The Omarian Gambit: A Pax Aeterna Novel

by Trevor Wyatt

  I know he’s waiting for that report.

  I know there’s something in it that he thinks will help.

  I smile, because now, finally, I recognize the man again from last night. The man that I married.

  Jeryl

  The last update I get from the CNC tells me we are a few hours away from the rendezvous in The Mariner Nebula. As the time approaches, I feel more and more conflicted. I’m haunted by the terror I’m about to unleash upon a people whose only wrong may have been to meet us. I can’t help but wonder if this war was a huge mistake. I know that, as an officer, I have to ensure that all orders given are moral and appropriate based on the information I have at my disposal. But there’s some level of fear that went with reviewing past orders, especially those that led to catastrophic ramifications.

  Not to mention that this war started because of me. What if I was wrong? What would that mean for me? All the lives that have been lost, all the worlds that have been wiped out, they would all be on me. What would the Armada do to me? Would they court-martial me? Would they execute me? If I find out the truth and send a slipstream message back to Admiral Flynn, telling him that this war was nothing but a huge mistake and that the Sonali didn’t down The Mariner, what would he think of me? What would the crew think of me? Thankfully, most of the old crew remained with The Seeker. All the CNC crew were with me when it first happened. They have a lot more understanding of the context surrounding this war than most do. They would understand. At least I think so.

  I exhale softly. I have to decide on a course of action.

  I begin to consider the other side of the equation. Say the Sonali are innocent, that they didn’t destroy The Mariner…would they be innocent of all the lives that have been lost? But if they were innocent of the crimes we leveled against them, why did they respond with such an aggressive show of force? For a time, during the beginning of the war, we were more interested in surviving than in winning. We were focused on living through to the next day and defending our planets than in destroying Sonali dreadnaughts. It took several ships, a miracle, sheer force of will, and stunning ingenuity to bring down a Sonali Cruiser. And then there were more. Now, the odds have been leveled. We are no longer retreating and trying to survive, we are counterattacking. We are pushing the bastards back.

  So, what the heck happens next if they aren’t the cause of the war? They sure as hell sustained it. They could have retaliated and let it be. But no, they had to invade our systems. They had to wipe out our deep space stations. They had to destroy our planets, even those that weren’t defended. I might not be innocent, but the Sonali must share the blame.

  I sit back in my chair and suddenly realize what sustained this war for so long: it really wasn’t The Mariner. In fact, no one even speaks about The Mariner any more. They speak about the destruction of our bases. They speak about the pillaging of our worlds. They speak about the death and destruction the Sonali have left in their wake. They speak about how close humanity came to be terminated.

  We may have falsely started this war. But the Sonali are as much responsible for its prognosis as we are.

  Now that I'm facing possible genocide, I have a decision to make. The Sonali have never demonstrated the kind of restraint I’m feeling. They’ve been careless in attacking defenseless planets. Once, they leveled a planet with more than five hundred million inhabitants. That planet was far removed from the front lines and didn’t have any defenses. This was two years ago. They had punched through our lines in the Eridan Sector. Gotten as close to the Core Worlds as they’d ever come before.

  I know I shouldn’t even be considering mercy with the Sonali, yet here I am.

  Well, I guess I’m only human.

  I smile as I arrive at this stunning revelation. This is what differentiates us from the Sonali. We are merciful, they aren’t. We are kind, they aren’t. We are reasonable, they aren’t. But it’s never as simple as that, is it? Are these descriptive terms universal or am I trying to understand the Sonali, another intelligent species, through the lens of human experience?

  What would Professor Guss have said?

  Having fought the Sonali, I decide that much of what my professor taught is bullshit philosophy. When push came to shove, the Sonali was just another human foe we had to defeat.

  “Pull up file FC 001,” I say into the air.

  “Access denied,” the computer says. “File is classified.”

  “Override authorization code AGZ121,” I say.

  “Checking,” comes the computer reply. A moment later, “Access granted.”

  Then a holoscreen appears over my table at a good distance from me. It's a voice recording of my experience with the Sonali ship five years ago. It was recorded at the Edoris Station, a meeting of the entire leadership of the Armada, immediately after my contact with the Sonali. The results of the meeting are classified, including all recordings and notes made, but I was one of the participants in that meeting, and I have access to it.

  “Play,” I say and the recording starts. Closing my eyes and listening to myself five years ago, self-recounting the experience with the Sonali, I begin to relish every moment.

  The back and forth with the ship’s head. The messages buried beneath messages. The clicking and popping sound of the Sonali. The blue humanoid creature that sometimes tortured my sleeps. The accusation I leveled against them for The Mariner. The aggressive response I got … and a request to come on a diplomatic mission to their home planet, veiled by a threat to use force on us. They never admitted to destroying The Mariner. But why not? If they did it, why not admit it?

  I remember The Seeker’s original purpose: to find out what happened to The Mariner. Why did I never accomplish that? It may not be enough to reverse all the damage this war has caused, but it might suffice to stop the Wolf Offensive and preserve what humanity we still have left in us.

  I pick up my tablet from my table and call up my report from that day. I check our current bearings to see if we can make a detour. I see that we can.

  I walk onto the CNC, head held high.

  “Captain on deck!” roars the security personnel.

  “At ease,” I say, noticing as some of my officers become tense. I take my seat. I can feel Ashley’s eyes boring holes into the side of my right temple. I shared my deepest and darkest thoughts to her. She knows that I have been struggling with our orders. I just hope she doesn’t feel like she has to oppose me when I decide on what to do next.

  “Lieutenant Eilean,” I say, “give me an update.”

  “We are approaching the rendezvous point, sir,” she replies.

  “Okay,” I say. I feel the tension in the bones of my fingers as I tighten them around the edge of my seat. Whatever decision I make from here on out, I’ll need the full cooperation of my crew. “Prepare to make a course correction, First Lieutenant.”

  I watch her carefully as she scans the readout on her workstation, before scanning the information on the view screen. I know she’s looking for reasons for a course correction. When she’s certain there is no need for a correction, she looks at me. “What correction, sir?”

  I grab my tablet from my side and tap a button. “Sending you a coordinate.”

  She returns her attention to her workstation as the coordinate slides into her view. She pulls up the map of the quadrant, placing the coordinate I sent her, our present location, and where we ought to be. She puts the information on the screen so that everyone can see it.

  “Captain, that’s way off course,” she replies. Then she looks at me. “I don’t understand.”

  That’s when Ashley joins in. “Captain, why do you want us to go there?”

  I raise my voice for two reasons.

  One, for everyone in the CNC to hear me.

  Two, I want them to understand this decision is not up for debate.

  “Many of you know that this area is where it all began. This is where The Mariner went missing, and where it was destroyed. This is also where we, fi
ve years ago, made First Contact with another species. Well, the coordinate you see on the screen is where our trail five years ago ended, when we were intercepted by the first Sonali ship.”

  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.”

  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, Eilean. 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 for 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 on 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 one priority 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.

  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 Ashley 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.