by Angie Arland
Karson leaned his hip on the edge of the table and folded his arms. “Oh good, she knows his name.”
“Yes, please,” Harper said with a smile.
A few seconds later, Eve responded. “Presence confirmed. The particulates match an organic residue originating from a Class Delta-Three life-form native to an isolated quadrant of planets in the Ke’Rislare Sector.”
They all three glanced at one another. “I’m not familiar with that sector,” Aiden said. “Are either of you?”
“No, sir,” Harper said, while Karson shook his head. “A Class Delta-Three life-form is bloody dangerous, what the hell were they doing with one in a such confined space?”
Aiden shook his head and frowned. “Eve, calculate the distance to that sector from our current location.” If it was close enough, they could go investigate.
“Approximately four-hundred-sixty-three million miles, or seven-point-nine-two light-years, from our current location,” Eve responded.
“That’s way out of our range,” Harper said.
“How in the hell did the compound get all the way from there to here?” Karson whistled.
“Terudithans are a plague,” Aiden said. “We know nothing when it comes to how far their reach has spread.” Aiden didn’t want to believe that, but if there was a corner of the galaxy untouched by the squids, he’d never heard of it. “Harper, transfer the readings to your holo. We can run further scans once we’re onboard the cruiser, maybe pinpoint the epicenter of the explosion. I’d like a copy of any and all data you collect.”
“I don’t like this one bit, sir,” Harper said.
Karson laughed. “Which part?”
“The part where organic particles can shear a Terudithan cruiser into pieces.”
“Isn’t that a good thing?” Karson asked.
To Aiden’s surprise, he understood what Harper meant. “He means there’s something else more powerful than terudithans out here. Let’s just hope the creature, whatever they call it,” he clapped Karson on the shoulder, “is on our side.”
Twenty-Seven
Eve maneuvered them through the debris and disturbed a cloud of white glittering particles. Aiden slowed his breath, waiting for the AEV Mark-I to be torn apart any moment. The transversal thrusters vibrated the ship as they crossed the threshold of the enemy’s massive hangar bay. Storage pods, hoses, and dozens of odd detritus of every size and shape, including a few wrecked Terudithan fighter ships, drifted in the stillness of zero-gravity.
Aiden and Kellanie surveyed the scene through the three-dimensional volumetric display. “You can see the full extent of the damage, and confirm the hull was ripped apart from the inside.” Hull fragments the size of a small Fleet battleship folded outward from the main body of the hulking cruiser.
“You think those fighters are operational?” Aiden asked.
“Doubtful,” she answered. “No need to panic.”
“I wasn’t.” Aiden was certain however; a Fleet vessel had never pulled anything off like this before. He had a bad feeling.
Flea stood at the opposite end of the tactical table, tapping the navigational sensors. “I’ve found a suitable location to set down.” She flicked her hand and transferred the nav-map to the volumetric display.
Kellanie leaned in. “Still seems to be a lot of debris frozen to the deck.” She frowned. “Can you bring up their version of the Command center in relation to the hangar bay?”
The volumetric display zoomed out and a wireframe nav-overlay displayed the location of the two points with flashing red blips. “Is there a site closer to our objective? What about this one?” Kellanie pointed to an area on an upper deck.
“Yes, captain.” Flea said, stooping down to access the console.
Aiden studied the site on the display and decided to intervene. He had the safety of his crew to think about; whether she’d welcome it was another thing. “Not to disagree, but I think the Cendent’s location is more suitable. With a couple precise bursts, we can clear the debris from the deck, plus it’s closer to the computer core.” He pointed at an area of the display.
Kellanie threw him a dark look before her eyes sought out the display again. She zoomed in using her index finger and thumb. The display changed to a flat, even surface with minimal obstacles. “All right. Have Eve take us to your coordinates,” she said, nodding at Flea. “Let’s do five three-second bursts from the landing thrusters. Once the site’s cleared, take us down.” She joined Aiden at the other side of the table and lowered her voice. “Remember whose ship this is, okay?”
