walks over to Docherty.

  “Can we create a flight path that mimics the movement of the Mariner’s debris movement under the gravity in the area? Something that would show me where the Mariner would be at this time if it maintained its heading without interference? “

  “Yes, sir,” he replies. “It’s going to take some time.”

  “Do it,” he says.

  “Sir, we have a priority one message from the senior captain on site
at the rendezvous,” says the communications officer.

  Jeryl returns to his seat.

  “On screen.”

  A section of the view screen metamorphoses into a view of a CNC roughly the same size as ours … maybe a bit smaller. Standing in an empty captain seat is a bulky man in his mid-forties with a clean shaven head and a mean expression.

  “Captain Soduku,” Jeryl says, his voice tight and commanding.

  “Sir, are you okay?” the man says, his tone completely devoid of any sympathy. “We noticed a course deviation that takes you away from the rendezvous. Is your navigations AI acting up? Do you require assistance?”

  “No, Captain,” Jeryl replies. “Everything’s fine. We are following up on a new lead. Please standby.” Then the visual feeds end.

  “They will ask questions,” I say out loud. “It won’t be long before we start getting slipstream hails from Armada Command.”

  “Let them call,” he replies, as much for the benefit of the CNC crew as it is for me. “We’re not going anywhere until The Seeker accomplishes its original mission. We’re going to find out what happened to the Mariner.”

  I hear the unspoken words that only I can tell because he’s my husband.

  ‘If we have to die trying,’ he was going to say.

  Well I suppose today is as good a day as any.

  Chapter 28

  Jeryl

  I may sound calm and collected. I may look cool. Don’t be deceived.

  The difference between what I feel and what my face shows is like the difference between night and day. Sometimes I have to force myself to breathe because the tension shooting through my veins has me distracted from it. There’s fear too—the kind of fear that might turn into terror. But I have to remain strong and clear if we’re going to make it through.

  I know Ashely doesn’t agree with me. However, her opinion doesn’t count right now. The only person’s opinion I am willing to consider is First Officer Fire’s. I need her speaking to me as a Commander in the Armada, and not as the wife of a captain.

  I look around to see if I’m being observed by any of the crew mates. No one is watching me except, of course, the three security officers on the CNC.

  “Helm,” I say from my seat. “Show us the deviation in our course from that of the Fleet. Put it on visual.”

  The image comes up and I look up at it. The view of the energy shield around the ship is superimposed upon by a transparent map of the sector. I see three headings represented by short dashes. One is our previous heading which pretty much enters the nebula from the lower left and maintains a straight bearing to the upper left portion, where there are twenty one dots representing the ships predetermined course and rendezvous location.

  I see another bearing veering off from a certain point along the original bearing to the right. It terminates in a single dot, which appears to be in the right central portion of the map. Then I see a proposed bearing from where we are along the second bearing. This proposed bearing veers a little back to the left and terminates at the right corner of the map. It’s in the total opposite direction of where the fleet was headed to for the mission.

  I realize with a fresh onslaught of nerve wrecking terror that, if I pursue the course I’m laying down for the ship, we’re going to be travelling away from the fleet. That means if we run into trouble there’ll be no help or backup. If we’re able to get information across to the fleet for help, it’ll take them a long while to get to us, by which time we may be decimated by the same thing, whatever it was, that decimated the Mariner.

  “Sir, you do realize that the course will take us away from the fleet?” Ashely says from her console. “It will put is in the direct opposite direction of the fleet plus out of range should anything go wrong.”

  “I realize that,” I say. I glance at the navigator who has all the while been looking at me. “Set the course as amended and take us to that coordinate.”

  Without giving a fuss, he nods and returns his attention to his station. He issues the necessary commands to his system and there is a sharp whine as the Battle Cruise begins to change course. I get a call from engineering.

  “Hi, Robert,” I say in my friendliest voice.

  “What the hell is going on up there, Jeryl,” the chief engineer says. Aside from Ashley, he’s the only one crazy enough to call me by my first name.

  “Sorry, we have to make a course correction,” I say, sympathetic.

  “Well, when you boggarts decide to make a course change during FTL space, do remember to inform engineering. You just might destroy our FTL drive in the process and leave us a drifting mass in space.”

  I allow a strained smile on my face, even though this is only an audio communication. “Roger that, Robert.”

  “Robert, out.”

  “Status update,” I say, when I realize the ship’s whine is over.

