“Why are you coddling him?” Shawn remarked acerbically. “I’m the one who’s in pain here!”
“And you deserved it! I mean, taking on a Jidoian all by yourself,” Melissa said, and then snickered as she fixed the haphazard condition of his shirt collar. “You must have been out of your mind. You could have gotten yourself killed, Commander.”
“Do I detect a tone of concern in your voice, Agent Graves?” Shawn asked as he rubbed his throbbing forehead and smiled.
She clutched his collar tight enough to wipe the stupid grin from his face, then yanked his head down so they were eye to eye. “What concerns me is that you could have compromised this mission, mister.”
Despite the awkwardness of his posture, once he’d gotten another whiff of her jasmine perfume, he couldn’t help but grin. “You know, you are so very pretty when you’re angry.”
She intensified her grip on his collar, yet was still flustered to be this close to him. “Don’t play cute with me, Commander. I’m being serious.”
“So am I,” he defended. “I never offer a woman a compliment in jest, especially when she’s my superior officer. Besides, my beautiful Agent Graves, you started it.”
Despite her anger, and the fact that Shawn was still slightly inebriated, she found herself blushing. How can he manage to be such a pretentious ass and still make my heart flutter? She released her grip and gently pushed Shawn back toward the lift wall. “And now I’m going to finish it, Commander. If you can’t control yourself when the situation demands it, you’ll soon find yourself on the losing end of my temper.”
Shawn let out a defeated sigh as his hand returned to its job of massaging his temples. “Fine. Whatever gets you to stop talking. My head is killing me.”
Truth be told, Melissa did feel a measure of guilt for having broached the subject of his late wife with him. It wasn’t like her to get personally involved with members of her team, much less to develop feelings for them. She chided herself for hurting Shawn, and for allowing herself to become close enough to him to do so. Melissa decided to make a heartfelt apology to the commander, just as soon as he was completely sober.
Chapter 7
Ensign Codaro Soto, tall and thin, and the similarly built Lieutenant Junior-Grade Stephen Daniels, had just exited the pilots’ briefing room on their way to the Rhea’s recreation deck. Dressed in their Class B uniforms, they were just finishing their conversation on which game they would challenge each other at when they came to Captain Richard Krif’s at-space cabin.
Without warning, there was a crash from beyond the door, followed by what both junior officers knew to be the captain’s voice.
“Damn it, man,” Krif’s voice bellowed beyond the closed door. “That’s the last time I leave you alone on a mission!”
“What do you think is going on in there?” Soto said, hooking his thumb in the direction of the captain’s office.
“I dunno,” Daniels offered with a shrug. “But it sounds like someone’s sure getting an earful.”
Soto, always one looking for trouble, motioned Daniels to stop. The ensign then quietly crept toward the door.
“What do you think you’re doing, you fool?” Daniels whispered sharply. “You’re gonna get pinched for sure.”
Ensign Soto scowled and waved a dismissing hand in Daniels’ direction. “Stop acting like my mother for once, Steve-o. I wanna find out who’s getting his backside handed to him.”
Daniels, ready to bolt from the passageway at any moment, shook his head. “You know, someday your morbid curiosity about these sorts of things is going to bite you in the—”
“Shhh!” Soto whispered harshly in the lieutenant’s direction before he placed his ear against the captain’s door.
Daniels heard a handful of muffled cries, but was unable to determine who’d issued them. “So? Come on, Codaro. What’s the scoop?”
Soto’s Asian eyes went wide. “I think it’s the new guy, Kestrel.”
Daniels was aghast. “Really? The CO of the Rippers? No way!”
The sound of something striking the captain’s door and shattering sent Soto reeling back.
“Don’t get cute with me, Kestrel, or you really will find yourself in the brig.” Krif’s voice boomed beyond the door and echoed down the corridor.
“No kidding,” Soto said as he absently rubbed his ear. “Come on, Steve-o. Let’s beat it before we actually do get caught.”
Lieutenant JG Daniels was in no mood to argue. “You’ve got that right.”
