by Tony Healey
Belcher was already on it. He got Jackson to assist.
“What shall we do?” Selena asked as the two men went back to the engine structure at the back of C-3.
Olivia sat and opened her survival pack. “I say we have some rations and let the boys do the rest. It’ll do ‘em good.”
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Walker asked her.
“I am actually. It makes a change to get off the bridge,” Olivia admitted. “I could get used to this sort of work.”
“Mention it to the Captain,” Selena told her.
Olivia looked off into the distance as she ate. “I just might.”
* * *
“So some of them were already open?” Greene asked.
“Yes. And you know, we found no sign anywhere that people had been in there before us,” Jessica said. “It’s strange.”
“I’ll tell you what is strange, and that’s that pod cycling through a thawing cycle of its own accord,” Commander Greene said. “Why that one?”
Jessica shook her head. “I don’t know. There are a tonne of questions, Del. Like, who were they who broke in before us? Who took those people from the pods? Why?” Jessica said. Her eyes became hard points of determination. “And more importantly, how does it connect with the soldiers the Union’s been secretly developing?”
“I’m not sure how,” Greene said. “But regardless, it connects anyway. And that’s a grave concern.”
* * *
Dr. Clayton stood back and let the security officers handle the alien woman. The four men lifted her from the confines of the stasis pod and over to the awaiting bed.
The Namarian appeared to be soundly asleep. Her body was inert, almost lifeless. She was a grey colour, an almost cadaver hue of grey. No colour or pigmentation at all. Her bald head was studded with small devices. Clayton peeled back the woman’s eyelids to reveal large, washed-out eyes beneath.
She had technological parts all over, snaking in and out of her flesh like the coils of a snake.
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” the Doctor said.
“Thank you, gentlemen, we’ll take it from here,” Nurse Munoz said as he ushered the guards out of the medical bay. “Wait outside, we’ll let you know if anything happens.”
“Get the restraints in place,” Clayton told him. “And I’ll get her stats up on the board. I’ve a feeling pretty soon this dreamer’s going to wake.”
* * *
As Clayton spoke, the sleeping woman did indeed dream. She dreamt as she had done for a thousand years. However, something was different. The dream had changed. It was almost as if it grew thin, the pressure of reality up against it, forcing the membrane of unconsciousness to begin to rupture.
And little could the crew of the Defiant know that a nemesis from another age had begun to wake. For after hundreds of years of waiting, her time had come again…
55.
The Namar were dying. They had used and exploited every planet in their native system and their offensive manoeuvres in other star systems had faltered.
“Cessqa, it’s time,” her second in command urged her.
She stood regarding their home world with tears in her eyes. Perhaps it would be the very last time she would be able to look upon it. A once brilliant diamond in the cosmos, and now…
Little more than a ghost of its former self.
“Cessqa, please, if we do not leave now we will never make it,” Ranesh said.
“Yes. I am coming,” Cessqa said finally. She turned and followed him to one of the awaiting transports.
In the hope of ensuring their future survival, the Namar had elected to build a revolutionary vehicle, the largest such construction they had ever attempted. It would hold hundreds of thousands of their people, and an armada with enough firepower to pose a definite threat to all who encountered them. Within it, those chosen few – the Namarians best and brightest – would sleep and await the day they were reactivated. To continue the work of their people.
To conquer.
Cessqa stepped onto the transport and it departed from the space station orbiting the Namarian home world and headed for the secret location where the great ship had been built, hidden from the watchful eyes of their opponents.
She was never more than aware that the very fate of their people may rest solely on her shoulders. Cessqa had been placed in command of the entire mission and her orders were simple:
“When you are awakened, assess the state of our people. And, conditions permitting, continue our work. Take the galaxy one planet at a time. Conquer everything and rule all…”
* * *
“She’s coming around,” Dr. Clayton said. He watched as the cybernetic being’s eyes fluttered open, her eyes adjusting to the light. Pupils dilating within mercury coloured irises. “Keep monitoring her vitals.”
“Yes Doctor,” Nurse Munoz said.
Clayton laid a hand on the alien’s wrist, just below the restraints that held her in place. “Hello.”
She looked at him in a way that sent a shiver up his spine. It unnerved him. Clayton felt the sudden need for water to quench the dryness in his throat. It was almost like the alien was not looking at him, but into him. Right down to his core.
He took a step back.
“Call the Captain. Tell her our sleeper’s awake.”
* * *
Cessqa was the last to be put to sleep. Any normal organism might not have been expected to last hundreds, if not thousands, of years in hibernation. However, the Namar were no longer strictly organic. Over the millennia they had adapted their race to incorporate technological elements, and it had served them well. Life spans were near on indefinite. Sickness and disease, a thing of the past.
But for all their advancements, one thing could not be denied: somewhere along the way, in the process of adding to themselves, they had lost something. A part of their people, their souls maybe, that they would never get back. And the change had made them a cruel, vile race.
So as Cessqa lay down in her capsule to begin the hibernation sequence, she did not fear perishing in the many years she would probably be asleep. Her body, strong and enhanced by numerous mechanical additions, would continue to operate. Death would not come near.
