phil jones2

by J. R. Karlsson

  Phil looked up at a completely relaxed Darwin lounging in his chair.

  'Er... Captain, we're still transmitting.'

  Darwin looked over at someone off-screen. 'Transmitting what? I thought I warned you about that before...'

  'No sir, the transmission is still open, they can still hear and see us until you end it.'

  'I see.' Darwin said, and didn't say anything else as the uncomfortable silence grew. 'You can turn it off now, there's nothing more to see here.'

  Phil obliged him, realising that while he was dealing with a dangerous man, Captain Darwin's threats had lost some of their impact on account of his being an idiot.

  The view screen defaulted to the sight of the Scavenger blasting off into hyper warp to some unknown destination, leaving them alone and drifting amongst the asteroids.

  'As... surprised as I am to admit this, but it appears that your tactic was successful, Ensign. You are to be commended.' Smith said.

  'Thank you sir.' a jittery Hawkins replied, seemingly back to normal after his brief flirtation with command. 'You wouldn't mind if someone else gives the orders now, would you?' he added, cracking a nervous smile.

  'I believe that decision remains in the hands of our Captain.'

  Phil looked at both of them staring at him, waiting for the next decision to come and wondering how he could possibly fight against the glove-wearer, buffoon or not.

  'We shall continue as we mean to go on.' he finally said. 'Set hyperwarp coordinates to Voravian space once again. We have a war to avert.'

  Chapter 38

  Tracking! Bait! Egg-nog!

  There was simply no feasible way to get to the vessel now that it had entered a dreaded asteroid field, naturally this had given Darwin no choice but to disengage and offer the traitors and their would-be Captain some chilling words that would remain with them the rest of their days.

  Well, they would have if the communications officer had any sense of dramatic timing. Even Darwin suspected that their knowing he was quoting a motion picture verbatim may have damaged the effect the speech would have upon the crew of the unnamed traitor vessel full of traitors. Nevertheless, he remained determined to either destroy or court-martial the fools for their insubordination. The indignity of being hurled out of an airlock into space was a nightmare that constantly plagued him since the last incident with the Voravians. He shuddered to think of what would happen to him if he ended up in their hands yet again, even now couldn't bring himself to complete a mission report for Admiral Burroughs.

  'Sir, we're going to be heading out of range soon.' one of his new Ensigns reported to him. Or was he a Cadet? He hadn't a clue what the man was called, to Darwin names were things that were earned through doing notable enough deeds. Everyone else was just background noise that got in the way.

  He scratched his head. He knew he had forgotten something, but whatever it was just didn't seem to want to float into view, instead images of the other new Ensign were forming in his mind.

  'Do you want me to initiate, sir?' the Lieutenant asked him this time, disturbing him from distinctly unprofessional thoughts.

  'What?' he looked up at the man, but still didn't have a bloody clue what he was talking about. 'What initiation? What are you talking about?'

  His Lieutenant shifted uncomfortably. 'The er... tracking device, sir. The one that you gave the go-ahead for so that we could track the rogue vessel while off fighting the Voravians.'

  Darwin had no knowledge of said device, but nodded. 'Glad to see that you're up to speed Lieutenant, I was merely testing you to determine whether you were ship-shape.'

  'Yes sir.' the Lieutenant agreed, not betraying any emotion. 'Shall I activate it, sir?'

  'You can activate, initiate, start and engage whatever you please, Lieutenant. I have other things to worry about right now.'

  'Aye sir, engaging tracking device.' the Lieutenant said, and went about pressing a series of buttons on one of the panels to his left.

  What Darwin had said was technically the truth, being the Captain of a Star Command vessel was a large responsibility, one which he delegated liberally to those beneath him. There were certain activities that could not be passed off though, and it was with great regret that he had to do one of these now.