Inside Krif’s office, Shawn turned to see the remnants of the Captain’s tea sliding down the office door, pooling around the fragmented remains of the coffee mug.
“Calm down, Captain,” Melissa offered sympathetically. “I was there, and I was in complete control of the situation.”
“Complete control? Complete control! Is that what you call it?” Krif shot back acidly. “Then why did you have to bail him out of the brig?”
“It was all part of the plan.” Melissa hoped her explanation sounded confident.
“Plan? There was no plan! How can you plan for something like that to happen?”
“Does it matter, Captain? As I said, I was in complete control, and I don’t have to answer to you.”
“Of course it matters, Agent Graves! I was against this whole outing from the start.”
“I know,” she agreed, unable to stop her eyes from rolling.
“Well, you should have listened to me. Now one of my officers has managed to embarrass the entire ship. Congratulations.”
Melissa scowled at Krif. “You were under my direct orders not to discuss this operation with anyone on the ship, Captain. The only person who should be embarrassed by this little mishap, other than myself, is the Lieutenant Commander.”
Shawn leaned over her shoulder. “Did I really embarrass you?”
“Shut up!” both Melissa and Krif yelled in unison.
“If you were anyone else, in any other situation, I’d pull you off the flight roster in a heartbeat.” Krif snapped his fingers at Shawn’s face.
Knowing it couldn’t help his situation any, Shawn couldn’t help but smile lightly. “Well, I’m fortunate to be me, then.”
The captain sighed heavily. “For the moment, yes, you are.” He then turned his eyes to Melissa. “I only hope you were able to get the information you needed before hotshot here blew your cover.”
“Having our cover compromised was never a concern for me, Captain Krif. Besides, don’t pretend that you’re at all worried about my performance.”
“Unfortunately, you’re the ranking OSI officer on board, and I’d like to get to the bottom of our missing fleet as soon as possible. Since I command the Rhea, and you have operational command of the mission, it seems we’re stuck with one another for the foreseeable future. Besides, Sector Command wouldn’t look too kindly upon me if you were lost in the line of duty,” he then turned to face Shawn before he continued, “while supposedly under the protection of one of my squadron commanders.”
Melissa brought Krif’s attention back to herself. “I’m concerned with more than just the missing fleet, Captain.”
“I’m quite certain that the disappearance of Admiral Graves and the missing fleet go hand in hand. If we solve one mystery, I’m sure it will solve the other.”
“You’ll forgive me if I don’t share your optimism, Captain,” she replied sarcastically. “I’m charged with getting to the bottom of a great many things. Finding out what happened to the Valley Forge and her escorts is only one of them.”
“Then I suggest you start taking better care of yourself.”
“And what exactly does that mean?” Her tone was quizzical.
Krif’s ice-blue eyes stared back at her as he folded his large arms across his chest. “From here on out, any excursion you make away from the Rhea will be under the protection of multiple armed escorts, and that is above and beyond the presence of the space-hauler over there.”
“You have n
o authority to do that!”
“Like hell I don’t! You seem to forget that we departed Darus Station under high speed. Your boss, The Director, left this ship without a hitch, but not without a few parting words to me concerning you. I concede that while you’re here, operational control of the mission is in your hands. However, until such time as I see fit, you are to be escorted any time you’re away from the ship. Those are the Director’s orders, whether you like it or not.”
“I’m afraid I don’t.”
“And I don’t care,” he remarked with decisiveness, then looked to Shawn. “And as for you, Kestrel, you’re off duty for the next twelve hours.”
Shawn gave Krif a confounded look. “What am I supposed to do until then?”
“Get your butt down to medical for a complete physical, for starters. Doctor’s orders. After that, do whatever you want. Build a puzzle, take up needlework, go catch a movie. Just as long as it’s not official and it won’t bring your face or your name back into my office anytime soon. Are we clear, Lieutenant Commander?”
Shawn clenched his jaw in frustration. Thankful that the meeting was drawing to a close, he was more than happy to endure a full physical, just as long as he was out of this office. “Yes, sir. We’re clear.”
