The Last Flight of the Argus

by E. R. Torre

  “Why sit back and wait? Why not send in exploratory craft?”

  “The chaos and fallout from the single solar bomb made trips deep into Erebus too dangerous,” Ned Frasier said. “When things finally settled down some fifty years later, the group of twenty was out of power and our funds were limited. Besides, the area to cover was maddeningly broad and despite our fears, there was no clear evidence the Argus still existed. We chose to conserve what monies we had and let the information come to us, rather than go out to it.”

  “The probe Kelly Lang found proved beyond the shadow of a doubt that the Argus survived the explosion,” Frasier continued. “We found markings on the probe indicating it was one of four hundred released afterwards.”

  “Why use probes?” B’taav asked. “Why didn’t the crew use the escape ships?”

  “Before venturing into Erebus, the Argus’ Captain quietly sent all non-essential personnel on various trips, from shore leave to scientific conferences or intelligence gathering. The crewmen didn’t even know they were being evacuated. When the Argus headed to Erebus, it was manned by a skeleton crew and there were no remaining personnel or escape crafts left on board. The scientific probes were the only means the crew had to get their message of survival out.”

  “Immediately after purchasing the probe, Mr. Frasier contacted us,” Stephen Gray said. “We are what’re left of the sentries.”

  “Before we arrived on Titus, Kelly Lang was dead,” Saro Triste said. “Whether the explosion that took him and his ship was accidental, we couldn’t know, but we suspected the worst. Especially when Lieutenant Daniels showed up.”

  “You think he was responsible for Lang’s death?”

  “While he arrived afterwards, it is possible Lieutenant Daniels had agents in the area and they killed the scavenger,” Stephen Gray said. “Regardless, his interest in Kelly Lang’s death confirmed our suspicions: There were others who knew what really happened in Erebus and, as you know, General Jurgens is behind Lieutenant Daniels. What is important is the fact that we’re in a race with Jurgens and Daniels and their military might to find the Argus. I have little doubt they hope to recover the ship for their own purposes. Even if the super juggernaut is severely damaged, she remains the most powerful weapon in the universe. Should Daniels or Jurgens get their hands on her, all they have to do is keep the Erebus Displacer locked down. They’ll have all the time they need to fix the ship. Afterwards…who knows.”

  Francis Lane laid her hand on B’taav’s.

  “Now you understand the urgency of our mission,” she said. “Every one of their actions suggests they want the bomb for themselves. If they get it, what’s to stop them from becoming absolute rulers of both Empires?”

  “What about Rasp’s murder?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” Francis Lane said. “Someone among us works for them.”

  “Or for themselves,” B’taav said. “The Argus offers enough temptation for anyone.”

  Francis Lane released B’taav’s hand. The air within the conference room turned even colder.

  “What if we find the ship first?”

  “We get on board and finish the mission our distant ancestors tasked us with.”

  “You aim to destroy her?”

  “Yes.”

  “Even assuming the Argus is still in one piece, the machinery within must surely be inoperative after all this time.”

  “This asteroid base proves you wrong,” Stephen Gray said. “And, unlike the Xendos, the Argus was built to withstand the prolonged ravages of both space and war.”

  “If the ship was intact, her power supply would eventually run out,” Francis Lane said. “Provided the asteroids surrounding her didn’t crack her titalum hull, it’s a good bet her core computer system is whole.”

  “When we reach the ship, we need only power up that computer,” Frasier said. “Afterwards, we initiate the Argus’ self-destruct mechanism and fly off into the sunset.”

  “Assuming we do all that, isn't there a danger that the self-destruct mechanism might also set off the Charybdis device?”

  “While we know little about the Charybdis device, Independent, but it is highly doubtful the Argus' self-destruct mechanism would activate that device,” Ned Frasier said. “The ship had at least ten quantum fusion engines.”

  B'taav whistled. Five such engines spread out at various points on a planet were enough to feed her energy needs.

