by Tony Healey
"I'm with Captain Shaw. He's in the office with Grimshaw, waiting for you."
"Oh? Shaw. Never heard of him."
"He's a great guy, Jess. You'll like him, we've worked together for years. A really strong Captain."
"Well, look, I better get in there. But we'll have to . . . uh . . ." she said awkwardly.
"Meet up?"
"Yes," she said, laughed nervously. "That's what I was going to say. Sorry."
Will grinned at her. His hand fell to her shoulder. She wished it had been her face. She would have turned into it. For the first time in so long, she felt like a girl again. Butterflies in the stomach.
Her worries were dispelled. Forgotten. Pushed away as if they no longer mattered.
"I should be here on the station another day or so. Docking bay seven, though you won't find us on any inventory or manifest," he told her.
She frowned. "What d'you mean?"
He just laughed. "You'll see. Pop by later today and I'll show you around our ship. It's a bit unique. I think you'll like it."
"I will," she said, then: "Come by, I mean. You've sort of thrown me off. I wasn't expecting to see you . . . uh . . . here . . ."
"See you later." He smiled, patted her shoulder, then walked off. Jessica watched him go.
If he turns back to look, to see if I'm watching him, then it's still there. That spark is still there, she thought.
He carried on walking.
Go on. Turn around.
Will reached the end of the corridor and turned back to look at her before passing out of sight. Their eyes locked on each other. She felt herself blush. Melted right there. Broke into a soppy grin that, she was sure, made her look like a feeble teenager gazing at her childhood crush.
He flashed his trademark smile once more, then was gone. She was left once again with the prospect of what lay in store for her beyond the threshold of Grimshaw's office door. She drew a deep breath and pressed on. Back to business. Crushes, old flames . . . all of that could wait.
*
"Jessica, I'd like you to meet Captain Shaw. He's on special assignment for me," Admiral Grimshaw explained.
"Pleasure," she said as she shook the man's hand.
Shaw was nearing fifty, a shock of grey at both temples. Well built, lithe but stocky with scars up his forearms. He had a patch over his left eye, and his right was a dazzling blue.
I bet when he had both of them, he never struggled with the ladies, Jessica thought. Where has my sudden interest in the opposite sex come from?
She knew all too well.
"Good to meet you, Captain King," Shaw said. "I've heard a lot about the Defiant and her intrepid commanding officer."
"My reputation precedes me," Jessica said with a grin.
"Well deserved, far as I hear. Word is you have all seen a lot of action," Shaw said.
Jessica shrugged. "We've been in a few scrapes, I guess . . ."
"I'd like to hear about some of them. Maybe we can share a few war stories someday," Shaw said. "If you weren't a woman I'd ask you if you wanted to compare scars!" He let rip a loud, deep bellow of a laugh and gave her a friendly slap on the back, as if she were one of the boys.
She liked him instantly. Grimshaw indicated the two seats on the other side of his desk. "Shall we? I'm sure you can both make arrangements for comparing your war wounds later."
The two captains sat down. Grimshaw settled his bulk behind his desk, hands on the top as he readied himself for what he had to say.
"We know that the Namar crew were taken from the Enigma prior to our own rendezvous. I had no knowledge of this previous operation before sending you out, Jessica. I thought I'd reiterate that for clarity," Grimshaw said. "We also know that those crew were used as part of an experiment called Project Prometheus. Captain Shaw has been tasked with investigating that project, and what has come of its subjects."
"Sir?" Jessica asked, frowning.
Grimshaw's eyes looked heavy, tired. She realised that what had happened to them had taken its toll on him, too. He must feel responsible for the deaths, for what's been woken. For the evil let loose from Pandora's box . . .
"It would seem that the Project resulted in some experimentation with splicing technology."
"Splicing? As in gene splicing?"