“Then you’re done here, mister.” Krif waved a hand in the direction of his cabin door. “Bye-bye.”
Both Shawn and Melissa pivoted to leave, but they were stopped in mid-turn by Krif. “Agent Graves, please remain behind. We have some things to discuss.”
Melissa’s eyes darted to Shawn and she nodded, telling him wordlessly that she would be okay until they met up later. Shawn looked over his shoulder to regard Krif one final time before he exited the compartment.
*
The medical compartment on the Rhea, known by the crew as sickbay, had surprisingly warm floors. Shawn, shoeless and wearing a medical gown, was sitting on the edge of the diagnostic bed and waiting for the attending doctor to make his or her presence known. The only person he’d seen since he arrived was a duty nurse, who had stayed in the room long enough to hand Shawn his hospital gown and to tell him to get undressed.
Shawn, for the most part, enjoyed hospitals. At one time in his youth, he’d even toyed with the idea of becoming a doctor. With his father’s encouragement, he had taken to his school books with vigor, studying anatomy and physiology while most other young boys were out getting into trouble. Due to his excellent grades, he had even earned himself a semester to study off-world at the age of seventeen.
However, as soon as his shuttle had departed Third Earth, and he found himself outside the planet’s atmosphere for the first time, the bug of interstellar adventure had bitten instantly at his soul. The great, unending void of space stretched out from his view port on the shuttle, and he wondered at all that unexplored territory yet to be discovered.
Not long after that, he’d enrolled in Sector Command’s officer program—much to Sylvia’s dismay. Shawn thought back to his long-dead wife, and how fervently she’d argued with him over what she’d felt was an exceedingly hasty decision. She’d had something of a temper, and her rage at that particular time had been one for the record books.
However, once the dust had settled, the two found themselves enjoying the relative freedom that service life provided. Likewise, Sylvia found that not only did she enjoy being away from her home, she actually came to love being out amongst the stars with her ‘dashing pilot-husband,’ as she often referred to him.
It wasn’t until the Kafarans arrived on the scene that everything changed.
Shawn recalled vividly the moment he’d received the letter of Sylvia’s disappearance while he was serving aboard the Fahrenwald. In his mind’s eye he could see the young female lieutenant, a member of the ship’s religious cadre, somberly handing him the printed message, followed by the requisite sympathies and offers for spiritual and psychological counseling. Shawn would have none of it. He would grieve in the privacy of his cabin, away from the eyes and ears of anyone else on the ship.
Breaking him from the recollection, the translucent doors of the room opened, and the ship’s chief surgeon appeared.
“Good afternoon, Lieutenant Commander Kestrel. I’m the CMO on board, Doctor Ophelia Finly.”
Her soothing voice and doe-like eyes gave Shawn every indication she was a kind spirit. Her thick, wavy blonde hair reminded Shawn of a pile of shredded paper. Doctor Finly’s thin eyebrows were set low, giving high definition to the cobalt blue eyes below them. She wore a standard olive drab lab coat, with the medical corps crest on one lapel and her rank insignia of commander on the other. She held out a long-fingered hand, which Shawn didn’t hesitate to shake.
“A pleasure, Commander,” he said with a smile as he took the older woman’s hand.
“Oh, there won’t be any of that, Mister Kestrel,” she said with a soft smile. “I much prefer ‘doctor,’ if you don’t mind. ‘Commander’ is too…”
“Formal,” he said, smiling back.
She nodded approvingly. “Exactly.” She raised her medical tablet and began entering information.
“So what exactly am I doing here?” Shawn asked with due curiosity.
“Standard examination, really. Nothing serious.”
“I see. Just updating my official records, are we?”
“In a manner of speaking,” she replied, continuing to enter information into her device.
“Well, I’d like to think I’m just as fit as when I left the service a few years ago, so I’ll be curious to see how my readings match up.” He smiled confidently, but the look on her face caused his mood to sober up slightly. “Is there something wrong?”
Doctor Finly licked her lips before speaking. “Actually, there is, and…I have to say it concerns me.”
