Dark Space (6 page)

   “You’re worried something
will happen to jeopardize our alliance with the Empire?”

   Ramos unclasped his hands,
nodded, and then folded his arms across his chest. “And if it does, this is
about the worst place it could happen. We’re staring down the barrel of a
loaded gun here, Shawn, and it’s got me quaking in my proverbial boots.”

   Shawn understood the
trepidation. “Then why jump here?”

   “Simple: Sector Command
wants to draw the Meltranians farther away from the Inner Sphere.”

   “You mean, if they decide
to follow us.”

   “Right, which I don’t think
they will. If anything, I’d say the Unified Council wants to push the
frontlines even closer to the dark space.”

  
The Darkness, as the
Kafarans call it.
That black area of space, purported home to the
Meltranians, mostly devoid of hospitable planets, located on the far side of
Kafaran territory. “To intercept them before they even get beyond Kafaran
space?”

   “Yep. And it seems the
Kafarans are
more
than happy to have us here.”

   Shawn knew where this was
going. “Because if we do defeat the Meltranians …”

   “The bulk of our forces
will be decidedly in Kafaran space.” Ramos then turned to Shawn and a devilish
smile crossed his face. “And just ripe for the picking.”

   “So, if we’re here, then
who’s going to take care of the Meltranians already near our space?”

   “Admiral Hansen said it’ll
be 1
^st
Fleet’s responsibility. I’ve been reassured that it’s being
handled, and that it’s no longer our concern. In any case, we’re here now, and
we need to start making the best of things.”

   As the
Duchess
neared the planet, Shawn caught the glimmer of sunlight reflecting off a point
hanging just above the northern pole. Even at this distance he knew it to be a
ship—and quite a large one. “We expecting any guests?” he asked with a nod
toward Ogolo.

   “The
Rhea
,” Ramos replied.
“Her Marines are down on the surface right now.”

   “Then she’s been repaired?”
Shawn asked. The explosion several months ago that had wiped out most of her
engineering team was thought by many to have been fatal.

   “With capital ships in
short supply, the admiralty put extra effort into making sure she was rushed
into the yards. I have to tell you, I’m glad she’s back in the fight. We could
use the help.”

   Shawn looked out to the
small speck that was the supercarrier
Rhea.
Was he going to get transferred
back? What about Raven and the rest of the squadron? Was Krif still on board?

   “In case you’re wondering,
you’re staying on board the
Duchess
.”

   Shawn’s eyes shifted to the
captain. Was it possible the man was a telepath? Nonetheless, Shawn was pleased
at the disclosure. “Good,” he said with an approving nod.

   “The
Rhea
’s been
outfitted with new equipment and personnel. I’ve been told that some of it is
classified.”

   “New weapons?”

   Ramos shrugged his wide
shoulders. “Anything about it would be speculation at this point. Admirals
Hansen and Graves are about as giddy as schoolgirls over it, though.”

   “How so?”

   “Oh, that’s all they’ve
been talking about for two days. Nearly every conversation has to do with the
Rhea
and the new equipment she’s carrying. I’m sure it has something to do with the Marines
stationed planetside, but again … it’s all—”

   “Speculation,” Shawn
finished.

   “Exactly. And I hate not
knowing. Makes me even more nervous.”

   “Understood,” Shawn agreed
heartily. “What’s the story with the Marines?”

   “The 92
^nd
Expeditionary Unit’s been down there for a few weeks setting up fortified
positions around the populace centers.”

   Shawn recalled all too well
the effects of the Meltranians’ isotonic cannons, and their frightful
efficiency at destroying planetside installations. “I’m not convinced the
Meltranians are interested in ground warfare. They could be sitting ducks down
there.”

   Ramos nodded with a grunt.
“I voiced that very same concern to Admiral Hansen. Both he and Graves seem …
unconcerned
.
I think it has to do with the special equipment aboard the
Rhea
. Our
orders are to make sure that both the carrier and the Marines below are well
shielded from orbital attack … assuming the Meltranians come at all.”