Grimshaw nodded. "The same. Ever since the Marquis unrest, we have ceased production of replicants. Made it illegal. As you well know, as a result of the Marquis operations, replicants procreate among themselves. In some cases, interbreeding with humans. The division between human and replicant has been made all the more narrow over the years, and well may it continue. But, whoever ordered Project Prometheus into existence did so with the intention of blending replicants and Namarians, resulting in some kind of . . . hybrid being. Not only does this break several laws, it also poses some very worrying possibilities."
"My God," Jessica said, stunned. "Why do that?"
"Superior fighting force," Captain Shaw suggested. "Think back to the heyday of the war. We relied on the replicants as the backbone of our armies. After all, they're just like us. Only better. Stronger, faster. Longer life spans."
Jessica remembered the literature of the time. "Yes I recall a slogan that said just that. I can't remember right now what it was, exactly. But I've seen it in several texts."
"'Better In War,'" Grimshaw added.
Shaw snapped his fingers. "Yeah that's it. 'Better in war.' Well, they certainly got above that this time."
"So, what leads do we have?" Jessica asked. She was aware the Admiral had pursued the mysteries surrounding the Enigma relentlessly since their time locking horns with Cessqa and her people.
The Admiral sat back in his chair, folded his arms in front of his chest. "Very little. It's restricted way above even my level. And of course, I don't want to ask anyone for favours. I don't know who to trust."
"Aside from us," Captain Shaw said.
Grimshaw smiled. "I can always trust you two, Rick. Hence this meeting."
"So we have the name of the experiment, and we know something came of it . . ." Jessica said, trying to get back on topic.
"Yes. On a backwater planet, a dustbowl called Outland, there was a facility. Top secret, out in the middle of nowhere. Well, to cut a long story short, any mention I found of Project Prometheus in the files went hand in hand with the planet Outland. Going a bit deeper, I found details of the kind of facility they had out there."
"Go on," she said.
"It was a training base, Jessica. The same configuration as many of our own military training bases located on numerous planets throughout the galaxy. A place to make men out of boys. Or . . . fighters out of test tube hybrids."
She shook her head. It was hard to believe, but there it was. "Do we know who took the Namar from the Enigma in the first place?"
"I'm looking into that. It's been heavily classified. If there's a file at all," Shaw said. "As I was explaining to the Admiral before you joined us, there's not an awful lot to go on."
"So how will you proceed?" she asked him.
"Head to Outland as soon as possible, see the site for myself. Talk to the people in the area. See if it turns up a lead," Shaw said.
"A good plan."
"I think you'll understand my reasons for calling on Captain Shaw to help us, Jess. He's not standard military like you or I. Mister Shaw here is, shall we say, off the books. Do you get me?"
"You mean Shadow Force, don't you?"
Shaw shifted in his seat. The Admiral's face held a grim expression. "You've heard of it. Black ops. Completely off the grid. I can't trust any of my colleagues, Jess. You know that. I must first gather together the evidence, make a proper case of corruption before making grand claims. It's pretty simple, this whole thing. Someone ordered those Namar to be taken from the Enigma. And someone – possibly the same person – ordered they be used to create a new fighting force. An army of hybrids. For what purpose I couldn't begin to postulate."
"Another war
," Captain Shaw said.
"But against whom?" Jessica asked them both.
Grimshaw sighed. "Against whoever they choose, I guess. The next candidate. For some, that is how it is. How it's always been."
"That's sickening," she said.
"No," Shaw said next to her. His one blue eye seemed incredibly bright. "That's war."
*
Once Captain Shaw had left, Grimshaw got to the subject of her own orders.
"I can't authorise a mission to investigate, Jess," he told her. Evidently he'd not wanted to say what he needed to in front of Shaw. "They want me to mothball the Defiant. Stick her in a museum. Famous ship and all that."
It was like an invisible fist had slugged the air out of her. Jessica leaned forward, took a deep breath, filled her empty lungs with air. She swallowed.
I feel sick.
"Sir . . . I'm not done yet. I need to find Cessqa. But above all else, I need to know who is responsible for all of this. Not having my ship, Admiral, it's the same as cutting my legs away."