“As long as you remember whose crew this is,” he replied, locking eyes with her.
Flea casually tapped the coordinates into the navigational console, then she gazed directly at Aiden before lowering her eyes. From what he knew of dinnarei language, he took that as a sign of respect.
“Is it okay, captain, to scan for life-signs?” Aiden directed his question at Kellanie with a half-smirk.
“There’s no need to go overboard. As far as life-signs are concerned, nothing so far, but Eve will continue scanning until we tell her otherwise.”
The vibrations increased as the ship’s thrusters fired burst after burst.
“Debris cleared, captain,” Flea said. “Setting down.”
“Let’s make history,” Harper joined them at the display.
Ryder joined them as well. “Imagine. The first humans to set foot on a Terudithan cruiser.”
Harper added, “And hopefully return to tell the tale.”
“Grow a pair, would you, Harper?” Ryder said, an uncustomary scowl on her face as she studied the volumetric display.
Harper’s face dropped. He opened his mouth and closed it again.
Ryder glared at him, then her face broke into a smile. “Just kidding. Lighten up.”
By the look on Harper’s taut face, her remark still hit its target where it hurt.
“Whether we make it back or not, this is still history, right?” she added. “I suppose?”
“Ryder, maybe you and Grimes have been hanging out together too much,” Aiden intervened, flashing her a grin.
The Communications Officer’s smile faded, and it seemed she blushed a bit.
“I heard that,” Grimes chimed in.
Aiden noticed Flea watching their interactions, although she kept her head down at the console. By the look on her face, she pretended to be engrossed in the console readings. He wondered if she knew her own potential and thought about her lost heritage, which may be why she seemed so out of place. Everyone had someone for support, and Aiden was glad of that, but he had seen something in Flea—some kind of longing.
Mister Finnegan and Doctor McNeill entered the hub.
“The rest of us are heading out,” Aiden said to them. “We’ll be gone a couple of hours at least.”
Mister Finnegan opened his mouth, but Aiden cut in. “I’m leaving Reece behind to go over some data. If you need anything, ask Eve.”
“I’ll figure it out for myself, thanks,” Mister Finnegan grumbled.
Aiden eyed Finnegan’s arm. “Shouldn’t you be in the medical bay?”
“I’ll go where I bloody well please.”
“Fine,” Aiden said, guessing he probably wasn’t the first person to tell the old man. “We’ll see you when we get back.” He nodded to Doctor McNeill and ground his jaw as he turned to leave the Command hub. He understood Finnegan was in pain; so, as usual, Aiden gave him a longer leash than anyone but Spero.
Flea stepped up and stopped Aiden at the door. “If you locate living dinnarei on the vessel, execute them without question.”
“What?”
“They have dishonored our people.”
“Dishonored? How?”
“By allowing themselves to be captured alive.”
Aiden didn’t bother to hide his shock. “Look. I kill the enemy. The dinnarei are allies. If that changes, then we can discuss it. Until then, as far as your people are concerned, if we find any, I
view this as a rescue mission. And, according to Eve, there are no life-signs so executing innocent people is not necessary.” Aiden had heard of the Dinnarei’s honor system, but to kill their own for being captured? That was absurd and ruthless. If that was any indication of how they treated their own, humanity might be in graver danger than he thought.
Twenty-Eight
Aiden focused down the plasma rifle’s sighting fin at the deck of the Terudithan hangar bay. Specialist Mason came alongside him and Spero, using his rifle’s light-beam to sweep the area. Particles of frozen debris hung around their legs like a shroud, so thick it was like wading through water.
“What is this stuff?” the grunt said.
“I don’t think I want to know,” Harper replied.
Aiden released the tethered rifle from his grip, allowing it to rise over his shoulder, and accessed the holo on his wrist. Using the nav-ware, he mapped a course to a hangar exit about ninety feet from their current location and, thanks to the ship’s thrusters, clear of obstacles.
“Let’s move,” he gave the command.