   Shawn nodded as his eyes
moved from the carrier to the planet below.
Was it possible that the Unified
scientists had indeed perfected the Project Windstorm torpedo?
While such a
weapon could turn the tide of the war in their favor, Shawn almost shuddered at
the idea of deploying it. The awesome, destructive power could be orders of
magnitude higher than anything the Meltranians had in their arsenal, and would
almost certainly prolong the conflict.

   Ramos looked around the
sill of the large window, glanced back toward the crew hard at work at their
stations, then back to Shawn. “I bet all this makes you wish you were back on
Minos.”

   “You can say that again,” Shawn
said quickly, then amended his statement. “But, just like Ogolo and every other
planet in Beta sector, Minos is just another target to the invaders. Sooner or
later they’d have come knocking on our door, and I’d be even more powerless to
stop them than I am now.” He thought back to the planet Persephone and his
friend, Toyotomi Katashi. Having received his shipment of weapons from Shawn
several months ago, Toyo was more than equipped to take care of himself—for a
short time, anyway. But Toyo had assumed it would be the Kafarans, not a new
threat, that would attack his world. Was Toyo up for a sustained guerrilla war
against the Meltranians if it came down to it? From what Shawn had seen of the
invaders’ power and ruthlessness, he knew the answer was a resounding “no.”
“I’m here because this is where I need to be, Darian,” Shawn said, referring to
the captain by his first name. “The people of Beta sector, including the ones I
care about, are counting on us to do the best we can.”

   Ramos smirked. “So, you’re
saying that if Krif hadn’t come knocking on your door at Minos, you’d have
joined back up anyway?”

   Shawn had asked himself the
very same question a hundred times in the last few months, and each time he’d
never had an answer. So when one sprang from his lips after only a moment’s
consideration, it surprised him. “Without a doubt.”

   Ramos chewed the statement
over in his mind. “Admirable.”

   “There isn’t a day that
goes by that I don’t wonder what the hell I’m doing here. I think ‘foolhardy’
would be a better term.”

   “You’re an interesting
dichotomy, Commander. On the one hand you know what you have to do, and you’re
convinced you can do it, and on the other you’re trying to justify your place
in all this.”

   “One thing you’ll find out
about me is that my brain can be a bag of nuts and bolts about things like
this; you shake it up enough and something’s bound to thread together.”

   “And the rest?” Ramos
asked, looking at Shawn thoughtfully. “What happens when it doesn’t come
together? Or, more aptly, what happens when it falls apart in the cockpit?”

   Shawn tilted his head
slightly at the captain without looking at him. “You’ve got wings on your chest
the same as me. You should know.”

   Ramos nodded. “Yeah. I
think we’ve all been there.” He then hooked a thumb over his shoulder, but
still out of sight of the crewmen behind him. “But some of the people … most of
them, I think … have no idea. That’s why you are where you are, Shawn. Those
pilots down there in berthing, and the ones out in space right now on patrol … they
need your help, whether they know it or not. You’re no good to them dead.”

   “Still trying to justify
landlocking me behind a desk?”

   “No. I wouldn’t do that.
Speaking as a former pilot—and a friend—I know how much this is upsetting you.
It’s a bum deal, I know it.”

   Shawn gave him a confused
look. “And here I thought you were the one telling me earlier this is a great
career move for me.”

   Ramos looked at him sternly.
“It is, Shawn. But don’t think for a minute I’m being pragmatic about the whole
thing. If an officer transitions into the CAG position smoothly, normally, it’s
because it’s the best thing for his career. If he’s forced into doing it, it’s
because it’s the best thing for the fleet.”

   “You saying that you took
the job kicking and screaming?”

   Ramos chuckled lightly.
“That would have been difficult, all things considered.”

   Shawn turned to the captain.
“What do you mean?”

   Ramos looked over his shoulder,
and noticing the no one was watching, turned back and locked eyes with Shawn.
He then nodded down toward the deck where his hand was now patting his left
thigh.

   Shawn glanced down, eyeing
the gesture, then turned his gaze back into the captain’s.

   “I lost most of it at
Epsilon Tiranan,” Ramos nearly whispered. 