Her mind flashed to the MS that had once threatened to do just that, before Dr. Clayton found a remedy.
"I appreciate your position, Captain. But I regret I am unable to step in. If I do, whoever is behind all of this will know I am one step closer to discovering the truth. I must be seen as a team player."
"So what should I do? Sit around here, twiddling my thumbs?" she snapped.
"Calm down," he told her evenly. She watched as he got up and fetched them each a glass of water. Jessica drank some. The cold glass perspired in her hand. She drank some more then put the tumbler in front of her on the desk.
"Sorry," she said.
The Admiral looked at the viewport on the other side of his office. A small hole in the wall, and beyond it, the stars. The sea of lights they all called home.
"Your Father's ship," he said. "I get it. I understand what it must feel like to give it up. I really do. But you must let it go, Jess. Or let your attachment to it destroy you."
"I know, only . . ."
The Admiral smiled warmly. "For all the light out there, it is incredible just how cold and dark space really is. When it's like that, all we really have is each other, and the bonds we make. Wouldn't you agree?"
She didn't say anything.
"I can't authorise another mission," Grimshaw said. "Are you getting what I'm saying? In an official capacity, it's over."
She looked up at him. "Sir?"
"I cannot authorise a mission . . . but since when has that stopped you, eh?" he said with a wink. "Anyway, that is not the issue here. We must unearth as much as possible about the project itself. Only then will we discover who gave the word. After all, they knew we went there. They knew what we would find. Who we might have woken."
"Yes."
"Whoever it is, they are the enemy. The real enemy. It strikes me as no surprise that one of my own would desire to see one war roll into another. I myself, for what it's worth, prefer the peace."
"I agree with you," Jessica said.
"We must discover the traitor. Weed him out. It must be someone with power, to have classified it the way he or she has. Whoever is responsible, they have a lot to answer for. I don't care who they are. I'll go after them either way . . . but I need evidence."
"Understood, Admiral."
"I have given everything I have to Doctor Gentry. I should think that by now he is busily poring over it all, looking for the clues."
"I'll check in with him," Jessica said.
"Oh and there is something else to tell you," Grimshaw said. "I am leaving. Within forty-eight hours I will be on a starship out of here. Another assignment apparently. I know it's really to get me out of the way, stop me meddling. Get me away from the rest of you."
"Sir, I'm shocked. I really don't know what to say."
He waved her off. "Bah. There's not really anything to say. Just promise me you will follow all leads. Stay the course, Captain. We will find out who is behind all this. And what it all means. I promise."
She stood. Saluted him. Grimshaw saluted back, then walked her to the door.
"They're shipping the replacement in. He'll be here tomorrow so I can show him the ropes. He not only inherits this station, but all areas of my responsibility, including fleet ops. It seems they want my energies elsewhere in the galaxy. Another region, another fleet. I'll be sure to introduce you before I go. This tells me higher powers are involved."
"Who is it? Your replacement, I mean."
"Admiral Kerrick. You heard the name?"
She shook her head. "No. I'm afraid not."
Grimshaw licked his lips. "Well, let's just say he's a little . . . unpleasant."
5.
It's all too convenient, she thought as she strolled along the station promenade watching people come and go. All of this happens, and now Grimshaw is to be replaced by someone else. Sent off somewhere he can't continue his investigation.
She turned a corner, saw the signposting for docking bays six and seven. She followed it. So why did he want me in there? Not just to tell me he was going. It was to make me aware of the task he's assigned Captain Shaw.
Shadow Force.
All commanding officers knew about them, though few had ever seen one of the Shadow Force operatives, nor for that matter been able to confirm their existence as a black ops unit employed by the Terran Defence Force. On the QT. Hush hush.
