Velocity Rising

by Angie Arland

  She shrugged.

  “Body scans complete, passcode confirmed. Welcome, Captain Aiden Lomax.”

  The door hushed open and revealed a corridor. To Aiden, it looked roughly the same length as the old scout ships. The entire space was clean, white, and curved with no corners in sight. Kellanie led him to a compact mess hall. Grimes and Mason were eating something that smelled of herbs and garlic butter. Aiden’s stomach ached for food.

  “Grimes, Mason,” He nodded. “How you two holding up?” Aiden asked the ground pounders.

  “Good to see you among the living, sir,” Mason said, standing to attention. “We’re good to go, sir, just say the word.” He smacked Grimes on the arm.

  She stood. “Same, sir. Uh…like to join us? This creamy linguine is like nothing you’ve tasted.” Grimes grinned and patted the seat beside her.

  “Thanks for the offer. Maybe later. Don’t let me interrupt.”

  Kellanie had crossed the hall while they spoke. She accessed a food printer and ordered a nutrient bar. She tossed it to Aiden. He looked from the bar to the linguine, then shook his head. “Yeah. Save me some linguine, all right?” He grimaced at the bar.

  “If you’re going on the mission, sir, we’d like to come along.” Grimes stated, nodding to Mason.

  “We can be ready in ten ems,” Mason said, and Grimes shoved a fork full of pasta into her mouth.

  “News travels fast.” Aiden let out a long breath. “I won’t say no, guys. I appreciate the backup.”

  “You don’t need to put your people at further risk.” Kellanie said as they left the mess hall. She pulled on his arm, and they stopped before another door.

  “Look, Kell…” Aiden said low. “I don’t fully trust this Eve system; do we have full control over it?”

  “The AI does precisely as we command it, nothing more. It’s not a rogue program out to kill us, Aiden. That’s a misconception founded on infantile conspiracy theories. I’m surprised at you, buying into that nonsense.”

  He withdrew the nutrient bar from his front chest pocket and handed it to her. “You look as tired and hungry as I feel. Here.”

  She pushed his hand aside and shook her head. “I can get my own.”

  “Gotcha. Professional.” Aiden shoved the bar back into his pocket. “So, what are you really doing all the way out here? This is way too deep to be a test run.”

  “You’re right, and it’s classified.” Kellanie frowned.

  “No kidding.” He gestured at the door.

  “Engine room,” she said.

  “Let me guess. Mister Finnegan’s already in there.”

  “And the doctor. They’ve stuck together since they were revived. Feel free to check it all out. I’ll meet with you later. I have some reports to log.”

  “Sixty ems?”

  “Sounds good.”

  Kellanie hesitated and it got awkward fast, so Aiden nodded and moved toward the door. It swished open, and he entered the engine room. The same brilliant-white coating plastered the walls.

  This whole ship feels like a bioplastic alien tomb, he thought.

  It even had that smell to it, the kind that gave him headaches and sinus pain.

  He spied Mister Finnegan and Doctor McNeill flanking a console. They were in a heated exchange over the merits of quantum particle exchange. Their squabbling didn’t irk him as much as usual, probably because he should be dead.

  They hadn’t seen him yet, so Aiden gave them some space and took in the engine room. It was a simple yet functional affair; a circular room with five consoles along one curved wall. A viewport in the center, revealed the particle drive, a series of twisting, churning trails of iridescent blue vapor inside. Unlike most ion engine rooms, it was free of xenon gas bottles and shelves filled with spare parts.

  “Sir!” Mister Finnegan had stopped mid-sentence upon seeing Aiden. The engineer’s arm was cast in a transparent tube; the blackened skin underneath exposed the extent of the damage he’d sustained.

  “Mister Finnegan, good to see you. Doctor.”

  “I hear you and the crew are heading to that bloody Terudithan vessel,” Finnegan said, going straight to his usual business. “May I ask what the bloody hell for? Is that wise? Especially after what we’ve just been through?”

  “Probably not, but this isn’t our ship, so I don’t give the orders.” Aiden turned to Doctor McNeill. “Thanks for helping out on the ship. I’ll make sure your name goes on the nomination’s list for exemplary service in the field when we get back.”