  “Course adjusted, sir,” the navigator says. “We are en-route to the estimated position of the debris of Mariner based on the gravitation pull of the nearest star and the reduction in mass due to degradation.”

  “Very good,” I reply. “Dr. Taft, keep your eyes on the sensors. I want you scanning that area with all you’ve got.” I know the man is about to protest, so I continue, “I know you don’t agree with this course of action. Your disagreement has been noted and will be inputted in the logs for this mission. But damn it, just do as I say. Inform me if you see anything unusual.”

  “Aye, Captain,” he replies.

  “Captain?” This from Henry, another CNC officer that’s monitoring navigations.

  “Go ahead, Lieutenant,” I say.

  “I just wanted to let you know that Dr. Taft Lannigan provided me with the equation to account for change in gravitational pull as a result of reduction in mass.”

  “Oh?” I reply. “How is that significant?”

  “Mass determine gravitation pull, sir,” the navigator replies. “The heavier an object, the more force gravity exerts on it. Also, the lighter an object it, the lesser the force gravity exerts on it. Now, the Mariner debris has experienced severe atrophy over the course of five years. With this, the gravitation pull has constantly reduced, and with this its velocity.”

  “I see,” I reply. “Without accounting for mass degradation, you most likely would have ended up with a wrong coordinate?”

  He nods and says, “But I didn’t…thanks to Taft.”

  “Good job, guys,” I say.

  “Captain,” the communications officer calls. “I’m receiving priority one slipstream alert from Armada Command. They have been informed that we’re proceeding and not deviating from our alternate course, and of our sudden change in course and request to be advised of our situation.”

  “Noted,” I say.

  There’s a silence, a tense one.

  “What reply should I send?”

  “Ignore the message,” I say, to the collective shock of the entire CNC crew. I notice that only the security personnel don't show any outward response to what I just said. I wonder if they’d shoot me if I revolt against the Terran Armada. I don’t think there is a policy for that just yet.

  “Sir, I have some information for you,” the tactical officer pronounces. This gets my attention.

  I turn in my seat to face the officer. “Go ahead, lieutenant.”

  “This current course is going to affect our battle readiness on all fronts, sir, based on my projection.”

  “Uh-huh,” I mutter. “How so?”

  “First we are entering the nebula at this point. This means our communications capability will be severely hampered. Also, the radiation from the stars will affect our defensive screens. We will be losing some of our ability to defend yourself in the case of an attack.”

  “Noted, Lieutenant,” I reply. I turn to the navigator. “Is there any way we can amend our course to reduce some of these effects and still arrive at our destination?”

  He shakes his head. “Negative, sir. This is the best laid out cour
se that takes us to the extrapolated position of the Mariner debris.”

  “Okay, proceed, then,” I say.

  In my periphery vision, I notice Ashely walk toward me.

  “Captain, can I have a word with you in private?” she asks me, her words just a whisper.

  “Okay,” I say. “My office.”

  Without replying to me, she turns and leaves.

  I make my way into my office, my heart beating like a war drum.

  Ashley is already talking the moment I walk in. “Sir, I get what you’re trying to do. But you need to step back and think for a moment. Is this really the right course of action? Look, I’m on your side. Never doubt that for a moment. All I’m trying to do is to keep you from making an even greater mistake.”

  I wipe the sweat off my brow. “Look, I have no problem with the Sonali planet the fleet is headed to destroy. I’m willing to do whatever needs to be done…but that only after I know the truth about the Mariner.” I can’t let it go. As captain of this ship it’s my responsibility to exhaust all the option before committing to a very terrible act.

  This is simply what I am doing.

  “Are you?” she says, questioning my resolve. “Look, sometimes in war we have to do things…” she sighs, rolling her eyes at the ceiling. “I can’t believe I’m saying this but it’s true. We’re an unlucky generation.”

  I approach her and hold her shoulders in my hands. “I’m fine, Ash. Don’t worry about me. I want to make sure I have a solid reason to go ahead with this. Think about this for a moment. We’ve been fighting these guys for five years and never during that period have they demonstrated a capability that equals what we deduced from the Mariner’s destruction. They are, to an extent, more powerful than Terran warships, but not to the point where they can create beams as destructive as whatever obliterated the Mariner.”

  Ashley isn’t convinced. “We may have to accept it’s the Sonali in the end. You may not find what you’re looking for.”