The Admiral wanted me to see the kind of game that's being played here. Sending us to investigate the Enigma . . . it was all a mistake. We weren't meant to go there. But before whoever is pulling the strings could act, the Defiant had been readied for launch. By then, events were already in motion. So now, this is all damage control. Tighten the operation here, put the Defiant out of action, get Grimshaw out of the picture.
Jessica went right, headed up a long corridor toward docking bay seven.
So where does that leave my crew? All assigned different ships, perhaps? Out of trouble, sent to different corners of the galaxy. What needs to remain buried kept from those with idle hands. Hands that can dig, can unearth, can excavate to find the truth and drag it up from the dirt, dust it off, show it to all.
Now she saw it. A class of ship she'd never seen before. Long but narrow. Almost submarine-like in appearance. A mass of communications arrays poking out at the top, some of them at the front end like whiskers. It was a dull grey colour, no markings whatsoever.
The data panel on the bulkhead outside the airlock didn't list a name. Only a classification that resembled little more than a random scramble of numbers, none of which held a passing resemblance to anything she'd seen before. As if generated at random by a computer, she thought.
The airlock was sealed tight. She pressed the comm. button to call through to the inside.
"Captain Jessica King to see . . . Will Ardai, please," she said into the audio pickup. Jessica had hesitated momentarily as she tried to determine Ardai's rank.
Did he even have one?
The airlock clicked open, with no confirmation from the inside to say they'd acknowledged her credentials, or her reasons for being there. She stepped through and heard it lock shut again behind her.
*
It was quiet in there. A compact, claustrophobic corridor ran to the left and right. One way the bow, the other the stern.
"Hello?" Jessica called. It was bright and airy. Systems whirred; the ship's reactor hummed; and there was the general sound of a starship at a standstill. Nothing out of the ordinary.
"Hello?"
Footsteps approached from the right. She waited and saw, with relief, that Will approached. "Sorry, I got caught up. I just had time to hit the access button to let you in," he said apologetically.
Ah, she thought. Mystery solved.
"Quiet in here," she said. "The ship's not what I expected."
"She's not much to look at. But trust me, she's just about the best ship out there. Loaded with everything you could think of."
They started to walk in the direction Will had come from.
"It's so small in here," she said, noting the fact they had to walk one behind the other, not side by side as she'd grown accustomed to on the Defiant. Not that she was about to complain. It allowed her to see that Ardai had not let himself go in the years since they'd been together. His derriere seemed just as perfectly formed as she'd remembered it. Of course, there was only one way of finding out for sure . . .
"Most of her square footage is assigned to cargo and systems. If you consider her size, she should be able to carry a complement of thirty or forty. But she only holds a crew of eight. And even that's a squeeze. As it is, there's only ever five of us on here at one time," Will explained. He opened a door to the right. It revealed a small, but serviceable, officer's mess. The lights flickered to life as they walked in. "Coffee?" he asked her.
"Oh, yes please," Jessica said. She sat down in one of the available chairs. "This tub reminds me of an old submersible from Earth's history."
"Yeah I've often thought that," Will said. "She's fast, too. Maximum velocity rated at nine Jumpquarts."
Jessica couldn't hide the surprise from her face. "Nine?!"
Ardai laughed as he handed her a steaming cup of coffee. He remained standing, though he leaned back against the counter. His own coffee sat on the side next to him. He looked at her, his smile still there.
"So do I get the grand tour?"
"Sure. Once we've had our coffee. The skipper's still off ship. Probably lost on the promenade somewhere."
Yeah, and I, no doubt, walked straight past him earlier without realising it, she thought.
"It's like that, is it? Commanding Officer stretching his legs, getting up to mischief?"
Will sipped his coffee. "A tradition I think. Hasn't it always been?"
"I guess," she said. "Anyway, what's this boat called? I noticed a pretty suspicious registry out there."
"Thought you might see that. Regular Joes don't, to be honest. On the most part. When they do, we have to pull out our security clearance to get them to back off."
"How high is your clearance?"
Jessica thought of her own, which allowed her to view anything level six and under.
