Icarus

by Stephen A. Fender

  “I see we’re dressing informally now,” he smirked. “Are we to duel at high noon?”

  She dismissed his remark with an uneasy look. “May I please come in?”

  Stepping to within a few feet of her, Shawn peered over her shoulder lazily. “The weather looks fine out there in the corridor. Besides, I’m not sure about voluntarily letting an OSI agent into my quarters. It could be bad for my image.”

  Melissa rolled her eyes and ambled into Shawn’s cabin, striding right past him to stop dead in the center of the room.

  “I didn’t invite you in,” he said, turning slowly to face her. He warily held his two index fingers up in the sign of a cross.

  “I’m not a vampire, Commander. I can come and go as I please.”

  Her tone was anything but pleased. Despite her alluring attire, this impromptu visit, he decided, was going to be distinctly formal.

  “There’s a mirror right over there. I may need you to verify your claim.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him dubiously. “You have one good day in the simulator and you’re just full of yourself, aren’t you?”

  “You heard about that?” Shawn wasn’t a bit surprised. Of course she had. In fact, she was probably monitoring the whole training session from some secret hideout in the bowels of the Rhea, or wherever her office was. The look on her face confirmed his statement. “Besides, as you know, I’m like this all the time.”

  “Of course you are,” she replied mockingly. “Just as long as things go your way.”

  He flashed a brilliant smile as he stepped closer to her. “I have this uncanny knack of always making things go my way.”

  Whatever had caused her sour mood, it seemed to melt away the closer he got. “Ever the optimist,” she said with a faint smile as she stepped a pace closer.

  “Always,” he said, their bodies now only inches from touching.

  “I understand Raven was with you today.” Her tone didn’t hold a hint of jealousy. It didn’t need to; it was in the words themselves.

  He smiled mischievously. “So was Lieutenant I’rondus.”

  “Did you play together nicely?”

  “I like Drake just fine, but that’s not really what you want to know, is it?”

  “It isn’t?” she replied with an upturned eyebrow. “Funny, I thought I was the intelligence agent who asked the questions.”

  “So you’ve put your official hat back on, then?”

  “No,” she said, lightly tapping at the leather bindings around the plasma pistol’s grip. “Just this. It gets me all the answers the usual questions don’t.”

  “Considering the legal status of that thing, I wonder if I should be reading anything further into that statement.”

  She gave him her best look of innocence. “Are you questioning my motives, Commander?”

  “No, just your means.”

  “I always get what I come for, Commander,” she said with a smirk. “Best you consider that when you believe you have the right to question me about anything.”

  “Uh-huh. So where are you off to, all dressed down?”

  She purred like a satisfied kitten. “Someplace you may be interested in seeing.”

  “I don’t know,” he replied noncommittally. “I’m getting kinda partial to the view in here.”

  Melissa stepped close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body. Or was it hers? “What do you know…about Ohrep VII?”

  Shawn could smell the sweet aroma of cinnamon on her breath as it wafted past his face. “It’s a way station, mostly, just beyond the edge of the Inner Sphere,” he managed. “There are high-speed transports that depart from there to nearly anywhere you want to go in Beta Sector. There’s a large trading outpost there, as well. Darus Station has some of the best merchandise this side of Third Earth, or so I’ve been told.”

  “Both legal and illegal, I hear,” she countered. “Did you…read the documents I gave you last night?”

  “I’ve been busy.”

  “We’re stopping there to let the OSI Director off before we continue on with our mission. We’ve also got a few things to…pick up.” She moved closer, her nose nearly touching the crook of his exposed neckline. She breathed across his skin as she spoke. “Your orders are encoded on the media I gave you, along with some special instructions. I suggest you read them, Lieutenant Commander.”

  “Right now?” he all but whispered into her ear.

  Shawn had no idea why she was teasing him. All pretenses aside—and, judging by her current actions, they were very far aside—there was no other reason to play this game. Going for broke, he leaned down to kiss her, but she stepped back and he missed her cheek entirely.

