Velocity Rising

by Angie Arland

  The human kept her eyes on the cendent. “Let’s say I am skilled at reading micro-expressions, be they human, dinnarei, terudithan, or otherwise.”

  Flea was not impressed either by the captain, or by their antics during her limited time at their Cadet facility aboard the Terra Colonia. The half-cycle left her with even more enmity for humankind, especially after the one they called McGrath locked her into the V-Rep system for several days. Shortly after, McGrath accidentally met his demise during a training exercise.

  Flea did not like how the human watched her, waiting for a response yet again. “I hold no animosity toward your kind,” she lied. “On this occasion, I am willing to assist.” Flea did not have a clue as to what a ‘micro-expression’ was, but she did not like the sound of it. She would scan the ship’s database for on-board telepaths to see if the Captain was one, although she had not heard of humans possessing such abilities.

  In the meantime, Flea must follow the orders of her superiors. It seemed she had no other choice, her only home was with the fleet, which fueled her anger more. The dinnarei were a peaceful race until one fateful mistake changed everything—her own male primogenitor’s mistake, a relation the humans referred to as ‘father.’ Flea suffered the dishonor of his decision every day of her life. So, for now, she would remain patient and, in time, strike at the heart of the human-administered fleet when they least expected it.

  She smiled to pacify the human. “The volumetric display is fading, like so,” she rotated the image of the cruiser with her long slender fingers, “because the hull’s thermal signature is fluctuating.”

  “Yes, yes, but why is it fluctuating?” The rapidity of the human’s voice implied haste. “Are the sensors malfunctioning?” The woman moved away from the display table and paced back and forth across the Command hub, one hand on her hip, the other on her chin as though trying to soothe her own distress.

  Humans.

  “The vessel is under attack,” Flea stated, “but there are no other ships that have revealed themselves to our sensors. We should ask…Eve for confirmation.” Another quirk she did not understand; the human’s incessant need to label everything, even the ship’s computer.

  The Captain stopped pacing and returned to the table. “Eve, can you confirm the Terudithan cruiser at these coordinates is under attack?” She entered the data manually into the console on the side of the tactical command table.

  Flea snickered—on the inside.

  They ask for advanced technology yet are too deficient of mind to use it to capacity.

  The Everything ‘Eve’ AI took a micro-second to respond in a calm female voice: “Confirmed.”

  “Are there any other ships in the area that are firing on the vessel?”

  “Negative.”

  The human opened her mouth to speak, but Flea spoke first, her anger flaring at the futile line of questioning. “If another ship was in the vicinity, Eve would detect it. The technology on this vessel is far superior to any previous human-made model. According to your engineers, the new sensors can pick up something called ‘a sparrow’s fart’ at five-hundred million miles.” Flea was quite proud of this accomplishment. It proved how technologically advanced they were in comparison to crude human tech.

  “The engineers said that?”

  Flea nodded.

  “Good to know, if we’re ever in need of a sparrow’s fart.” The human tried to suppress a grin. Another thing that frustrated Flea about the humans, they were difficult to read, and used too many analogous statements.

  What is a sparrow’s fart? Flea wondered and made a mental note to conduct a full search later.

  Using her index finger and thumb, Flea zoomed in on the three-dimensional image of the cruiser in real time as its debris spewed into space.

  The captain moved around the table to study the display, coming alongside Flea. The dinnarei suppressed the urge to step away. Humans had a smell she did not find the least bit pleasant, something primitive…musky.

  “There is evidence of an implosion.” Flea noted.

  “From inside? How?”

  “A direct weapon placement within the vessel could exert enough energy to execute such outward force.” Flea wasn’t sure the human understood her explanation. She was about to construct a simplified version, when the human spoke.

  “Zoom out for a moment.”

  “There are no other vessels in the area.”

  Why does the human insist on double checking the obvious? Flea dug her nails into her palms.

  “Just do it.”

  Flea did as commanded. A nearby asteroid field was the only point of interest apart from the disabled Terudithan cruiser.