  “Thank you.” Doctor McNeill seemed earnestly surprised, as well as more relaxed. Likely it was the sterile, lab-like environment of the prototype vessel.

  “I’ll let you know when we’re leaving the ship. I wanted to check in on you both first. We shouldn’t be longer than a few hours, I would think.”

  “I’ll take care of your dog while you’re gone,” Mister Finnegan said. “She’s a good hound, that one.”

  Aiden nodded his thanks. As he left the engine room, they started their debate right where they’d left off. It reminded him of his father and grandfather a bit. Not their personalities, but how two people can be apart and then pick up a conversation right where they left off.

  It took a good ten ems to locate Kellanie’s cabin. He wasn’t about to ask Eve. The small space held a single bed and one chair. There was no desk or anything resembling technology, just four curved walls. Aiden assumed the room would, at the very least, have a console, but no. It made him think of the word ‘spartan.’

  Spero spun in a circle as soon as he entered. He sat in the chair and gave her plenty of cuddling and petting. Just being around the retriever lifted his spirits. He wished he’d thought to bring a treat. Once she was settled, Aiden left the cabin, and almost bumped into Reece.

  “I’m headed to the briefing room, sir.”

  “I’ll walk with you. These doors all look the same.”

  “Sir, may I ask a question?”

  “Go ahead.” Aiden didn’t like the sound of Reece’s tone.

  The co-pilot planted his hands on his hips and took a wide stance. “Would you have let my grandpa die back there?”

  Aiden squared off with the young man. “You understand every moment we spend out here is a risk, right? Your grandpa knows that, as do the rest of the crew.”

  “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “Of course not. But the blast doors were frozen solid.”

  “If it were the dog in the engine room, you would have ripped down those doors to get to her.”

  “You’ve overstepped the boundary, son. Remember who you’re speaking to.”

  Reece lowered his head, but his hands were now balled into fists. “Sorry, sir.”

  Aiden read Reece’s file before he accepted his commission and took him on thinking they shared a similar background. They had both suffered great losses. Although Reece was younger, he was the only candidate for the co-piloting position on TC-32. The Scout Division wasn’t the most popular stream with its high casualty rate and extended periods away from loved ones. “Look…Reece…I understand your grandpa is the only family you have left. I didn’t ask him to remain in the engine room. That was his choice. He felt it was necessary.”

  “He’ll lose his arm.”

  “Maybe. But they make prosthetics these days way better than the real thing. Let’s make something clear; we all make decisions we regret at one time or another. That’s a fact of life and one you’ll learn for yourself soon enough. You can’t predict what’s going to happen tomorrow, especially out here in the void of space. But remember, we’re in this fight together, not just as a crew but as family.” Aiden smacked the co-pilot lightly on his shoulder and said the fleet motto. “Keep fighting forward.” And he added, “We fight for each other, we fight for family, we fight for humanity.”

  Reece relaxed. “I’m sorry, sir.” He nodded. “You’re right. Grandpa made his own decision to shove his hand where it didn’t belong.” Reece sniffed.
“I apologize for overstepping my bounds. It won’t happen again, sir.”

  “No damage done. You know, I need someone to stay behind to scrutinize the data that’s been collected from the debris field. You wouldn’t be interested, would you?”

  “You’re not saying that so I can stay with my grandpa?”

  “This is serious; I mean every word,” Aiden lied.

  Reece nodded. “I’ll do it, sir, just show me to a science console, and I’ll breakdown that data to the last nano.”

  “Great! But, first, help me figure out which of these damned doors leads to the briefing room.”

  “I was actually hoping you’d show me.”

  They laughed, then awkwardly stopped and looked around. “Seriously,” Aiden said. “Where the hell do we go?”

  Twenty-Four

  Aiden briefed them on the recovery mission. Although he didn’t order anyone to join him, they volunteered, all except Harper.

  The crew filed out of the debriefing room, and the SigsOp remained seated at the conference table. Aiden took a long breath and waited. He was tired as hell, and pain hammered the inside of his skull, the effects of too much CO2 still in his system.