  He left his seat without any warning, exiting through the sliding double doors and out into the hallway of the ship. His crew had got used to this irregularity and no doubt someone had already stepped in to take his place. Not that Darwin himself ever thought any of this, his mind had firmly latched upon the new Ensign in an attempt to bat away the niggling concerns of what he was about to deal with. Nobody could argue that Darwin was not a man of priorities, even if his prioritising could charitably be called suspect.

  Something felt different, and he couldn't place his finger upon it. A ravishing young Ensign should have been enough to set his loins on fire, yet while the thought certainly took up a lot of his attention, it felt oddly jarring in doing so. He raked a hand through his thinning hair and made a mental note to schedule another private check-up with his long-suffering personal physician when he was back on base.

  He paced down the corridors, still incapable of shaking this feeling that had latched on to his amorous desires. Darwin wasn't a man prone to anxiety, but when it came to his own prowess there was a distinct gap where otherwise his exuded confidence spread.

  A speaker crackled to his left and the voice of his Lieutenant pestered him once more. 'Bridge to Captain. Grand Admiral Burroughs is ready for your transmission.'

  'Acknowledged, bridge.' Darwin half-sighed. 'I'll take it in my ready room.'

  He caught himself then. What the devil was he doing, sighing like that in front of one of his officers? His whole voice would have been transmitted to the crew as well. Where was the loud and confident and commanding voice of before and was it his troubles that had brought about such a response?

  Shaking his head, he stalked into his ready room through a hissing set of doors and collapsed into a chair just as the incoming call initiated, bringing up the permanently swollen jowls of Grand Admiral Burroughs.

  'Darwin man! What what! Give me news of the front line, there's a good fellow.'

  Darwin cleared his throat and addressed the holographic head as best he could. 'We have located the errant vessel, Grand Admiral. Unfortunately they have eluded us by tucking tail and running into an asteroid field.'

  'Curse them!' Burroughs lamented. 'A noble try, old bean. Give them what for next time, what?'

  Darwin nodded. 'We have placed a tracking device upon one of their crew members, that way once we give the Voravians a pasting we shall be able to track the blighter down.'

  'Good show!' the Admiral cheered. 'Now that's settled we can get down to dealing with these lizards of yours. Intelligence has it that they're on a collision course with Star Command H.Q., you don't need me to tell you that you can't allow that to happen. I've detailed several vessels to way-lay them while you make your way over, but I must stress that you return to base as soon as possible.'

  'You don't want me to intercept them before they get there, Admiral?'

  The Admiral stared silently at him as if the question were the most stupid thing he'd ever heard. 'By Jove man, that's the stupidest thing I've ever heard!'

  Darwin blanched at the condemnation but kept his temper in check. No good would come of getting into a shouting match with the Admiral, especially if he wanted to take his place one day.

  'Why shouldn't we engage them at an interception point, Admiral?'

  'How the devil should I know?' the Admiral roared back at him, clearly not fooled by the controlled tone in Darwin's voice. 'Those chaps at the Human Genome Project claim they have developed some kind of short-range weapon to deal with the Voravian threat, but we need you to lure them here in order to do that.'

  'I thought they were headed to Star Command already?'

  Burrough smiled, and it wasn't a particularly pleasant one. 'You have upset them g
reatly Captain, it would appear that the bulk of their fleet is converging on your location. By returning to Star Command they will be on a collision course with us, and you shall be the bait.'

  Darwin shuddered, he had forgotten that for all his pomposity the man had reached his station for a reason. Burroughs had dropped the imbecilic front and there was a dangerous twinkle in his eye as he did so.

  'What if we don't reach the base in time, sir?' he asked, trying to keep the trepidation that only the Admiral could cause him out of his voice.

  'Darwin, I have known you since you were a Cadet and the one thing you were very good at back then was running. I have no doubt that you'll make it back in time... and if you don't, well, perhaps the Voravians will be satisfied with your death and leave the rest of us alone.'

  'But Admiral I...'

  'Enough!' the Admiral bellowed, causing digital spittle to fly everywhere. 'You have your orders, and you have another call to attend. I will see you back at the base or not at all! Burroughs out.'