One day I will wake, she told herself as the technician connected her to the various tubes and wires within the capsule. And it will continue. We will survive. The whole galaxy will fall to our feet.
And with that thought, she succumbed to the hibernation. She closed her eyes and slept for a thousand years. Until she found herself once more rising to consciousness, strange sounds and an unknown language greeting her ears.
Her eyes fluttered open, and one of them looked down at her.
Hatred. It rose from deep within at the sight of the man with his hand on her wrist. She saw his expression change as she stared at him.
For all they had lost in advancing their race, one thing had remained. Hate. With every implant, with every enhancement, it had only grown stronger in the Namar. And whereas millennia before it had proved to be their undoing, now it would fuel the fire that would see them begin their work anew.
It all starts here, she thought. With these. Our first, unwitting prey…
56.
“I’m on my way,” Jessica King spoke into the comm. unit on her chair. “Tell Clayton I’m bringing some guards with me and to clear the medical bay. Make some room.”
“Yes Captain.”
The channel closed.
Jessica got up and patted Commander Greene on the shoulder. “Del, get our people out of there. I want all crew back on the Defiant for the time being.”
“Any particular reason?” Greene asked in a hushed voice.
She shook her head. “No. Just a feeling. Call it a hunch. Whatever it is, it’s telling me we should close the stable door before the horse bolts.”
The Commander was already on the case, calling through to the different team members and ordering them back on the doub
le.
“I’m on my way to the medical bay. Have Dolarhyde meet me on deck eight. You’ve got the conn,” she told him and left.
57.
Dollar was waiting for her as she turned the corner.
“Captain.”
“Lieutenant,” she said. “Walk with me. We’re going to the medical bay.”
The once-famed pilot fell in step with her. “Uh-huh, and if yuh don’t mind me askin’, what’s all this gotta do with me?”
“You’re no stranger to the unknown,” Jessica told him. “Given your previous occupational experience I thought you might have a unique perspective on our new visitor.”
“Fair enough,” Dollar said. “I heard you brought one of ‘em aboard. Just so long as you don’t expect me to start communicatin’.”
“No, we’ll use the translators for that job,” she assured him. “I just want you to observe.”
“Right.”
“And of course, the Namar were a notoriously ferocious species,” Jessica said. “I thought it might be good to have someone nearby who’s good in a scrap if one happens.”
Dollar chuckled. “Ain’t you got security there?”
“They’re on their way,” she said. “But, well, you know . . .”
Dollar laughed again. He did know.
* * *
The outer airlock on the Enigma‘s hull remained open behind them as they made their way back to the Defiant. The team members walked in single file the length of the Walkway.
“What’s the thinking?” Olivia asked Chang in front of her. “Did something happen?”
“I don’t know,” Chang said. They spoke over the comm. but on a private channel. None of the other team members could listen in, which was nice for once.
“Seems strange to suddenly pull us all out of there,” Olivia said. “Especially since we were right in the middle of cataloguing the different ship designs in C-2.”
“Yeah, well, we got a lot of holo-data. Should prove useful for the time being. I don’t know, the Captain makes calls like this sometimes,” Chang said. “You never understand them at the time, but they always turn out right in the end.”
“True,” Rayne agreed.
“Besides, I’ll be glad to get back in our quarters, have a nice hot shower. Get some sleep,” Chang said.
For a while now the two of them had been sharing quarters. It was not something that was frowned upon in any way. In fact, such a thing was encouraged. Relationships aboard ship were seen as healthy, especially on long voyages. And their last mission had been a full year of their lives. It hadn’t taken long for Chang and Rayne to arrange swaps with their respective roommates so they could stay together.
The hardest part had been unbolting the two single bunks from the decking and pushing them together. Lieutenant Belcher had discreetly helped in that regard.
“Hmm, me too,” Olivia said. “Maybe cuddle.”
“I didn’t say that was in the cards,” Chang said.
“Oh,” Rayne said, a note of despondency in her voice. “I thought . . .”
Commander Chang turned around to face her. Luckily they were at the end of the line. She had a smile on her face, lit from above within her helmet. “I’m messing with you, Liv.”
Olivia reached out and took Chang’s gloved hands into her own.
“It’s been nice spending this time together,” she said. “Weird, but nice.”
“I know exactly how you feel,” Chang said. They continued on, and within ten minutes they’d reached the Defiant.
Little did they contemplate the notion they may be the last humans to ever step foot on the Enigma.
58.
“Can you understand me?” Jessica asked.
The new universal translator units were small devices, hidden throughout the Defiant. They operated through brain stimulation rather than converting one audible language to another. In a manner of speaking, they translated one thought to another seamlessly. You never knew they were there.
The Namarian woman nodded slowly. “Yes.” She rubbed her head.
“Doctor?” King asked Dr. Clayton. “Is she okay?”
“By the looks of things, yes. Still getting over the hibernation. Must be like the biggest hangover in history,” he said in his usual positive manner.
There was something in his voice, however, that Jessica didn’t like. A certain uneasiness she couldn’t put her finger on.