  “Yes, Commander. Right now.” She licked her lips nervously, closed her eyes, and looked as if she were trying to gather her strength as she stepped back from him. “And I suggest you change out of the uniform. We’ll be arriving at Ohrep in thirty minutes, and I’ll need you by my side wearing something…less official.”

  Melissa then turned on her thick-heeled boot and headed out of Shawn’s cabin as quickly as she’d appeared, leaving the commander to ponder what the hell had just happened—and why his heart was pounding in his chest.

  *

  After he’d changed into his civilian attire—dark pants, boots, and a beige t-shirt—and donned his comfortably worn leather flight jacket, Shawn sat at the computer terminal in his cabin, pondering whether he should continue reading the information packet that he had been handed by Krif, or if he should do as Melissa suggested and read through the data she’d given him. Deciding that Melissa had taken the greater risk by offering him whatever the storage device held, he decided to proceed with the latter. He examined the nondescript, palm-sized translucent cube one final time before inserting it into the computer’s slot.

  “Accessing,” the computer replied mechanically. Shawn had half-expected a different response, and was pleased that the Rhea’s technicians seemed to be working on ironing out the computer’s glitches. A blinking light above the cartridge slot began to pulse in a random sequence as the terminal accessed the data. “Holocube data uploaded and ready for processing. Do you wish to use voice-activated commands to navigate?”

  Shawn almost instinctively affirmed the computer’s request, but then had second thoughts. If, for some reason, his room was bugged, he didn’t want the offending recording device to pick up any stray audio and alert the listener to whatever he may discover in the data. He reached toward the screen and tapped the control that would leave the computer in manual manipulation mode with the audio playback turned off.

  As he scanned the contents, Shawn noted that there were several holographic video files and a stash of audio recordings. He would peruse those later if he could find a suitable and secure location. By their associated icons, he noticed that several of the documents on the cartridge were encrypted, but when he tapped at the control that would bring one of the documents into view, there was no request by the computer for him to enter any type of password or decryption key. He immediately knew that Melissa had already taken the liberty of removing all the keys on the disk before she had handed it to him, giving only visual evidence that the contents were classified. However, before he decided to thank her for the forethought, he wanted to give the documents a good read to see if there was anything in them that warranted such a security precaution.

  The first documents he opened were star charts. Even without the header label, Shawn recognized the first one as the pre-war map of this sector of Unified-controlled space. The area that would come to be known as Kafaran territory was still listed as ‘Unexplored,’ and several member worlds that had joined the side of the enemy during the war were color-coded to indicate that they were friendly or neutral systems. The second chart in the file was a post-war map of Unified space—more specifically, Beta Sector. He noted that the area of space surrounding Second Earth had become quarantined, an action which had taken place at the same time the hostilities had abrupt
ly ended with the Kafarans.

  The next batch of documents was a slew of trade reports from merchants operating in this sector, and some of the names of the reporting captains were familiar to him. While Shawn had noted that several of those same trader captains had been detained a time or two by Unified Security, none of it seemed particularly out of order. The merchants had been stopped for routine inspections of their cargo, or for various minor infractions that didn’t really require the might of Unified Security. But due to their proximity to Kafaran space, they were probably stopped for that same reason.

  The final documents were lists of parts and supplies that had been transported, both for the Unified Collaboration of Systems and for the civilian populations in and around Unified-controlled space. Most of the items seemed benign in nature, and were well within the norm for items transported throughout the vast majority of Unified space. Shawn did note, however, a surprising increase in the rate of military supplies being transported to areas near the former front lines of the war—both by Sector Command and civilians. It wasn’t an obviously large amount, but someone had taken a great deal of effort to make sure supplies were also being sent to the other corners of Unified space, far distant from Kafaran territory. After looking through the dozen or so reports, Shawn’s training told him that something didn’t quite smell right, and the knot forming in the pit of his belly indicated that he’d probably stepped squarely in the middle of it.

  There was a knock at his door, tearing his concentration away from the computer terminal.

  “Enter.”

