by Charles Nall
Well what’s going on in here?
She walked into the room with the open hatch. Oh. I’m near the hangar. Bunch of nuggets in here.
They weren’t all nuggets, new fighter pilots, but there was a group of pilots yelling at something displaying on a tiny display screen in the corner. This room was one of the pilot barracks. It was a lot less roomy than the command staff’s quarters. Bunk beds lined the walls. A table with beer bottles and ash trays sat in the middle of the room. Six pilots were watching a news feed. Lieutenant Jaxon Knight was also visiting with the pilots. Jaxon was always friendly with everyone across the warship. Nobody noticed Sera walk in.
Fighter pilots were a different breed of people on the destroyer. Sera thought pilots were crazy. People flying around in tiny ships with barely any defenses. In normal space combat, fighters, when not engaging each other, flew across enemy warships and attempted to knock out any shields or other systems they could. Any errant weapon fire or space debris could take a fighter out. In the early days of space combat, fighters were controlled by drone systems from their warships. With the advent of more advanced jamming software, the human element was reintroduced to the fighters. Only a certain type of person enlisted in the fighter forces as the job was highly dangerous. Sera felt that a warship was much safer, but in the end, the difference between a fighter and a warship was just the size: they both were just metal coffins. A well-placed coil cannon shot could take out an entire warship. Perhaps it wasn’t just the fighter pilots who were crazy; everyone in the military was a bit crazy.
“You’re right, man. It’s effing Bravo Sierra!” yelled out one of the pilots. Bull Shit.
“So, what is Bravo Sierra?” Sera asked.
Jaxon and the pilots turned and saw the commander. They quickly straightened their posture.
“Oh, nothing, sir,” Lieutenant Jaxon Knight said.
Sera eyed the display. “Something on the news feed?”
Knight nodded. “Uh, Confederates killed Governor Lambrook. And of course, they blew up Exodus.”
“There’s no proof either way, we can’t jump to conclusions. Especially when vampires are involved,” Sera Freeman said.
One of the pilots spoke up, “No, sir! Captain Turner was connected to the Confederates! We have to attack!”
The commander shook her head. “We aren’t going to. We don’t have any true evidence. Believe me, if we had solid proof the Confederation was behind the attacks, we would already be in the middle of a war.”
“Well, would you ally with the vampires?” asked Knight, “The Blood Dynasty is angry at the Confederation as well.”
“That’s another reason I don’t believe the Confederation has anything to do with this. If the logical conclusion is to ally with the vampires, then there is something wrong with the logic.”
“Why is that?”
“Never trust vampires.”
February 11, 0270 AC - 16:58
Engine Room, USS Freedom
Orbiting Artemis, Galactic Union Space
Captain John Devereaux and Admiral Bradley Akeldamas were walking the ship discussing the latest developments. John Devereaux was as annoyed as ever with the admiral. They entered the engine room.
“This is sick, is this what this is all about in the end, just becoming one big happy family, at the cost of thousands of lives?” Devereaux asked.
“Isn't it worth it? Forty-four hundred perished on Exodus, but I'd gladly witness thousands more perish if it meant the birth of a new generation. The Confederation must be wiped out for the new Interstellar Federation to come to fruition. It's just the fact of the matter,” Akeldamas said.
Akeldamas' guards walked up to the two of them.
Akeldamas nodded to the guards. “Hello, friends.”
“We have been re-assigned to Agamemnon, sir. Do you know about this?” said one of the guards.
Devereaux glanced around the engine room, he didn't notice any crew members. “We're jumping soon.”
Akeldamas growled, “Don't interrupt our conversation, Captain.”
“I was just pointing that out. Freedom is heading back to Urbania for a few days for some minor repairs.”
“I'm aware of our itinerary!”
Devereaux rolled his eyes. “The engine room is deserted for a reason. Once we jump, this area will be filled with radiation. Non-lethal amounts, but I'd rather not stick around.”