Mason moved back to join Grimes. Kellanie followed close behind Aiden and Spero—too close for his liking—while Harper, Ryder and Karson, were in the middle of the group. Specialists Grimes and Mason covered their six.
“Karson, you wanna go hide back on the ship?” Grimes mocked over the comms.
“Yo, Karson,” Mason growled.
Aiden glanced back to see the Weps lagging and facing away. “Karson, is there a problem?”
“Just inspecting the sweet curves of the AEV Mark-I, sir. The hull glitters in this environment. Quite stunning.”
“Aiden…get your Weapons Officer in line. Karson, I will report you if you step out of bounds again,” Kellanie warned. “This is my mission, and I’m in charge.”
“Come on. Let him have his moment.”
It could be his last, Aiden thought.
It was a way of life for scout division personnel. No one knew which moment would be their last. All rookies went through hell the first few times out—unsure looks, nervous gestures—but within the first cycle, they toughened up. And if Kellanie had to remind them every five ems she was in charge, it was going to be a long haul through this hulk.
“All right, Karson, admire the Dinnarei ship later,” he said. “We’re on the clock.”
“Sorry, sir.” The Weps turned and rejoined the team.
“Okay, according to my holo, the terudithan version of a Command Hub is that way.” Aiden gestured toward the exit. “Move with a purpose.”
He guided the crew to the sizable cave-like opening and halted his advance to re-check the holo for life-signs. Something zoomed over their heads and into the opening, then five or six more. He ducked in response, and Spero growled beside him through his earpiece.
“Mapping drones away,” Flea announced over their comms.
“Thanks for the warning,” Grimes said with a grumble in her voice. “I about shot one down.”
“I about crapped my new suit,” Mason said. “Hey, does this one recycle fluids?”
“Enough chatter,” Kellanie said with an impatient edge.
Aiden pulled on the rifle’s tether, took hold of the weapon, flicked the safety, and stretched his finger across the side of the trigger. He looked down at Spero and gave her a pat on the side. Her new EVA suit’s design made her aerodynamic in appearance rather than puffed up like her old suit.
“Mason, Grimes, begin a sweep on the starboard side of this deck. Scout for labs and compartments, anything of use.”
“Affirmative, sir.”
“Karson, Ryder, do the same portside. Nobody touches anything without my express permission first. If in doubt, call it in. And remain on active comms at all times.”
“Aye, sir.” Both teams responded before switching on their light-beams and entering the bowels of the ship.
“You mean my permission?” Kellanie chimed in. “I’ll take point on this one.”
“Be my guest, but I have full autonomy over my crew. As long as that’s clear.”
Kellanie narrowed her eyes through her visor at him as she strode by. Aiden wasn’t surprised. She’d always had something to prove and threw her weight around. She called it ‘competitive,’ especially during their time at cadet training. A pang of emotion ripped through his chest. That’s where he met Lauren.
Not now, dumbass. Focus!
Aiden stepped aside to let Kellanie take point. “Harper, you’re with us.”
Harper nodded, adjusting the molded backpack across his shoulders, he followed Kellanie. Aiden and Spero took their six.
Darkness filled the corridor beyond the hangar bay. Aiden kept an eye on Harper to guide him as he swept his rifle side to side at the shadows behind them. They slowed, so Aiden glanced frontward. He grimaced as he watched Kellanie fumble with her rifle while accessing the holo on her wrist.
Spero growled. Aiden raised his plasma rifle as a Terudithan soldier’s floating corpse appeared in her rifle’s drifting light-beam. She was too busy looking at her holo to notice.
“No life-signs detected, as expected,” Kellanie said.
“Ma’am…” Harper tried to get her attention.
Aiden wondered how the hell they were going to make it through this mission if she expected to lead. “No life-signs? I’m happy for you,” he said, “because if that squid was alive, you’d be dead right now.” The fact that she hadn’t heard Spero growling concerned him. Her situational awareness had seemingly dulled over the cycles; of course, he’d had plenty more opportunities to practice.
She looked around. “Huh?”
Aiden directed his rifle’s light-beam at the frozen terudithan floating in zero-grav.