  It was Melissa, looking the same as before, but lacking the playful smile she had held less than an hour ago. “Ready to go down to the station?”

  Darus Station was a gateway to the world of Ohrep VII below. It served as the central filter for everything coming from and going to the planet. Nothing was allowed to go from one to the other without first checking in with station security, and that included Sector Command carriers like the Rhea.

  “Yeah, I think so.” Shawn flipped off the computer, pulling the cartridge out and securing it in his pocket.

  “How was the reading material?” she asked, turning when Shawn neared her and heading down the passageway with the lieutenant commander close behind.

  “Informative.”

  Although Shawn couldn’t see it, she smiled thinly. “I thought it might be.”

  “You mind telling me how you came across it?”

  She chuckled without breaking her stride. “I sure do. If you reveal your secrets to the wind, you shouldn’t blame the wind for revealing them to the trees. And there are a lot of trees around here just waiting to catch wind, Commander.”

  Shawn agreed with a smirk. “Fair enough. So where are we headed now?”

  “The hangar deck.”

  “Krif has a transport ready to take us to the station?” Shawn thought of the cramped, uncomfortable military transports of his past. He didn’t relish the idea of being sandwiched between a squad of Marines who had the primary goal of seeing how much trouble they could get into while on liberty. Shawn also thought of the expression that must have crossed Krif’s face when Melissa had ordered him to make such a transport ready. That alone brought a smile to the commander’s face, and he could now see himself almost enjoying an otherwise uncomfortable ride to the station.

  “Not in so many words, Commander,” she laughed in response.

  After a short elevator ride, the duo walked through a final hatch and into the open cavern of the main hangar deck. Shawn’s eyes fell on the two high-speed transports that were flanking the doorway they’d come through, but Melissa kept her stride steady, making no effort to enter either of the craft. As she and Shawn rounded the nose of the leftmost transport, Sylvia’s Delight was there waiting for them. Her aft hatch was down, several maintenance techs were removing hoses from the underside of the Mark-IV Hypervarion transport, and Trent Maddox was there tending to some supplies that were being loaded into D’s belly.

  “Good afternoon, Skipper,” Trent said joyfully. “Nice day for a stroll, aye?”

  “We’re taking out D?” Shawn asked in pleasant surprise.

  Melissa ignored Shawn and turned to Trent. “Is everything ready, Sergeant?”

  “Ah, yes Miss… I mean, Agent Graves. The last pallet is coming aboard now.”

  She clenched her jaw, trying not to smile at the pleasant sight of the mechanic as he addressed her. “Excellent. Please finish loading operations and get on board. I’d like to leave as soon as possible. We need to give every appearance that we’re a merchant vessel, just in case the station decides to scan our hold.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Trent said, snapping a salute to both Melissa and Shawn before hurrying back to his tasks.

  Shawn, still in shock, watched as Trent began to sound out crisp orders to the few techs who were nearest to D. “It’s been awhile since I’ve seen him so…”

  “Professional?”

  “I was going to say ‘clean,’ but professional will do.”

  “I see,” she turned and gave Trent one last glance and then turned back to Shawn. “Let’s get on board, Lieutenant Commander Kestrel. I’m sure you’d like to get the preflight checks done as soon as possible.”

  Shawn looked at his battered, beautiful ship. It seemed like weeks had passed since he had last seen her, and he was itching to get back aboard as fast as he could. The thought of pushing the engines as fast as he could and screaming away from the Rhea was exceedingly appealing to him. “You have no idea, Agent Graves.”

  *

  On the command deck of Sylvia’s Delight, and for the first time in days, Shawn Kestrel again felt like the master of his own destiny. This place was his home, where he felt most comfortable, where he knew what every switch did and where the entire system was at his command. The plushy pilot’s seat groaned quietly under the pressure of his backside as he settled in and gingerly laid his hands on the control surfaces at his fingertips. It felt as if he hadn’t seen her in a month, and he fought the sudden urge to cradle the control stick as though it were a newborn child.

  As she entered the deck behind him, Melissa popped her head over his right shoulder. “Mind if I sit up here?”