   Shawn’s expression turned
serious. “What happened?”

   Ramos shrugged almost
imperceptibly. “Surprise attack while I was out on patrol. My fighter took a
direct hit; the cockpit depressurized. Luckily I was near the carrier and was
able to make an emergency landing.” He then smiled playfully. “Unfortunately,
not
all
of me was so blessed. The shrapnel from an exploding console all
but severed it above the knee. The doctors were able to repair almost all the
major arterial damage, but I lost most of the leg in the process. Got this damn
twitchy biotronic prosthetic now. Of course, I was dropped from flying status
after the surgery. Been landlocked, as you so eloquently put it, ever since.”

   “Damn shame,” Shawn
muttered apologetically. “I heard about the battle, but I hadn’t met anyone who
made it out of it.”

   Ramos’s eyes became
distant, forlorn. “Not many did. Anyway, like I said, you’ll get used to the
new job … and you may even come to like it. I did … after a while.”

   “I can see why you might
have some reservations about the Kafarans. After what they did to you—”

   Ramos sighed and shook his
head. “I did it to myself, Shawn. I made a bad call, and tried to attack when I
should have evaded. It was a stupid decision … pure, unadulterated pilot error.
If I’d had a commander like yourself guiding me, I likely wouldn’t have made
such a critical error in judgment in a blind panic.” Ramos then turned back to
the wide view port. “Having said that, whatever you choose to do about Nova is
entirely up to you, and I want you to know that you’ll have my full support.”

   Shawn was taken aback by
the statement, and was unable to hide his surprise. “How do you know about
that?”

   Ramos snickered. “You don’t
get to be a fleet captain without knowing what’s going on at all times with all
your people. Besides, I was in CIC during the battle. I don’t know the
particulars of what happened out there today, and I’m not asking for them right
now. Just know that, as my equal, you should be aware of what’s on in my mind …
just as I should be about yourself. We’re going to need that kind of relationship
if we want these people to survive to go back home to their loved ones.” The
doors to the bridge opened, drawing their attention. It was Melissa, and she
seemed to have something on her mind as she walked toward them. “Or the ones on
board the ship,” Ramos muttered sideways.

   “What?” Shawn asked
defensively, but was silenced when Ramos held out a hand to Melissa.

   “Agent Graves, I don’t
believe we’ve had the formal pleasure.”

   “Captain Ramos,” she said,
taking his hand and nodding smartly. The two men looked as if they had just
been caught with their hands in the same proverbial cookie jar. “I hope I’m not
interrupting anything.” Her tone was inquisitive. 

   “Not at all,” Ramos beamed.
“The commander and I were just discussing the finer points of command in
sometimes difficult situations.”

   Melissa’s eye shifted to
Shawn, who simply bobbed his head deftly. The fact that the commander’s eyes
darted quickly to Ramos’s was also not lost on her. “Respectfully, would you
mind if I borrowed the commander for a short time?” she asked.

   Ramos bowed his head
slightly. “By all means, Agent Graves.” Ramos then turned to Shawn, concealing
his face from Melissa, and smiled at Shawn softly. Just as quickly, the expression
faded as Ramos straightened his posture. “Carry on
smartly
, Commander
Kestrel.”

   Shawn snapped a salute,
which was returned briskly. “Aye, sir.”

“When you’re light-years
away from a port in the storm, you have to be able to place the ultimate trust
in your people. It’s the glue of life. Sometimes—out here in the void—it’s all
that brings your ship back home. However, with that trust comes great power,
and when that power is abused, the culprit must be held accountable … or
there’s no point to it all, and we might as well have given up Beta Sector to
the Meltranians, Kafarans, or anyone else long ago.”

-Admiral
William Graves, Unified Sector Command (Ret.)

   Once outside the bridge,
Melissa wordlessly moved toward the nearest elevator. As Shawn stepped in
behind her, she immediately ordered the doors shut and secured.

   “I thought you were going
to follow Jerry,” he said.

   “I did. I mean, I was.”

   He folded his arms across
his gray uniform. “What do mean, you were?”