“Oh, shit. You had me there for an em,” Kellanie said, panting through his earpiece.
“Lucky it’s deader than dead,” Harper commented.
“Okay, you take point Aiden, while I scan for...anything of interest.” Kellanie stepped into an alcove and held position, waiting for Aiden to take lead. “I guess you are more experienced with this sort of thing.”
Aiden ducked under the alien corpse. “Not pretty up close, are they?” Scorch marks covered the alien’s uniform, seared through to its shark-like skin revealing sinew and bone. Its mouth gaped open, and its eyes bulged from their sockets, frozen in the midst of the explosion.
They only moved a few more steps when Kellanie stopped in her tracks. “That’s not right.
Aiden glanced over. “What isn’t?” He tightened his grip on the rifle.
“I’m picking up a faint life-sign.” She swept the holo back and forth. “According to Eve, this ship is devoid of life.”
“I don’t like this,” Harper whined.
“Shh, Harper. You don’t like anything,” Aiden said, but he had to agree with the SigsOp on this one. “What are you saying? Eve is malfunctioning?”
Kellanie stammered and stared at the readings on her holo.
Aiden opened a comms broadcast. “Attention, all crew, there’s a chance we may have company. Stay sharp and report everything, not matter how obscure. Use your eyes and your own tech.” He wanted to add, ‘And don’t trust the Dinnarei tech,’ but held his tongue. His crew were smart enough to figure it out on their own and they still needed a ride back to fleet.
“Other than a couple of body parts, we haven’t seen any action, sir.” Mason sounded disappointed.
“We’ll report anything we pick up,” Grimes added.
“Karson here, sir. Nothing of interest either, but I can see the same life-sign on my…no, wait…that’s odd. Now it’s gone. Should we investigate?”
“Negative,” Aiden answered. “Continue your sweep and keep me...us…apprised.”
“I’ve lost it too. Maybe the particles and gasses are messing with the equipment. No need to panic.” Kellanie came in on a direct channel to Aiden. “Still over-cautious. You never change.” She was pushing too far, yet again.
“You may no
t approve of my methods, but I’ve never lost a crewmember. I don’t intend to now.” Her track record was blemished beyond recognition. It surprised him she’d been handed the AEV Mark-I prototype on a silver platter. He didn’t get the reasoning behind some of Fleet Command’s recent decisions, though he suspected it was mounting to something big.
“I know you think I’m careless and stupid, and you insist on blaming me for getting Lauren and Sam killed. I know you will never forgive me, but they were my family too. I loved them as well.”
“Cut the crap, Kella. Don’t try to appeal to my softer side. When it comes to you, there is no softer side. Look, I’m grateful you saved me and my crew, but that in no way makes up for the loss of my wife and son!” He was too far down the rabbit hole to back out. “Sam was eight cycles old for God’s sake,” Aiden barked. “Eight!”
Spero sat on his foot and looked up at him with doggy eyes.
“Sir?” Harper cut in.
“What?” Aiden snapped, forgetting for a moment they were on an enemy ship.
“You’re on open comms, sir.”
“Freck.”
Aiden adjusted his holo and was glad no one could see his face inside his helmet. It was no secret what happened to his family, but the circumstances surrounding their disappearance remained under wraps because, at the end of the day, they still had to serve together.
“This is it,” Kellanie pointed ahead. “I think their Command Hub is this way,” she said through open comms again. Evidently the entire crew had only heard his side of things just now. Kellanie continued ahead. “Let’s hope they have what we came for.” She stepped through a hole that was once a door and into the pitch-dark room beyond.
“Wait!” Aiden wasn’t about to forgive her, but he wasn’t going to let her walk to her own death alone. She spouted off about protocol and rules, yet thought she was somehow exempt. “Hold the hell up, Kellanie. We need to move as a unit.”
He adjusted his light-beam to emit a wide allowance as Spero trotted a couple feet ahead and Harper followed behind. Before they stepped into the Terudithan Command Hub, he performed a visual—which was not only standard practice but common-damn-sense.