  He offered a shrug in response. “Why ask? It’s not like it mattered to you before.”

  She lightly slapped him on the shoulder as she took the copilot’s seat. “Just like old times, huh?”

  Shawn had to laugh. “Yeah, except that ‘old times’ was only a few days ago.”

  “Does it really feel like that?”

  Shawn reached out and grabbed the control stick, jerking it slightly left and right. “Feels longer.”

  Melissa looked around the command deck as if it were her first time seeing it. “This really means a lot to you, doesn’t it?”

  “Are you kidding? This means everything to me.” He looked at her, and what could almost be described as a hurt expression crossed her face. He decided a little backpedaling was in order. “This is where I belong…not in some fighter.”

  She smiled weakly. “I saw your simulator report, you know. You seemed right at home in there.”

  “That was the old me. There are some things you never forget, no matter how hard you try.”

  “And you much prefer the ‘new you,’ yes?”

  He smirked and gave her a sideways glance. “Well, my life was a lot less complicated before you came along.”

  “I’ve tried to be a good influence.”

  “Yeah, I can see that. And we’ve gotten into nothing but trouble ever since.”

  She laughed lightly. “Regardless, you have no one to thank except me for being back in your old ship.”

  “Oh? How so?”

  “Let’s just say that Captain Krif was far from anxious to release you to my charge.”

  A look of confusion crossed Shawn’s face. “You mean Captain Dick doesn’t know you’re always in charge of me?”

  “You’re an officer, remember? And a pilo
t. You are supposed to fall under his jurisdiction, not the OSI.”

  “But you told me—”

  “And what I said was true, Mister Kestrel. I work for the OSI, and you work for me. Commander Krif also has to report to the OSI in this matter, which means he also works for me, but he sure doesn’t like to admit it.”

  “I can’t imagine why.” His sarcasm was plain.

  “Nevertheless, I just so happen to need a less suspicious ship for my assignment, and you just happen to be the right man to pilot it. You and I are here now, it’s perfectly legal, and we should really prepare to get going.”

  He couldn’t help but scoff. “What’s so important on Darus Station, anyways?”

  “The only thing in this galaxy more widely accepted than Unified credits: information.”

  He cocked an eyebrow before turning his attention back to prepping the ship for takeoff. “What kind of information?”

  “The secret kind. Now, can we please get going, or do I need to dictate my life’s story for you, as well?”

  “Well, now that you mention it, it would help to answer a few things.”

  Her jovial expression turned blank, and she gave him the same stone-faced look he’d seen the first time she’d peered at him in The Old Flamingo hangar on Minos. “We haven’t the time and I haven’t the inclination, Commander. Now, if you will, please?” She waved her hand toward the forward view port.

  Talk about turning on a dime, he thought to himself. “And what’s with the ‘Mister Kestrel’ stuff, by the way?”

  “Would we move faster if I called you Shawn?”

  “We might.”

  She couldn’t help but roll her eyes in frustration, another of her typical expressions. “Then, by all means, Shawn, please get this damn thing spaceborne now.”

  He smiled to himself, satisfied that he had somehow won this round. “Yes, ma’am.”

  *

  In the forward view port of Sylvia’s Delight, Darus Station turned in a leisurely manner on its axis as it rotated high above Ohrep VII. The planet below was a swampy, bug-ridden nightmare that Shawn wasn’t at all excited about setting foot on again. He’d flown some cargo this way about six months ago, checking in at Darus along the way. There wasn’t more than a hundred square feet of solid ground on the entire surface of Ohrep, so all the trading complexes and landing pads had to be built on massive stilts that were embedded deep into the planet’s rocky subsurface. The humid climate gave birth to hundreds of species of bugs, both big and small, that would feast on anything left out in the open for longer than sixty seconds. Large trees, some nearly a thousand feet high, created lush groves and forests that were unnavigable by anything except small surface skimmers. Shawn often wondered why traders had chosen this planet as a base of operations. It was everything Minos was not, and he again longed for the sandy beaches of his old home.