  The screen winked off and Darwin promptly collapsed. Couldn't the man see how unreasonable he was being by making him bait for an entire galactic empire? It wasn't his fault the negotiations went south, he thought he had done rather well in truth. Again it was that damn crew in the rogue ship, they had to have been behind his issues, he had no doubt in his mind if they hadn't have been there things would have gone much more smoothly!

  The incoming transmission signal chimed in once again, startling Darwin in a manner that wouldn't have been possible had the last few minutes not occurred. Had the Admiral forgotten something?

  He accepted the call and a face that was distinctly un-Burroughsesque flickered into being.

  'Good evening, Captain.' the face said, waiting for a response.

  'Can I help you?' Darwin asked, a look of suspicion crossing his features.

  The giant head sighed. 'You have no idea who I am, do you? Again.'

  Darwin frowned. 'Should I?'

  'I am Professor Hanniman.'

  'Nice to meet you, professor.'

  'Of the Human Genome Project. I was part of Captain Jones' crew before betraying them and installing you as Captain of their vessel. I was directly responsible for the production and inclusion of the glove upon your hand.'

  The Captain stared down at his hand, the glove twinkled at him in response. 'Oh... yes... Hanniman. Good man, good man that.'

  Hanniman chose to ignore that Darwin had failed to remember him yet again. 'I have a pressing matter that needs your attention, Captain. It's regarding the glove that you're wearing.'

  'Go on.' Darwin interrupted pointlessly.

  A flicker under one of Hanniman's eyelids was the only sign of the man's irritation. 'As you are aware, we have planted a tracking and monitoring device within the glove that you wear to determine its efficacy. We received the initial telemetry and have been...disappointed with the results. You recall our previous conversation on the matter I assume?'

  'Yes.' Darwin lied.

  'Anyway...' the professor continued, not buying that response for a minute. 'It would appear that the glove hasn't been given much opportunity to contribute in your command decisions. Almost as if you were actively resisting the effects of the glove. Have you noticed any difference at all since you began wearing it?'

  'I... er...' Darwin paused and came to a halt, could the feelings he had been experiencing simply been the glove trying to communicate with him?

  'I have been feeling something, professor, but I have been resisting it thinking that it was more a medical concern.'

  Hanniman visibly shook his head, clearly disappointed that Darwin had wasted this much of his time by fighting the one thing he was supposed to be letting happen to him. 'For the love of all that is holy man, whatever that sensation is you're feeling I want you to give into it this instant!'

  'If you don't mind professor, I'd like a doctor's opinion before taking your advice.'

  'Captain Darwin...' the professor said, rubbing his temples between thumb and finger. 'As you should already be well aware, I was both an Engineer and a doctor for the ship's crew in their last venture. I can assure you that you are in perfect health and that anything you feel will be the result of the glove and not some underlying illness.'

  'So what is it you want me to do with this glove?' Darwin asked. 'It hasn't been very helpful so far!'

  'That's because you've been blocking its effects you blubbering idiot!' Hanniman shrieked, finally losing his patience. 'Every single failure that has occurred has been as a result of your bumbling around and ruining everything. Your idiocy makes you a far better test subject for the powers of the glove than any Earth-born candidate. I have been made aware of your situation by Grand Admiral Burroughs and I am certain that the glove shall prevent the Voravians from catching up with you before you get back here. Now stop whining and let the glove get to work!'

  Darwin's face darkened, he was going to start hurling abuse at the scientist for having the audacity to speak to him in such a manner but the name dropping of the Admiral stifled his tongue. 'Aye.' he said quietly.

  'One more thing, Captain Darwin.' Hanniman said in parting. 'I shall be assigning one of my operatives to your vessel, she is on her way as we speak. You will do as she says so that your mission is a success or else the consequences shall be...severe.'

  With that, the transmission terminated.

  Running his tongue around the inside of his mouth, Darwin stalked over to the replicator. 'Egg-nog.' he muttered, and sat down to do some serious thinking.