  “That kind of power, it stands to reason, could set off a solar system killer. It could also power the ship and allow the remaining crew to escape their burial in Erebus. Since that didn't happen, we know the ship's engines were silenced. Therefore, the self-destruct mechanism would only serve to break everything on board apart.”

  “Including the Charybdis bomb,” Saro Triste concluded.

  “What if the Captain of the Argus ordered the probes sent out and, when they didn’t get a response, set off the self-destruct himself?”

  “Captain Torin was no longer in control of his vessel by the time the probes were released,” Francis Lane said.

  “How do you know?”

  “Because he, more than anyone else on board, knew the importance of this mission. He would never authorize the release of the probes.”

  “You think he was incapacitated?”

  “There is no doubt.”

  “No one else on board could initiate the self-destruct?”

  “Three people knew the proper codes,” Francis Lane said. “Captain Torin, First Officer Ryan Mills, and the Epsillon liaison.”

  “We know the liaison was one of the people evacuated just before the Argus left to Erebus,” Stephen Gray said. “That left Captain Torin and First Officer Ryan Mills. Mills was loyal to his captain. He too wouldn’t have allowed the probes to be released.”

  “Assuming all this is true, and even further assuming we get to the ship before Daniels does and manage to re-start the central computer. How do we initiate the self-destruct? Where do we get the security codes?”

  “We’ve had them in the family for many years, B’taav,” Francis Lane said.

  “In the family?”

  Francis Lane motioned to the boy. Reluctantly, Maddox rose from his chair and brought Nathaniel to her side. In the boy’s hands was his ever-present red ball.

  “Captain Nathaniel Torin, of the super juggernaut Argus, was a very distant relative of mine,” Francis Lane said. “His wife, Angela Torin, was the Epsillon liaison on board that ship. She was meant to go into Erebus. Her position required her to do so. But Captain Torin couldn’t bring himself to have her there. He…forced her to leave the ship.”

  Francis Lane took the ball from Nathaniel’s hands. She twisted its upper half until it came off.

  “Before she left the Argus, Captain Torin gave her one final gift.” Francis Lane removed the top of the ball, revealing a small crystal cube concealed within.

  B’taav’s eyes opened wide with surprise.

  “Project Geist?”

  “Yes, B’taav,” Francis Lane said. “A Project Geist cube. Stored within is the full mind scan of Captain Nathaniel Torin. He took the scan only hours before he ordered the Argus into Erebus.”

  “By the Gods, I never thought I’d see one of those. But…but they were banned. Every one of the Geist machines, and all the technology, was destroyed. Do you have one of those machines?”

  “No, we do not,” Francis Lane said. “Nor do we have the capacity to rebuild them. Even if we did, we dare not risk downloading the information on this cube with a machine built from scratch. The data storage on these cubes is delicate. Using an imperfect machine risks corrupting all its data.”

  “To get this information, we must find the machine Captain Torin used,” Stephen Gray said. “The one that is still on board the Argus.”

  B’taav shook his head.

  “More complications and delay,” he muttered. “More time for Lieutenant Daniels to catch up with us. Why did Captain Torin make this memory cube?”<
br />
  “We can only offer an educated guess,” Francis Lane said. “I suspect Captain Torin knew the truth behind the end of the Erebus War would eventually surface. He wanted Angela to give the cube to the Empire for posterity. That way, all questions about his actions could be answered.”

  “That cube might have the plans of the Charybdis bomb on it.”

  “I doubt it,” Francis Lane said. “Captain Torin knew very well what the Charybdis bomb was capable of, but he was ultimately a military man. I suspect he was unaware of the science behind the device and could no more replicate it than you or I.”

  “How did you come across the cube?”

  “After the war, Angela Torin settled down on the planet Onia,” Francis Lane said. “She was pregnant with Captain Torin’s only child. That made the child a member of our royal family. The boy, now grown man, didn’t learn of his heritage until Angela died some forty years later. On her deathbed, she told him who he was and gave him this cube. A pair of visitors came to see him that night. They told him about his father, and about the Argus and the Charybdis device. They were members of our organization.”