I’ll have to chat with him about it after, she thought.
“What is your name?” Jessica asked the woman.
“I am Cessqa.”
Jessica indicated herself by patting her chest. “And I am Captain Jessica King of the Union Starship Defiant. A pleasure to meet you.”
She held out her hand, but the Namarian did not make any attempt to shake. However, after several seconds she did reach out and try to reciprocate. It was plain to see the gesture was as alien to the Cessqa as her many artificial embellishments were to them.
“A pleasure to meet you,” Jessica said. “And if you’ll allow me, I’d like to apologise for waking you. But we have a lot of questions regarding your ship.”
Cessqa’s eyes widened in acknowledgment. “Ah, yes, my ship. The Amarax.”
“The Amarax. Right, got it,” King said.
At least that’s better than Enigma, she thought to herself. One mystery solved, only a few thousand more to go.
Cessqa continued to rub her head. “Forgive me, but I do not feel well.”
“This won’t take long,” Jessica said, eager to hear answers. “If you could just tell us why you were left in there.”
Cessqa shook her head, her face crumpled up as if in pain. “Please, I . . . I am weak…”
The Namarian laid back on the hospital bed, visibly in discomfort. Jessica looked to Dr. Clayton for guidance. He was busily studying her vitals. He simply shrugged to indicate he wasn’t sure what was wrong with her. “Perhaps she just feels ill. That’s a long time to be asleep, you know.”
“Yes, I’m aware of that,” King said. “Well, I’ll come back in a few hours. Maybe she’ll have perked up a bit.”
“Sleep. I need to sleep,” Cessqa said in a frail voice from the hospital bed.
Jessica reached out, patted the other woman’s hand. “And you can. Get some rest, and I’ll speak with you later. It’s been a pleasure meeting you, and I hope to learn a lot about your race.”
“Yes, yes,” Cessqa said weakly.
Jessica left the medical bay, but ordered the guards to remain outside in the corridor. Just in case.
Dollar left with her, and it was not until they reached Jessica’s quarters that he piped up with his opinion.
“Seemed a bit convenient the gal stared feelin’ sick when you asked her prescient stuff, Cap,” he said. “Think it might be fake?”
“I’m not sure,” Jessica said. Without knowing it, she bit her bottom lip, her mind turning over. “You know, none of this feels right. I can’t put my finger on it.”
“Gut feelin’?” Dollar asked her.
She brightened. “Yes. Something like that.”
“Know what yuh mean,” he said. “I got the same thing.”
“What did you think? Really, in your gut?” she asked him.
Dollar took a deep breath, his arms crossed in front of his chest. “That we’ve maybe discovered somethin’ we weren’t meant to. A bit like Pandora’s box. Maybe… yuh know, just maybe…we shouldn’t have opened it.”
59.
She appeared still again. The alien woman who called herself Cessqa had ceased to strain against the straps holding her to the bed, and closed her eyes.
“Frank,” Clayton said. “I’m leaving you in charge for a couple of hours. I need to get my head down.”
“You feeling all right, Doc?” Nurse Munoz asked.
He waved a hand at the other man. “Yeah, yeah. Just tired. I’m no spring chicken anymore, in case you hadn’t noticed. And it’s been one helluva day.”
“I understand.”
“Any problems, there’s a couple of jarheads out in the hall. And of course you’ve only gotta give me a call . . .” Clayton said.
“Don’t worry,” Munoz told him. “I’ll turn the lights down in here. Let her sleep.”
“A good idea. Keep an eye on her vitals, though, will you? Maybe give ‘em a check every half hour or so. Just to be on the safe side.”
Munoz gave a quick salute. “You got it, Doc.”
Dr. Clayton headed for the door. “Well, I’m off. Night, Frank.”
“Sure. Night.”
The door to the medical bay closed behind him, leaving Nurse Frank Munoz and Cessqa alone. Munoz dimmed the lights to near-dark, then checked the alien’s readouts. They appeared to be stable. And as for the woman herself, she looked asleep.
He walked over to the little office at the back and accessed the ship’s database. He had exams taking place in a few weeks. With any luck, he would soon be more than a male nurse. If he passed, Clayton had promised to take him under his wing.
As he scanned the many pages of the database, his face lit by the cool glow of the computer screen, he did notice the figure shifting about in the dark. He did not hear the restraints tearing apart.
No part of him expected the sudden rush of movement from his left. He barely had time to glance in that direction before something big and heavy came crashing down on him. Frank’s head took the full brunt of the hit, his skull crushed like an eggshell.
Nurse Frank Munoz would never get to take the exam.
* * *
Cessqa dropped the second guard to the floor where he writhed, his hands at his throat where she’d crushed his windpipe. He gasped for breath, face turning blue until he went rigid and death made him still.
She moved swiftly along the ship’s corridors, deserted for now due to the change in shifts, and tried to recognise anything from the layout she’d studied on the wall in the doctor’s small office.
There. A turning that would take her to an umbilical docking device. She took a gamble that it would be attached to the Amarax somehow.