  “That asteroid field could be masking an energy signature. Eve, scan the field for unusual readings or anomalies.”

  Eve responded right away: “An energy wave has been detected inside the asteroid field, emanating from the coordinates of the initial blast. Multiple waves are forming.”

  “You are correct.” Flea cast her eyes down in a show of respect. When she looked up, she noticed a new signal. “See this?” She pointed to a small red blip on the display. “That is a very small vessel…a ‘sparrow’s fart’ perhaps?”

  The human grinned. “Doubtful. Sparrows only fart in proximity to Earth.”

  Infuriating species.

  “Of this I have no doubt.” Flea gazed at the volumetric display. The Terudithan vessel had split in two sections moving away from one another in the blast radius.

  The Captain spoke to the AI. “Eve, take us closer to the small vessel at these coordinates.” She entered the data into the console.

  Flea raised her palm. “Eve ignore that command. If I may, the kinetic energy wave from the blast has not dissipated. It is possible to disrupt the ship’s systems.”

  Does this human have any concept of danger?

  “Nothing that can’t be repaired. Are you afraid, Cendent?” The human raised her eyebrows.

  “Fear is not a factor. This is a prototype ship. I do not wish to see it damaged.” Flea wasn’t afraid of anything, but the human would be incapable of understanding the concept. She had yet to meet a human that did not show fear.

  “Eve, set a course for the vessel at the coordinates entered.”

  The ship’s quantum drive responded with a slight vibration through the hull.

  Flea adjusted the collar on her Fleet uniform. It felt as though it was slowly choking her…like the puny hands of a human would surely do if given half a chance.

  Nine ems of complete silence later, the scout ship AEV Mark-I—named by humans—arrived at the coordinates.

  “Scan for the vessel and project it upon the volumetric display,” the human commanded.

  Flea scanned the area. “There is no ship to speak of but a geriatric torpedo. I’ll zoom in.” Flea used her fingers to pinch in to scan the stencil along the side. “It reads TC-32. Further scans indicate the torpedo is emitting a signal. A decoy of some sort perhaps.”

  “TC-32? That’s a scout ship. What the hell is he doing out here?”

  “I do not understand the question.” Flea was confused by the human’s display of multiple neurotic emotions.

  “Flea, I know I’ve asked this of you already, but rescan the torpedo; this time, use the data to bounce an energy burst along its trajectory to see if we can’t pinpoint his location.”

  Flea did not know of this ‘his’ the human referred to, but she completed the menial task without question. This seemed to please the woman. As long as Flea maintained her guise, her true mission would evolve in due course. Until Exodus contacted her again with a new set of instructions, she would remain patient, diligent, and, above all, submissive to not raise suspicion.

  The captain threw herself into the Command chair and gripped the arms. “Eve, triangulate the position of the scout ship TC-32 and reveal its location on the display.”

  This erratic behavior threw Flea off guard. She recognized that TC stood for Terra Colonia, the
fleet’s largest military vessel.

  The human hopped up from her chair and returned to the tactical table.

  A small red blip flashed on the volumetric display deep within the asteroid field. Flea zoomed in on the location. “The vessel has impacted a large asteroid,” Flea said.

  “Eve, take us into the field.”

  Flea scowled.

  “You have a problem with that?”

  “No. Not at all.” She must learn to control her facial movements. Flea scolded herself for her own stupidity. Here she was blaming the humans for their weak behavior.

  Am I no better?

  “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it? Now, let’s go see if our friends survived the impact.” The captain smiled, an expression Flea understood vaguely as ‘anticipation’ or, perhaps, ‘excitation’ plastered on her face.

  “Highly unlikely,” Flea shook her head. They were not her friends, whoever they were.

  “You may be correct, but I’d rather not assume anything until we run further scans at close range.” The Captain gazed over the display, a scowl on her face as she gripped the side of the table.

  Flea had seen this erratic behavior in humans before. “Perhaps you require nutrients?” Dinnarei were able to sustain themselves for days at a time with minimal sustenance. Humans, however, seemed to engorge themselves nonstop. With such small bodies, it seemed ludicrous.