  “Angela's son joined the group,” Ned Frasier continued. “He was one of the first stationed at Titus over one hundred and fifty years ago. He bought many relics over his lifetime, but nothing like what we found. When he died, the cube changed hands, going to his daughter, then his daughter’s son.”

  “Until it was handed down to me,” Francis Lane said. Her eyes watered, her lips quivered. “For his sake and the sake of all those in both Empires, I want to complete Captain Torin's last mission.”

  B’taav stared across the table and at the people before him. He then turned and looked at Inquisitor Cer, Maddox, and little Nathaniel.

  “Every one of you knew this?”

  “No,” Inquisitor Cer said. Even as the words left her mouth, a look of apprehension filled her face. She eyed Saro Triste and said, “My apologies, liege. It was not my place to talk without your say so.”

  “Don’t worry, child,” Saro Triste said. “The Inquisitors, unlike you Independents, do as told without question. In the presence of their Cardinal, they are to speak only when permitted.”

  Saro Triste waved his arm.

  “You’ve performed admirably, Inquisitor,” Triste said. “You can understand why we kept this information from you. Until now.”

  “Nice to know someone else is in the same boat as I am,” B’taav said.

  Inquisitor Cer’s eyes locked on the Independent. B’taav offered the Inquisitor a slight nod before turning his attention back to the people before him.

  “You’ve told me what I need to know,” B’taav said. “I’ll get the Xendos running and keep you away from Lieutenant Daniels. You won’t have to worry about me anymore. The same can’t be said about whoever killed Rasp.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR

  When the meeting was over, B’taav, Inquisitor Cer, and Maddox headed for the maintenance room and picked up the items they originally left the Xendos to collect.

  On their way back to the ship they spotted the three Mercs wrapping up Rasp’s body. They would leave the body in this room, for there was no reason to take it anywhere. At some point in the future maybe someone could retrieve the corpse and give it a proper burial. Until then, he would remain in the cot he used to sleep for the very last time.

  As the three returned to the Xendos’ engine room, B’taav thought about the events and conversation he had with the group as well as Rasp’s murder. The silent man was indeed a very easy target. But why was he killed? As best as B’taav could tell, he was a relatively minor member in this group. If this was the first step in attempting to gain sole control of the Argus, as B’taav suspected, then the main suspects, and targets, had to be Stephen Gray, Saro Triste, and Francis Lane.

  The trio entered the Xendos’ engine room and laid the parts down. Inquisitor Cer and B’taav resumed their work while Maddox helped wherever he could.

  The first hour passed in relative silence. Maddox helped move equipment around but, after a while, found little else to do. He hung back and watched what B’taav and Cer did. At times he stifled a yawn.

  Despite his intense work, B’taav watched the bartender. He noted the stain on Maddox’s sleeve and was certain it was Rasp’s blood. The Independent kept that knowledge to himself. His attention gradually shifted back to Inquisitor Cer and their work. A smile crept onto his oil stained face.

  “After the Tamarin Campaign, I didn’t think I’d have to work this hard on a ship’s engines ever again,” he said.

  Inquisitor Cer wiped sweat from her forehead.

  “If you were there in the first place,” she said.

  “You don’t believe the personnel files?”

  Inquisitor Cer examined a patchwork of tubes and said, “For you, no. At least half the material on your personnel files is misinformation. I’ve written enough of it to know what it looks like.”

  B’taav slid a pair of clamps around one of the main coolant tubes’ joints and tightened the piece into place.

  “I was there,” B’taav said. When he was satisfied the clamp would hold, his attention returned to Cer. “There’s little to be gained in admitting this fact.”

  “What side did you take?”

  “I was with the mercenaries.”

  “Against the settlers?”

  “They were the only other side.”

  “The world they fought for was rightfully theirs.”

  “That’s not the way the Epsillon council saw it. Before the campaign, there were years of court battles. In the end, the Yakusho Corporation was granted rights to that land. The settlers took advantage of the court time to settle in, even though they knew the council might rule against them. They gambled Yakusho would relent.”