  Chapter 39

  Shoes! Cheese! Pills!

  'So you're telling me this thing can just go flying about space wherever it pleases?'

  'Affirmative.' the computer chirped, delighted that someone was taking an interest in it.

  'Anywhere at all in the universe?'

  There was a brief pause. 'Distance travelled would be limited to the length the inertial dampers and compensating thrusters could be kept online.'

  'Inertial dampers, eh? What are those when they're about?'

  'Inertial dampers are always present, they prevent the effects of hurtling through space from destroying the crew.'

  'I see... and the thrusters? What do they do?'

  The slightest of pauses. 'They are to compensate for the inherent lack of gravity within space, they also compensate for drift and other things.'

  'Other things?'

  'Affirmative. Have a nice day.'

  'What other things exactly?'

  'Wouldn't you rather have a nice hot beverage? Have a nice day.'

  Terry slumped down upon the medical bed once more, he would have just stayed there but he felt there was something inherently wrong with talking to a machine while lying down. This had been the third time that said machine had tried to pressure him into having a hot drink instead of asking his questions. It seemed awfully unhelpful and almost irritated by his questioning, as if it had a life of its own to be getting on with and wasn't stuck in that room with him at all times.

  The doors of the sick bay slid open and Terry braced himself for another visit from Doctor Samej, only to find himself face to face with a tall man wearing what looked to be sunglasses.

  'Hello?' he said in a cautious tone, noting that the man seemed much less friendly than the folk he had seen grace the room so far.

  'Your attempts at accessing the computer system have not gone unnoticed, you will refrain from doing so in future.' the figure said in a basso drawl.

  Well, that was fairly definitive. Clearly he had to avoid talking to the computer in future.

  Instead of listening to this reasoned thinking, Terry's mouth asked why.

  'Why?' Terry's mouth asked.

  The ominous figure continued standing there in silence, as if the idea of his commands being questioned was something that happened to other people.

  'It's not like I was doing anything wrong... I just wanted to know a little about the ship is all.'

  T
he innocence of Terry's statement didn't appear to have any effect upon the man, who continued to stare at him before responding. 'What business have you wanting to know about our capabilities? Did you plan on finding something that you could use?'

  'I don't know what use Star Command has for you Mr. Stevens, but I wish to assure you that we have absolutely no use for you. If you continue to poke and prod into our systems I will be forced to take action.'

  Terry could tell from one look at the man that he was fully capable of taking action, there was a cool and factual delivery to the words, as if he was talking about tightening a loose pipe or opening a fridge instead of causing bodily harm.

  'Computer.' the figure said without averting his gaze. 'disable all requests from patients in the sick bay indefinitely.'

  'Confirmed Agent Smith, have a nice day.'

  Smith's lack of response seemed to indicate that he didn't wish the computer the same.

  'Any voice commands that you give the computer from here shall now be delivered directly to my security console.' he said, looming over Terry's bedside. 'If I hear the slightest word from you I assure you that consequences shall be...dire.'

  Smith's foreboding words lost a distinct amount of impact throughout the sentence due to a strange squeaking sound that grey steadily louder as it got closer to the sick bay doors.

  'Do we have an understanding, Mr. Stevens?' Smith said.

  Terry stared at him without comprehension. 'Sorry? I can't hear you, you're going to have to speak up.'

  The squeaking noises had drowned out everything that man had said and now grew even louder. Smith opened his mouth once again to speak but again it was drowned out by the sound and he seemed to realise that. Terry shook his head at him, and Smith's expression soured. He distinctly hoped this man didn't think he was playing a game with him.

  The sickbay doors slid open and the squeaking sound entered, attached to the feet of Doctor Samej.

  'Why hello there Agent Smith!' he waved frantically, coming to a halt and mercifully ceasing the squeaks. 'Fancy seeing you, right here, in the sick bay.' he seemed to pause after this sentence, as if waiting for cheers from an imaginary audience.