Akeldamas snarled, “Hardly worth mentioning, be quiet, Captain, I'm talking to my friends. Learn your place.” Akeldamas turned to the guards. “Ahem, sorry about the captain. Yes, you have been re-assigned. You performed all your tasks well, but the security on this ship is fine without you. I am safe. You'll transfer to Agamemnon once we reach Urbanian space. I will stay on board Freedom for the time being. I will miss both of you and I want to stay in touch.”
“Okay, sir, will do. It has been a pleasure working with you these years. We're finally on the cusp of greatness.”
The guards saluted and walked out of the engine room. Akeldamas and Devereaux exited a different way out of the engine room.
Devereaux laughed. “You are going to keep in touch.”
“Well, not really, I suppose,” said Akeldamas, “Still, they were good at their job. I picked them myself. I knew my guards would have to do certain unethical things and they have done their tasks well. I no longer need them. All the pieces are in motion and it won't be long now. I am retiring soon. After my retirement from the Fleet I will take my rightful place as right hand of the master.”
“Your guards know much about your deeds. Are your secrets safe?”
“I trust them. I control much more than you would think. My influence goes far. The master calls me reckless because I am using more people to accomplish our tasks than he would like. But I am willing to go to great risks to get what we need. The master was quite annoyed with my use of the Sheol. The master said there would be hell to pay if I continue abusing my power. He's a fool. A visionary, but a fool.”
“Don't keep talking like that or you will be replaced," Devereaux said as they turned a corner.
“Nobody will replace me. Sheols are gifts from the benefactors to use when necessary. Obviously we must keep them secret and only use them to further our goals. Jacob Carpenter was worth risking everything to eliminate. What's the difference between using them to try to kill Carpenter and using them to kill Governor Lambrook? Nothing, except for the fact Jacob means much more! The master is quick to yell at me for abusing my power, but then he goes and does something even more risky to the integrity of the plan.”
They walked by some crew members and paused their conversation.
“I don't quite follow. Sheol?” Devereaux asked once the crew members were far enough away.
“Oh, I suppose you haven't been graced with that information yet. I forget sometimes that you aren't really on my side. That you only get by with the small amount of information we have given you. You realize that Lambrook was eliminated because he opposed peace. His successor will support us. Lambrook was targeted to be utterly destroyed, we can always just blame Confederation forces, and it will be easy to jump to that conclusion soon. The Sheol is a powerful starship given to us by the benefactors. When not necessary it goes into a deep sleep, only to be awoken when we need it.”
“What? You are talking like the ship is alive.”
“A different sort of life, yes. There's not many in the galaxy. We have sworn to the benefactors only to use them to further their agenda, and for the most part, to let them sleep. We cannot go near them, we must ask nicely for the ship to awaken.”
“They have an agenda. An agenda that matches up with your master’s, I take it?” Devereaux asked.
An alarm started sounding. Speakers that were mounted sporadically through the corridor started relaying a message. “This is Lieutenant Draeden. The ship is jumping soon. Be prepared for any initial turbulence as we enter hyperspace.”
“Yes they do have an agenda. They
sought out the master, as the master sought out me, and as I sought you and the others under my command. They will be upon the galaxy soon, and help usher in the new order of peace,” Akeldamas said as he braced himself on some railing.
Freedom shuddered as the ship jumped to hyperspace.
“These... benefactors seem powerful enough to do whatever they want. Why do they need us to perform these tasks? Why do this to me?”
“It's not that easy for them to influence this world. They have orchestrated a grand plan. An orchestra of shadows. Eventually we will be blessed with their true face, but for now, we must act out their plan so they can one day be with us.”
“It seems to me that these Sheols could just wipe out everything that opposed your new order.”
“Yes, I suppose they could. However, they are patient. They will not be defeated again. ”
9
February 14, 0270 AC – 01:23 Local Time
Rapture in dock
Silver Cove, Neutral Space
Sharon Rose Turner was reading information off her console screen on the bridge of Rapture. The viewscreen of the corvette displayed what was outside. A long, dark corridor went down the space station. There was currently no ship traffic going down this docking corridor. Rapture was resting on a landing platform to the left of the corridor with a few other smaller ships. The lighting inside Silver Cove was all dimmed to simulate night. The majority of the crews inside Silver Cove were asleep, but Sharon Rose was busy researching recent tragedies. Was it all connected, somehow?
