by Ken Lozito
11
Connor walked the streets of New Haven, heading back to the ship. Diaz and Lockwood walked with him but didn’t speak much, content to leave Connor to his thoughts. He kept going over his meeting with Mayor Lawson, wondering what he could’ve done differently to achieve a more productive outcome. Perhaps he could’ve explained the situation better, and he considered going back to her office, but he dismissed the thought. Larson had been adamant in her position.
He began to wonder if he was just dealing with the fact that people didn’t really want to hear what was going on. Maybe they were content to let things keep going as they were, hoping a solution would eventually work itself out. Connor was reminded of the times before the Vemus War when the colony had become exhausted by a potential threat. Stanton Parish had leveraged this waning attitude to get elected to office.
They reached the ship, but Connor didn’t want to go inside. He looked toward the harbor in the distance and walked a few paces away, then shook his head. He didn’t even want to be there. He wanted to be back at Sanctuary where Lenora was. That was where he belonged, not out here trying to convince mayors that a government that spies on its citizens is bad. Larson had no issue grasping the problem, but had then turned the argument right back on him, asking how he’d discovered it if he wasn’t spying on them in turn. That attitude reflected old habits Connor had from what seemed like another person’s life. At this point, he felt like his time spent in counterterrorism in the NA Alliance Military might as well have been someone else’s life.
He looked at the sailboats docked in the harbor. They were gently rocking back and forth, looking peaceful and serene.
“It’s a beautiful site, isn’t it?”
Connor turned to see Gordon Summers striding toward him. He was a tall man with an active build despite his advanced age. With Prolonging, it wasn’t uncommon for a person to live past two hundred years, and Connor guessed that Gordon was over a hundred and fifty years old, at least.
Gordon came to a stop next to Connor. “You should see this place in the evening with the sun setting over the water. And we make a good drink from the fruit that grows nearby. Have you ever tasted it?”
“I’ve never had it.”
“I’ll send a case to you at Sanctuary,” Gordon said and paused for a moment. “I’m not going to a beat around the bush. I bet you’re thinking about the NEIIS bunker we found, and I’m willing to wager that you’re considering going to take a look for yourself.”
Connor shrugged. “The thought did cross my mind, to be perfectly honest with you.”
“I figured as much, but I tell you you’ll never find it, even with your shiny new toys,” Gordon said and jutted his chin toward the sky.
“You’d be surprised at what we’ve found so far.”
“I don’t doubt it, and that’s part of what bothers a lot of other people. Too many secrets and not enough collaboration. It’s also part of the reason I’m here.”
“Are you going to ask for my personal NEIIS translator on loan?”
Gordon shook his head. “Larson doesn’t want to take a side in the political upheaval you guys go on and on about, and I don’t care about any of that stuff.”
“You should, because it affects you. Did you know there’s a rogue group that’s taking NEIIS from these bunkers? I’ve seen it, and that’s why we don’t share all the bunkers we’ve found,” Connor said.
Gordon regarded Connor for a moment and then shook his head. “You mean someone other than you… No, don’t answer. We found something significant and unique. We’ve been trying to figure a way around it, but I keep coming up short. As much as it pains me to admit it, I need help. If the only way I’m going to get that help is to bring you with me, then that’s what I’ll do. I don’t care what the mayor says.”
“Just for the record, I haven’t done anything with the NEIIS bunkers other than marking their locations for later study. We’ve been looking for a particular faction.”
Gordon opened his wrist computer. “Would that faction happen to be associated with this symbol?” he asked, and a NEIIS symbol appeared on the holoscreen—a glowing emblem with a few wavy lines beneath it.
Connor’s eyes widened, and he looked at Gordon.
“I thought that would get your attention.”
“What about the mayor? I doubt she’d approve this,” Connor said.
Gordon smiled, showing a healthy set of pearly white teeth. “I’m not a politician, and I don’t care if you guys get along. But I do know the NEIIS are extremely important. Eventually, we’ll have to decide what happens with the stasis pods, which means we could be sharing this planet with another species. I, for one, want to know everything I can about them. Don’t you?”
Connor pressed his lips together for a moment and then nodded. “Alright, you’ve got my attention.”
“I’ll be in contact with you. There are some things I need to set up, arrangements to make and whatnot. I hope you don’t mind getting up early,” Gordon said.
“You’re assuming I sleep. I’m ready to go whenever you are.”
“Excellent. I’ll send coordinates for a rendezvous point, and we’ll take it from there,” Gordon said and walked away.
Connor watched him go, quickly losing him in the throng of people.
Diaz walked over. “What was that about?”
Connor told him, and then said, “So we’re not going to Delphi yet. This is too important.”
“Good. There are quite a few delicious restaurants here… What? A man’s got to eat. Even you. Come on,” Diaz said, beckoning for Connor to follow.
One thing he could always count on was Diaz’s propensity not to miss a meal. He called out to Tommy Lockwood to join them.
12
Sean sat at his desk while Major Brody stood at attention. There was no rustling of paper since they hardly ever used paper, and he didn’t have time for any of those intimidation tactics anyway, preferring to get straight to the point. He had Major Brody’s service records up on his internal heads-up display. He’d reviewed the service records of all of his senior staff when he’d taken command of the Vigilant, but this time he scrutinized them a little further than he’d initially done.