  “Eat? Later. Right now, these people need help, if they’re still alive.”

  “It is highly doubtful they have survived. The asteroid is in a state of ablation from the shockwave. It is destroying everything in its path.”

  Flea spoke the truth. Perhaps soon Captain Kellanie Leigh would trust her implicitly. She just had to play their game until Exodus supplied the next piece of the puzzle.

  Twenty

  Another shockwave hit the asteroid. The ship complained with a metallic groan followed by a hard thud, knocking Aiden sideways in his chair.

  “That’s not good,” Mason said, his arm around Grimes who was standing but still looked dazed. Aiden shined his light-beam at Spero’s crate. The harness held her secure, but the canine panted hard.

  Aiden swept the light around the hub. “Harness yourselves in, people.”

  “And I suggest adjusting boot magnetization to seventy-five percent,” Ryder added.

  “Good call.” Aiden nodded and adjusted his mag-boots. “Reece, report?”

  “Still alive, sir. Struck the overhead console with my helmet, but I’m good.”

  “Can we use thrusters yet?”

  “Still offline,” Reece said. “I’ll keep trying though.”

  “Keep me informed.” Aiden didn’t wait for a reply. “Mister Finnegan, how are you and Doctor McNeill holding up?”

  “Don’t bother yourself with us old folks, just get us off this bloody rock.” Mister Finnegan sounded more like his old self, but he was in obvious pain by his pinched voice.

  Aiden gazed out the starboard viewport. The black wall of darkness had been replaced with a white cloud of what looked like sparkling water vapor. He’d noticed the light particles earlier but assumed they were reflections from the hull onto ice along the crater’s edge.

  “Harper, are the sensors up?”

  The SigsOp was hunched over, fidgeting with the controls on the console as the HUD flickered on and off. “Almost, sir, but my holo says the energy wave’s building again, and this is just the beginning.”

  Aiden sensed the tension from the crew as they waited for the next bombardment.

  “Sir…” Harper seemed hesitant. “Sir, I think the Terudithan cruiser is under attack.”

  “You’re kidding me? One of ours?”

  “I swear a blip came up on the scanner…but now it’s gone.”

  “So, is there a ship or isn’t there?”

  “My eyes are not playing tricks, sir.” Harper’s voice rose as the stress of the situation escalated. “The reading was way out of range of the cruiser…I mean, it could be a ship…or maybe just super-heated debris. One thing I can confirm though—at this rate, we’ll be vaporized by these shockwaves within ten ems, if the readings are correct. The blasts are ablating the asteroid around us. Once it’s disintegrated, the ship will be completely exposed.”

  “If we’re not torn apart in the process, you mean,” Aiden said.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Karson spoke, his voice getting louder to compensate for the static over the comms. “We all did the calculations in Cadets. To survive this blast, we need to ride the leading edge of the wave.”

  The ship shuddered and groaned. Everyone stilled, waiting for the hull to come apart, but it held.

  “Karson, how do we get to the wave’s edge when the engine is still down?” Ryder said, her gaze locked on the Weps. “Our thrusters definitely aren’t enough to push us ahead of it, even if they were operational.”

  Internal lights flickered on, and Harper’s HUD came to life. “I think we’re beyond all that now.” The SigsOp’s voice was clipped with stress. “The asteroid is expelling toxic gasses and rock debris…it’s ripping the hull apart around us. Not to mention the dust clogging…”

  The blast doors opened.

  “Who did that?” Mason yelled, pointing at one of the openings and the corridor beyond.

  “The energy wave has overloaded the systems,” Karson said as the hub lights and consoles brightened to capacity, then exploded, one by one.

  Aiden gripped the arms of the Command chair, and Spero whined in her crate. The engine was down, the thrusters offline, the ship was being ripped apart around them, he doubted the situation could get any worse.

  “The asteroid is attenuating the kinetic energy from the blast but not for much longer.” Harper pointed out.