Jacob Carpenter climbed up the ladder. He walked to Sharon. “Hey,” he said in a soft tone.
“Hi,” Sharon said quietly.
“I'm sorry if I'm bothering you.”
Sharon shook her head. “No, no. It's fine.”
“I'm not trying to irritate you or anything, but you have been distant. I just want to be with you again. That's all.”
Sharon turned to face Jacob. “I just don't have the capacity for love right now, Jake. I'm sorry. My world has been ripped apart. I want to discover the truth.”
“I get it. Well, whenever you think you can love again, I'll be there. I'm here for you.”
Sharon turned back around to her console. “I know.”
Jacob walked back toward the ladder but then stopped himself. “You know, it's Valentine's Day.”
“No, I didn't.”
“I know it's a silly holiday. It's ancient in its tradition and I'm sure the true origins of it has been lost to time. From what I gather, it used to be a pretty important holiday for couples. I don't know how the customs went exactly, but I do know I love you, I do know I want you this holiday.”
Sharon kept working on her console, barely paying attention to Jacob. “Listen, we're not a couple. Not anymore. Maybe one day it will happen again. I need more time to think. I cannot set a day for us to try to rekindle what we had. Those old customs are dead and gone, just like my former life. I am a new person. I am adapting to my new surroundings and I cannot afford to be caught up in a relationship. I'm sorry.”
Jacob fought back tears. “Well, again, I'm around if you need anybody. If–”
The sound of boots climbing up the ladder startled Jacob. He looked down the ladder and saw Arnold climbing up. Arnold pulled himself up into the bridge.
“Oh hey,” said Jacob, “What are you doing up so late?”
Arnold sat down at the navigation console. “I could ask you the same thing! I just can't sleep. I'm just going to look over the new set of contracts. Maybe we'll find some decent work. We have been struggling lately.”
Arnold began tapping on the console.
Sharon turned in her seat toward Arnold. “Is it Knave and his group again? Are they bothering you?”
Arnold laughed. “Well those fumers aren't helping me sleep, that's for sure. We've only been mercenaries for a few days and he is the only major problem I've had.”
Jacob positioned himself over the ladder. “Don't worry about Knave Gunner and his band of pirates. They are all talk. You know the rules of honor, he can't touch us. Don't let him bother you.”
“The mercs do not think we belong here. Sure, we've accomplished two easy contract missions, stuff the other guys didn't even want. We're barely putting any food on the table. And if we do somehow get a good paying contract, our ship is the worst of the bunch. We have some weaponry now, but we're still hopelessly outgunned.”
“We'll make it through this,” Jacob said as he began climbing down the ladder.“We can do it. Let me know if you find anything worth pursuing in the contracts list.”
“Will do,” replied Arnold.
Jacob returned to his quarters and tried to go to sleep. He would have a hard time sleeping. Sharon was not emotionally available and he was reminded of Knave Gunner, a captain of one of the mercenary crews on Silver Cove. Gunner did not believe Jacob's crew should have anything to do with the Cove. Rapture had become the butt of all of Knave's jokes. Eventually, Jacob did drift off to sleep.
Arnold and Sharon continued working on the bridge.
“So.” Arnold turned to Sharon and asked, “What are you doing up so late?”
“Everything is connected. I talked to Elijah and he believes it as well.”
“Elijah? He speaks in riddles. I'm surprised you actually learned something from him.”
“I'm used to people talking in riddles. I think all of the past tragedies are connected, I just have no idea how.”
“Well good luck with that... Oh, hey, look, a contract was uploaded to the database that is perfect for us. It's paying a lot!” Arnold said as he scanned the contract details. “A simple escort mission from one side of the neutral zone to the other. They’re delivering foodstuffs to aid Artemis. They just need escort in the neutral zone, we wouldn't be crossing into Galactic Union space. There hasn't been a bandit attack in that sector for months now. It's easy money. We need to accept this, it's in two days.”
“Just talk to Jacob about it.”