He made a swiping gesture with his hand, and the records disappeared. Major Lester Brody had served in the Colonial Defense Force for five years. He was fifty years of age but looked to be in his twenties due to Prolonging. Though they appeared similar in age, it was always the eyes that were a window into a person’s actual age. At the moment, Major Brody’s hazel eyes conveyed all the impassiveness of someone who was rigidly under control, but Sean knew better. Brody’s elevated heart rate, the slight flush of his cheeks, and the barely perceptible sheen of sweat along his brow said otherwise.
“What is the status of the forward weapons systems, Major?”
Major Brody’s gaze remained fixed on the wall behind Sean as he answered. “There were faulty regulators at the power distribution hub that are integrated with grasers one and two, along with the point-defense systems at the bow of the ship. The regulators suffered from a manufacturing defect that impacted the integrity of crucial internal components. I’ve been working with the engineering crew to get them fixed. Testing and validation has been slow going because it took us some time to get to the root of the problem. We’ve had to fabricate replacement units, which we’re in the process of installing.”
The major’s tone of voice was textbook respectful, and his report was straight to the point, giving all the information he needed without going into extensive detail. Sean had the impression, however, that if he were to ask for more information, Major Brody would be able to give all the details he could possibly want.
“This explains what you have been doing. What I’d like to know is why you haven’t delegated your responsibilities to Dr. Volker and the science team, who’ve essentially been left without CDF oversight,” Sean said.
At this, Major Brody’s gaze flicked toward Se
an. “Colonel, Dr. Volker made it abundantly clear that he neither wanted nor required CDF oversight for the Apollo Mission. Gabriel has been giving me regular status updates. Those updates indicated that Dr. Volker and his team have been highly agitated, which I attributed to the project timeline.”
Sean regarded the major for a moment, allowing the flimsy argument to air its foulness into the space between them. “Do I really need to remind you, Major, of our responsibilities to everyone on this ship? Dr. Volker may want a great many things, but he has neither the authority nor the knowledge to decide how best to execute the Apollo Mission while keeping within standard safety protocols on this ship. This is a joint effort between the CDF and the Colonial Sciences Institute. You had your orders, and you chose not to follow them. Our jobs require us to multitask so that nothing with the potential to slip through the cracks has disastrous results down the line. This is the moment where you get to explain yourself, Major.”
Major Brody’s smoldering gaze locked onto Sean’s. “I followed my orders to the letter, Colonel. The issue with the forward battery was a higher priority. This is a warship, not a place for handholding scientists.”
Sean stood up, and the muscles in his shoulders tightened. “We don’t get to pick and choose the orders we follow. Your actions lean toward negligence. You and I are the most senior officers on this ship. When we don’t work together, the ship and the crew suffer. Look at this,” he said and brought up a video feed of the forward hangar deck from twelve hours ago. “This is what happens when unqualified people make decisions they shouldn’t have to make. Take any emergency that could possibly happen on this ship, and those lives—those people you don’t think belong here,” Sean said, jabbing a finger toward the holoscreen, “will pay the price.”
Sean watched a furious range of emotions flicker across Major Brody’s stormy gaze, which lingered on the holoscreen for a moment. Everything in his record pointed to a soldier who took his duties seriously. Sean began to suspect what the problem was, and he wondered if the major admitted it even to himself, so he decided to prod him along.
“You were next in line to command the Vigilant,” Sean said.
Major Brody drew in a heavy breath and pulled his gaze away from the holoscreen. “Colonel, I have been negligent in my duties, and I will relieve myself of command. I will return to New Earth on the next available transport for my official disciplinary hearing, and you will get an XO the ship deserves.”
“Denied.”
Major Brody’s mouth hung open. “Colonel—”
“Denied, Major,” Sean repeated. “That means no. You don’t get to slink away with the I’ve-been-negligent-in-my-duties bullshit. I want to know what the issue is right now. Permission to speak freely, Major,” Sean said sternly.
Major Brody exhaled, giving Sean a look that was practically a sneer. “Off the record?”
Sean nodded and waited.
“I helped build this ship with the understanding that I would get to command her, and then General Hayes decides to hand her over to you. It was rumored that you didn’t even want to command this ship. It just seems to some of us senior officers that a great many opportunities are simply handed to you.”
Sean felt the faint traces of a sneer curl his own lips for a moment, and then he laughed. “Opportunities,” he said, his voice sounding deep and husky. “Special treatment.” Sean shook his head. “I can understand the frustration of being passed over for command. You may not like me, and I don’t really care. You don’t have to like me, and I’m not here to be your friend. We have a job to do. The strength of the CDF isn’t in a single person. I have this rank through the merits of my accomplishments, as do you and everyone else in the CDF. You have to trust the chain of command instead of reacting like a fresh-faced private who believes he should be in charge because he doesn’t know any better. You do. We are the CDF, and this isn’t about what we think is fair. We carry out our orders with absolute excellence to the best of our ability. We work as a team. You wanted something, and someone else got it. Tough shit. Am I supposed to be sympathetic that you feel slighted?”