  “Why can’t I stay on board?”

  “Because, Harper…I hate to admit this, but we need you.”

  “For what?” Harper drew his fingers together and sat forward, resting his elbows on the arms of his chair.

  “To do your damn job, that’s what. Now suit up and stop complaining.” Even though he hadn’t asked any of the crew to join him, he’d need Harper to extract the information from the Terudithan computer core.

  Harper raised one eyebrow. “Fine, but don’t blame me if we all get killed.”

  Aiden sighed. “No life signs were detected on the vessel. You saw the scans yourself.”

  “Yes, but I still don’t see why you need me, sir.”

  Aiden used his last resort. “Fine. In that case we’ll drop you off in the debris field in an EVA suit and pick you when we’re done. Without your expertise though, the job will be difficult and probably take a lot longer. I doubt we’ll be back before your O2 runs out.”

  Harper got up from his chair and stared at Aiden. “You wouldn’t do this with anyone else. Why always me?”

  “You haven’t figured that out?” Aiden cold-eyed Harper. “We need everyone on this mission. None of us has ever been on a Terudithan vessel. Think of the acclaim you’ll receive.”

  Harper looked away and gave it consideration. “That does have some merit.” After a moment, he nodded. “I’ll get ready then, I suppose.”

  “Harper?”

  “Sir?”

  “Thanks.”

  “No problem.” Harper left the briefing room.

  “Eve, dim the briefing room lights to five percent.”

  The AI did so, and Aiden’s eyes adjusted as he gazed through the viewport at the galaxy’s countless clusters of star systems and, against the backdrop, a lustrous gas cloud several hundred light-years across. He wondered if he’d made the right decision. Turning down Kellanie’s offer, of course, was not an option. Their very reason for existence was to rid the galaxy of the Terudithan threat and finally live in peace.

  Peace. Aiden didn’t know what that felt like. He’d like to find out. They only had to kill every last Terudithan. Then, humanity and the rest of the galaxy could finally be free of the squid plague.

  “No problem,” he said to no one in particular.

  Twenty-Five

  Aiden found the Command Hub with Reece’s assistance. The co-pilot had created a holo map of the internal structure of the featureless ship.

  Karson and Ryder examined a three-dimensional holographic image of the disabled cruiser and looked up as he and Reece entered.

  “Sir, have a look at this beauty.” Karson swept his hand. “It’s a volumetric display. It shows an object in real time, no primitive Head-Up Display in sight.”

  “Give him a moment to get his bearings, Karson,” Ryder admonished, giving the Weps a playful punch on the arm.

  Karson’s face flushed, but he forged ahead. “Sir, do the scout ships get these upgrades?”

  Aiden shook his head. “Apparently not.”

  “I just assumed—” Karson couldn’t hide his disappointment.

  “You thought about volunteering for your own ship?”

  “Well, the thought did cross my mind, sir.”

  Aiden wasn’t going to sugarcoat it. “Fleet engineers are in the process of installing Em Drives into the scout ships, and each will receive the Eve upgrade.”

  “No Quantum particle drive?” Karson glanced toward the engineering console.

  “Nope.”

  “And the drones? You mentioned those before,” Karson asked, and even Ryder’s eyes lit up as she waited for his answer.

  “Yes. The scout ship upgrades do include fully decked out military drones.”

  Ryder grinned. “I can’t wait to see them in action on the cruiser.”

  Karson took a step back and gazed at her with surprise. “Didn’t know you were interested.” He threw her an approving nod.

  Aiden hazarded a guess at their reasoning, saying, “According to Captain Leigh, this ship is only equipped with mapping drones. I have my doubts this vessel was made for full assault, but from what I can gather, the dinnarei and fleet are thinking more intel-gathering, swift under the radar type missions.”

  “Like pulling people off an asteroid, sir?” Ryder smiled.

  “Yeah, just like that.”

  Reece joined them at the tactical table, eyes wide as he studied the volumetric display. “We gotta get one of these,” he said and looked at Aiden. “Sir?”