“If we don't jump on this someone else will. It's easy!”
“We have only dealt with bandits once, a few days ago, and it was a small force. I wouldn't push our luck, even if bandits haven't been out there in force.”
“No, it's pretty close to the Cove. Bandits wouldn't show themselves over here. They are sloppy and unorganized, filth from the fringe worlds. I know they are stupid, but they aren't this stupid. I'm accepting it, I'm sure Jacob would agree. He did give me the power to be able to do that, so he does trust me,” Arnold said as he accepted the mission.
“You may be right. I don't know much about this new life. You are catching on fast, though,” Sharon said.
“We just need to survive,” Arnold said. “We have to get better at this or we won't make it. We can't live off of just a few meaningless deliveries that any ship with a loading bay could do. We have to branch out and make a name for ourselves. And–oh, damn, I applied for the contract and it was already taken. That fast. Who is up at this hour? Dammit.”
“If you look at the contract again I think you can see who accepted the mission. You could always ask them nicely to give the contract to us instead.”
Arnold slammed his fist against the console. “It's eff'n Gunner. He accepted the contract. He's ruining everything. Well, I'll keep looking. This is so frustrating.”
Sharon stood up and walked over to Arnold and put her hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay? I don't think just Knave Gunner is bothering you.”
“Gunner is bothering me, yes. But, yeah, you are on the right track. Don't worry about me,” Arnold said as he skimmed through more contracts.
“I've always had your back, Arnie. If something is wrong please let me know. I'll try to help,”
“It's nothing.”
“You can't keep a secret. I know where you’re ticklish.”
Arnold smiled. “Don't start threatening me.”
“There's a smile!” Sharon laughed.
“There's one on your face
, too, Sharon. You haven't had one of those in a while, either,” Arnold said as he stood up and looked into Sharon's verdant eyes.
Sharon gave Arnold a big hug, the biggest she could do at least, considering the size difference between them. “Arnie, we're both going to be okay. Just let me know what's wrong.”
“Well, I just didn't know who to confide in, but I need to let it out, I guess, I don't want it to eat away at me.”
“Yes, that's a good thing, I know how that feels.”
Arnold stammered, “I–I just... I'm not sure how you can deal with it. Y–you are so strong. Maybe you feel like me, though. I put on a different face and try to bottle it up. Eventually I will just go insane. Do you feel that? Is it the same way?”
“Yeah, I suppose so.”
“Your father was, well, like a father to me. I have a father, but, let's be honest, he's–he's a problem. A drunk who barely lives day to day. I can't believe he owns that salvage shop now. You know he's just going to let it rust and rot. Technically I guess he owns this ship too. I bet he wonders where it went. He wonders where we are. I love him, but he's j–just an awful man sometimes.”
“He had to deal with a lot, too.”
“I know–I know. Mom. I miss her so much. Dad turned to alcohol to try to ease the pain. He turned into a totally different person when he did that. I don't ever drink alcohol. I just think–I just worry that if I did I would become like him and hurt my friends. Lately, though, it's been calling to me. I can barely resist it. Maybe it will ease the pain. ”
“No... Don't do anything you regret,” cooed Sharon, still embracing the giant.
“I regret many things over the years. The biggest regret is, of all things, you. I never–never...” Arnold trailed off, not being able to finish his sentence.
“Never what?”
“I never told you how I really felt about you. I guess I'm just shy. I don't know. Forget it, I'm insane.”
“It's okay.”
“I didn't really believe Jacob when he said Exodus was doomed. It was a convenient way to keep you in my life. I really didn't want you to go to Andromeda. I knew Jerry was going, but I thought I would be fine with that. I knew he'd find what he was looking for. He was such a good man, nothing bad could happen to him. He'd find a new home. I wanted you though, wanted to keep you safe. I always have. Your home was with me. When I saw Exodus explode I was devastated. I'm so glad you are still here with me but it was a for a stupid, selfish reason. You could have been killed. Jerry was. He was murdered in front of me and I am powerless, completely powerless. I just hurt,” Arnold said. A tear went down his cheek.