Major Brody’s eyes widened. He apparently hadn’t expected Sean to speak as freely as he had. “No, Colonel.”
“That’s good because I’m not in the business of giving sympathy,” Sean said and paused for a moment. “Opportunities given to me—special treatment. You know, the last time I heard that term was before there even was a CDF.”
“I’ve heard the story. General Gates doubled your portion of any punishment given to that first Search and Rescue platoon.”
“That’s the story everyone’s heard. Do you think he stopped after all that?” Sean asked and shook his head. “He made use of everyone he could so we’d be prepared to face the Vemus. It didn’t matter what we wanted. We had a job to do. General Gates didn’t keep me as one of his go-to officers because I’d earned a special place in his heart. He kept me close because I always made myself useful, no matter what order I was given. Your service record speaks well of your experience. You may have gotten yourself into a funk because you didn’t like how the cards were dealt, but you’re hardly the first person to ever feel that way in the CDF, or any military for that matter.”
Major Brody’s gaze went back to the holoscreen that showed the complete disarray the science team had been reduced to working in. He shook his head. “I don’t know what to say, Colonel,” he said, and his voice wasn’t dripping with the barely contained anger that had gripped him earlier. “I’ve offered my resignation, and you’ve denied it. If you intend to keep me under your command, which I’m not sure is the best choice, then what should I do, sir?”
Sean gave him a steely-eyed gaze. “Be better. So, this is what I’ll do for you. After the Apollo Mission, we head to Sagan to investigate the site of the NEIIS ruins there. After that, we’ll receive new orders from CDF command. If by that time I’m not convinced that you should remain the Vigilant’s XO, I’ll grant your request. However, I don’t believe that anyone who’s worked as hard as you have will simply be fine if they give up. You want to sit in the commander’s chair? You need to earn it.”
Sean wasn’t naïve enough to think this conversation would resolve all the differences he had with his XO, but perhaps it would allow things to improve now that they’d aired out their differences.
“Understood, Colonel,” Major Brody replied.
Sean arched an eyebrow. “You look like you have more to say.”
“I didn’t expect this conversation to go the way it did, sir.”
“Understood. Return to the forward weapons systems and get them back online,” Sean said.
“Yes, Colonel,” Major Brody said.
They both left his office, with Sean stepping out first. Once he was in the corridor, he was hailed over the comms systems in the area.
“Colonel Quinn, please return to the bridge. We’ve detected a gravitational anomaly,” the comms specialist said.
“I’m on my way,” Sean replied.
Major Brody lingered for a moment, and Sean gestured for him to follow. Sean’s office wasn’t far from the main bridge, and they reached it quickly. Lieutenant Jane Russo relinquished the commander’s chair to him and returned to the tactical workstation.
“Status report?” Sean asked.
“The sensors picked up a gravitational anomaly. There were several powerful waves detected but no discernible source,” Lieutenant Russo said.
Sean frowned. Even faint traces of gravitational waves commonly required the presence of a massive celestial body like a neutron star or even a black hole. “No discernible source… What’s the probable distance from our position?”
“The first wave was detected three point seven AU from our current position… Colonel, the anomaly is gone,” Lieutenant Russo said, her brows knitted as she peered at her holoscreen intently.
“Check our sensors and run diagnostic,” Sean said and looked at Major Brody. “Full use of our forward weapons wou
ld be nice, Major.”
Major Brody nodded. “Understood, Colonel,” he said and left the bridge.
“Comms, set Condition Two,” Sean said.
“Yes, sir,” Specialist Sansky said and then opened a ship-wide broadcast. “Action stations. Action stations. Set Condition Two throughout the ship. This is not a drill.”
13
“Excuse me, Captain.”
Action stations, action stations. Set Condition Two throughout the ship. This is not a drill.
Captain Halsey glanced up at the ship-wide broadcast as Dr. Volker came over to him, his face drawn in concern. The last time any ship in the CDF fleet had been set to Condition Two status was during the Vemus Wars.
“Excuse me, Captain. May I have a moment of your time?” Dr. Volker asked.
Halsey turned toward the Apollo Mission lead and nodded.
“What is Condition Two? Should we be concerned?” Dr. Volker asked.
Halsey frowned. “I’m not sure. Colonel Quinn wouldn’t have set Condition Two without good reason.”
“Yes, but what does it mean?” Dr. Volker asked again.
Halsey hid a frown of annoyance. Though the science team wasn’t in the CDF, they still should’ve been familiar with the standard protocols of the ships they were on. But Volker wasn’t anywhere near as arrogant as he’d been before Colonel Quinn spoke with him, so Halsey supposed he could let this slide.
“Condition Two indicates that there’s either a probable threat to the ship or we’re entering a possibly hostile situation.”
Dr. Volker’s eyes widened, and he became pale. “The Vemus?”
Halsey shook his head. “I don’t think so. They would’ve said if they thought the Vemus was a possibility.”
Dr. Volker seemed to nod to himself and then glanced at his team. More than a few of them were looking in their direction while they also tried to focus on their work.
“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Halsey said.