  Reece’s voice blasted over the comms. “Thrusters are online. Should I take us out?”

  “Reece, thrusters aren’t going to help us now. Report to the Command hub, there’s no need for you to remain in the cockpit.” Aiden wanted the crew to be in the most protected part of the ship. Mister Finnegan and Doctor McNeill remained in the engine room. Aiden was about to hail them when Mason gave the wall a half-hearted strike with the side of his fist.

  “How the hell do we get out of this?” The grunt shook his head. “I don’t wanna just sit here waiting to die. If we were planet-side, Grimes and I could hightail outta here in the Land Crawler.”

  “Yeah? Well, we’re not on the ground, man,” Zoe Grimes said, backhanding him on the shoulder. She seemed irritable after getting knocked unconscious. “We’re stuck in a frecking crater on a frecking asteroid, so just chill and try to come up with something useful, all right?”

  “Maybe he just did,” Aiden said. “Mason, you’re a genius!”

  “I am?”

  “This will buy us some time to at least get a distress signal to Fleet Command.” Aiden unhooked his harness and stood. He switched to ship-wide comms. “Attention, all crew. Get to the lander bay and secure yourselves inside the Land Crawler. Do not, I repeat, do not stop for anything. All our lives depend on it.”

  Aiden adjusted his mag-boots to fifty percent for faster movement and long-hopped to Spero’s crate. He released the harness and hoisted her into his arms before following the crew to the lander bay.

  Twenty-One

  Flea asked Eve to plot a course to the coordinates of the large asteroid and confirmed them on the navigation console. She could not understand why humans were so obstinate.

  “Entering the kinetic wave in three…two…one…” Flea altered her posture in readiness for the shock, but it was hardly noticeable. She glanced at the captain. The human had her elbow leaning on the tactical table, and her stance suggested she knew there would be no impact.

  “Oh, didn’t the engineers tell you?” The human raised her eyebrows. “The hull is reinforced with the same dampening material that covers our military ships. It’s what we call an advanced piece of technology—created by humans.”

  More like sto
len from one of your other allies.

  Humans were reputedly greedy for new technologies. Flea wondered what her people gave up in return for the prototype ship. She looked around the hub, taking in its pristine white polished walls and floor, no seams or corners—a protective bubble of sorts. This prototype was not simply an upgrade to one of their dingy, primitive ships, it was a full-on technological marvel, one that most other species would pay anything to obtain. She considered selling the vessel, affording her the opportunity to leave the fleet for good.

  Flea peered at the console; they were nearing the disintegrating asteroid. The volumetric display indicated eight life-signs within a crater on the rock. The signals were faint. She glanced at the human on the opposite side of the tactical table. For a split second, she considered masking the display, but then it was too late. The human noticed the green blips and moved to Flea’s side of the table.

  “Ready the tethers. Looks like we’ll have to drag Aiden’s ass out of there.” To emphasize her point, she pointed to the Ops station to her left—as though Flea didn’t know its location.

  “Aiden?”

  “Yes. I am…acquainted with the C.O. on that vessel.” The woman moved across the hub to the Communications console. “I’ll send a message to Fleet Command, apprise them of our objective.”

  Flea’s insides squirmed like a horde of olghen’braats feasting on a Tykarisse carcass. She fought her inclination to growl, saying, “Yes, ma’am,” and nodded her bald head. Flea proceeded to the Ops station with her fists clenched, then tapped in the sequence of commands, reminding herself to remain calm.

  Follow orders…at least for now.

  “Tethers ready, ma’am.”

  “I prefer ‘captain.’”

  Flea inhaled, her nostrils flaring. “Tethers ready, captain.”

  Impetuous brat.

  “Good. Once we’re close enough, bring us to their starboard and launch tethers at my command,” the human said as she leaned over the table display to study the eight green dots.

  An alarm sounded from the Communications station. Flea hurried to check the issue. She calmed her two thumping hearts. It was merely a message. “Incoming directive from Fleet Command,” she stated. It was a shame she didn’t get to read the message first.