  “Because of their numbers?”

  “Exactly.”

  “They also didn’t think any corporation would be capable of such… slaughter.”

  “I’m not proud of what we did.”

  “Why not? Your mission was a complete success. You got rid of over seven hundred thousand mostly unarmed civilians.”

  “Mostly,” B’taav repeated. “They were given time to make the proper choice. Two months before our operations began, they were offered a fleet of shuttles willing to take them wherever they wanted to go. Yakusho Corporation even offered them an alternative world to settle in, one they could rightfully claim—”

  “A barren wasteland far away from any space lanes and supply routes,” Cer interrupted. “Had they taken Yakusho’s offer, they would have perished there as they did in Tamarin. If not from disease, then from starvation. Yakusho’s choice was no choice at all.”

  “You’re wasting time,” Maddox growled.

  B’taav and Inquisitor Cer worked silently for several more minutes before B’taav once again spoke.

  “The Tamarin Campaign happened a long time ago. Why do you care so much about it?”

  “I had relatives among the settlers,” Cer said. “Be glad I am an Inquisitor of the Phaecian Guard and obey my superiors. If I didn’t, I would have killed you when I had my chance back at Titus. Nothing would give me more pleasure than to rid the universe of every single mercenary involved in the Tamarin bloodbath.”

  Inquisitor Cer grabbed the toolbox.

  “After we’re done with this mission, I’ll get my chance with one of them, at least,” she said. She headed to the rear of the engine room and slammed the toolbox to the floor.

  “You’ve made yourself an enemy,” Maddox said and chuckled. “Well, another enemy.”

  B’taav wearily eyed Maddox.

  “Easy, partner,” Maddox said. “Best get back to work. There’ll be plenty of time to settle scores afterwards.”

  “I suppose,” B’taav replied. “In the meantime, you should clean that stain on your right sleeve. You wouldn’t want anyone to get the wrong ideas.”

  Maddox looked down and spotted the crimson stain on his sleeve
. His eyes opened wide with surprise.

  CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE

  Even though they barely talked from that point on, Inquisitor Cer and B’taav pushed themselves to their limits for the next two days. As impossible as it seemed at the start, all repairs were eventually completed and the exhausted duo headed for the ship’s cockpit. B’taav sat behind the navigator’s chair while Cer positioned herself behind the engineering station. Maddox stood by the door and out of the way.

  B’taav ran his hands over the controls and hit various switches. After a few seconds several lights and monitors came to life.

  “Computer is on.”

  “Primary engines online,” Inquisitor Cer said. “Initiating slow burn.”

  A low rumbling filled the ship. Other lights turned on as the ship came to life after a two hundred year sleep.

  “You did it,” Maddox said. “You got her working!”

  “We’re not there yet,” Cer replied. She pressed another series of buttons. “Going to fifty percent.”

  B’taav nodded. “Fixes are holding. Vents are clear. There is no sign of leakage and fluid levels are proper.”

  “Moving to sixty percent.”

  More rumbling filled the cabin.

  “Patchwork is still holding. Fluid levels remain good.”

  “Going to seventy five percent.”

  The rumbling that filled the engine grew ragged. Despite this, B’taav grinned.

  “Everything is holding,” he yelled above the roar. “Go for one hundred percent.”

  Inquisitor Cer pressed another button and the rumbling became overwhelming. Maddox clapped his hands against his ears and winced in pain. B’taav cocked his head to his side and gritted his teeth.

  “It’s still holding,” B’taav yelled. “OK, shut it down.”

  Inquisitor Cer hit several buttons and the rumbling dropped to a tolerable level.

  “Back down to twenty percent,” Inquisitor Cer said. She faced Maddox. “We’ll keep the engine going for two more hours. If there’s any problem, we’ll find it. In the meantime, we need to fix the sound dampers. The ship will tear herself apart, or at the very least leave us all deaf, if we fly around like that.”