“What’s that?”
She shifted her weight, seemingly at a loss for words. After a moment she lowered her voice. “Well, it seems you have no prior medical record.”
“Come again?”
“The administrative department was able to easily recall your general service record, but they were unable to locate your medical record. They couldn’t find it in any database, Sector Command or otherwise.”
Shawn hummed as he contemplated her response. “That’s a little odd, isn’t it?”
“Odd?” she remarked with a chuckle. “It’s unheard of. Quite literally. I’ve never heard of someone’s record becoming lost. Sure, I’ve seen them classified, or restricted, but there is always something there. It’s as if…”
“As if it were erased?”
She looked at him with a shocked expression, which faded after a moment. “It’s just strange, that’s all. I’ve been ordered to create a new one.”
Shawn nodded slowly, filing the information away in his mind for the next time he spoke to Melissa.
“Now, Mister Kestrel. If you’ll lie down on my scanner, we’ll see if we can’t get an image of what’s going on inside you.”
Shawn complied, lying down on the otherwise unremarkable bed. As soon as he’d gotten comfortable, a three-dimensional image of his bone structure appeared floating directly above his body.
“We’ll start with the bottom and work our way up.”
*
After nearly three hours of intense medical scrutiny, Shawn was released from sickbay, albeit under jovial orders of, “Don’t leave the country, as I may have more tests to run on you,” as the doctor had joked. Within minutes of arriving at his cabin, however, Shawn had become bored of his surroundings. He’d briefly toyed with the idea of continuing to read over the files Melissa had handed him the day before, but had decided the last thing he wanted to do was stare at a computer screen. After mulling over his other available options—and coming up with dead-ends for each of them—Lieutenant Jerry Santorum happened by his stateroom, with an invitation for something Shawn didn’t realize he desperately needed: a guided tour of the ship. Well, if I’m going to be on board the Rhea for a while, I might as
well get to know my way around.
Nova had started their tour with the bottommost level of the ship, showing Shawn the various storage spaces and maintenance bays for the Rhea’s assigned construction team, the 301st Unified Space Mechanized Construction Battalion. Using the advanced equipment on the Rhea, this team of specialized personnel could construct nearly anything the crew desired. However, their skills shone most when they were tasked with building planetside installations, which included anything from fully functioning spaceports to beachside harbors. Over half the lowermost deck of the carrier was dedicated to their vehicles, equipment, and supplies—with the remainder of the deck slotted for damage control and shipboard emergency training. There was even a fully functioning launch tube down there, outfitted with a type of fighter that Shawn himself had flown during the first war, itself retired and relegated to training flight deck operations crews. The ship’s dry goods and food refrigeration holds were there as well, complete with its own elevator up to the crew galley.
From there, the two officers moved up to the motor pool deck. This was where all the utility vehicles and special operations equipment was stored. In the center of the deck was a pair of large, L-shaped bays that were connected by a long corridor about the width of a standard fighter craft. The first compartment held various types of trucks and transportation equipment, as well as three large dump trucks and three enormous rollers that were too large to stow with the rest of the construction equipment on the lower level.
As Jerry and Shawn moved down the connecting corridor, Shawn saw five heavy cargo transports lining the starboard wall. They were enormous, each capable of hauling five hover tanks and their entire crews from the Rhea to the surface of a planet within minutes. Above the centermost craft, which Nova said were designated as L-1 Scythes, hung a large banner with the squadron’s logo emblazoned on it, identifying them as the 5th Unified Space Logistics Squadron: the Deliverers.
Opposite the Scythes were four fusion-powered mini-submarines. Jerry explained that these were used mostly by the ship’s attached special warfare team, but he’d heard stories that they were sometimes allowed to be checked out by ordinary crewmen—if they had a favor to cash in. The remaining third of the deck was off-limits, used by the Rhea’s special warfare teams for advanced combat training. Jerry explained that the vast majority of that space housed a three-dimension simulation chamber, outfitted with gravity controls which could be used to reproduce any environment the warfare team might encounter.
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