  Aiden sighed at the trio. “There’ll be plenty of time later to admire the fancy technology, I promise.”

  On the opposite side of the hub, the Dinnarei female called Flea was deep in conversation with Harper. She stood well over six feet tall, her bald head tattooed with the deep ocean-blue striations of the Aben’tiraxi clan. From what he could tell, the mantle of power had not been passed on to her, otherwise she wouldn’t be on board but back at Fleet Command doing, well, dinnarei stuff.

  A once rare and sacred clan, Aiden knew the Aben’tiraxi were the keepers of all knowledge. Such information was passed on from each generation to the next. They accessed the information via a certain type of meditation, one that was not shared with anyone outside the clan. Ever. Dinnarei royalty and elders prized Aben’tiraxi knowledge, yet it was up to the individual keeper to choose whether to share such guidance, lest it be used for harm. Aiden supposed after the advent of war, her family line had been disconnected—much like his own.

  Kellanie came in and joined them at the table, folding her arms across her chest. She still wore a tired look, and Aiden guessed she’d been sending reports updating Fleet Command on their status.

  “Your crew are enjoying themselves, I see,” she said. “Don’t get too comfortable.”

  Kella always had a way about her, isolating people without thinking. Aiden felt a pang of pride in his crew as Karson, Ryder, and Reece all looked abashed. “They’re just getting acquainted with the ship,” he said with a defensive edge to his voice. “We all know this is temporary, don’t worry.”

  “Good,” she said, then launched into filling them all in on recent events. Even Harper, by all accounts, had shared his O2 with Mister Finnegan while they were in the back of the LC. Aiden didn’t recall much, disappointed in himself for floating in and out of consciousness. He intended to recommend every one of his crew for a Medal of Valor.

  Kellanie dragged him from his contemplation. “We’ve moved past nuts and bolts.” She had pride in her voice and spoke of the prototype ship as if it were her child. “Thus far, the prototype we call the Advanced Exploration Vessel, or AEV Mark-I, has surpassed all expectations. We’ve put her through the paces and rescuing you all was, as they say, the icing on the proverbial cake. This will prove to Fleet Command the tech is sound.”<
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  “Just so you know, I don’t like it.” Aiden frowned and lowered his voice. “It isn’t like the dinnarei to freely share advanced technology.”

  “You’ve made your opinion quite clear, Aiden.” Kellanie appeared to try hard not to look offended but failed. “Is your issue with the technology? Or the fact that Command chose me to test the prototype? Perhaps it’s because this ship is far more advanced than your now defunct piece of—”

  “All right,” Aiden raised his palm. “Let’s take this somewhere else.” He walked away from the tactical table while his crewmembers all shifted uncomfortably and gazed at the image of the Terudithan cruiser.

  Kellanie came alongside him. “Don’t insult my ship, Aiden.” To her credit, she kept her volume down.

  Aiden lowered his voice too. “What makes you think they didn’t ask me first?” It was worth the lie just to see her expression. Aiden kept strolling over to one of the workstation consoles, and Kellanie followed.

  “Why did the engineers bother to install station interfaces?” he asked her. “Doesn’t Eve have full autonomy?” He pushed his anger down and pretended to have a sudden interest in the science console.

  “R&D thought it beneficial to include the stations for human interaction. Did they ask you?” She pursed her lips as her gaze bore into him. “Did Fleet Command ask you?”

  “Ah. Basically, this lets us feel as though we have some infinitesimal control when, in fact, it’s quite the opposite. I see.”

  “Dammit, Aiden. We haven’t seen each other in cycles, and I’m already tired of arguing with you. You’ll see the benefits of the tech soon enough. Every time you leave the protection of Fleet Command, you risk your crew. This,” Kellanie gestured with one arm around the hub, “will save countless lives.”

  “I hope you’re right, Kell. I do.” Aiden felt his emotions getting the upper hand, and Kellanie’s damned eyes reminded him every moment what was missing from his life.

  “You didn’t answer me,” she said.

  “I know.” He walked away from her and back toward the tactical table. Ryder looked at him with sympathetic eyes. Karson and Reece had their gazes locked on the display.