   She looked concerned, about
as concerned as he’d ever seen her. “I followed him to the wardroom, where he
got a bite to eat. Afterward, he made his way to his cabin.”

   “Sounds pretty innocent,”
he said with a shrug.

   “Right, but not where he
went next. Care to offer a guess?”

   “I hear the rose bushes are
coming into bloom in the arboretum.”

   At that she cocked an
eyebrow. “And just why would
you
be interested in that?”

   Shawn offered a shocked
expression. “What? Can’t a guy take interest in flowers?”

   She shook her head
unconvincingly. “Cheeky answer, but no, that’s not where he went.”

   “Then where? Engineering?”

   She shook her head. “No.
One of the communications rooms.”

   This got his undivided
attention. “Oh, now that
is
a bit more peculiar than roses.”

   “To say the least.”

   Shawn knew that there were
a half-dozen such communications compartments on a carrier the size of the
Duchess
.
“Where?”

   “Deck Seven, aft.”

   Shawn nodded.
The
auxiliary communications room. Small, sparsely manned, and far enough away to
not rouse any suspicion.
In fact, the compartment was so small Shawn
doubted that Melissa and Jerry could have both been in the space without
noticing one another. However, Shawn also knew that every command
space—including all communications rooms—were specially coded, highly secured
spaces.

   “He didn’t have a problem
gaining access?” he asked.

   “Got in without so much as
a whisper,” she said. “Just swiped his ident card and walked right in.”

   “Only officers ranking lieutenant
commander or higher can have direct access to those compartments, and even
then—if you’re below a captain—you need to be escorted while inside.”

   Melissa nodded, pulling a
strand of auburn hair from the front of her face and pushing it behind her ear.
“It seems that Mister Santorum has gotten a hell of a promotion.”

   “Certainly not on approval
from me.” Shawn mulled over the possibilities in his mind for a moment, then
leaned back against the side of the lift. “What happened next?”

   “I set a personal scanner
outside, programmed it to trip as soon as anyone walked out of the compartment.
Then I hid myself and waited.”

   “Broom closet?” he asked
wryly.

   She remembered their first
conversation, when after asking for Shawn’s help in locating a missing person,
Shawn had gruffly asked her if she needed help finding the one who had dropped
a house on her witch sister. “Funny. No. It was a conduit cool room.”

   “Brr.” Shawn shivered,
remembering how he’d hidden in such a space during a prank on a fellow junior
officer long ago. “What then?”

   “I waited until the sensor
was tripped. Once Santorum left the communications compartment I went inside to
see what he’d accessed.”

   “Wait,” he said as he held
up a hand. “You have access to command and control spaces?”

   She looked at him as if
asking if his question was a serious one.

   “Oh, right,” he corrected.
“I keep forgetting … you’re a
super-spy
.”

   “Covert operative,
Commander. Stop calling me a spy. It’s so …”

   “Accurate?”

   “Demeaning,” she growled.
“Besides, as the ranking OSI officer on the ship, I’ve got unfettered access to
any compartment on this vessel. Anyway, after a bit of investigating—”

   “Spying.”

   She rolled her eyes. “I
found that he’d accessed both the backup long-range data transmitter array and
a series of folders hidden on the
Duchess
’s tertiary computer core.”

   “Both seldom used … both
seldom monitored,” he agreed. “Who was he talking to?”

   She pursed her lips. “He
wasn’t talking, per se. He was transmitting data.”

   “Okay. So, to
whom
was he transmitting this data, and what was it?”

   “He tried encrypting the
coordinates, but I’m beginning to think your theory about him being a poorly
trained
spy
was more accurate than I initially believed.”

   A smile crept across
Shawn’s face. “You cracked it.”

   “I cracked it,” she said,
looking extremely pleased with herself.

   “And?”

   “Vega Sector.”

   “Vega sector?” Shawn
repeated in confusion.

   “The Torval system, to be
precise.”

   Shawn’s eyes went wide.
“Torval, as in—”

   She nodded. “Yes and no.
While the Torval system was once a safe haven of … space traders of less-than-virtuous
ethics—”

   “I agree: pirates,
cutthroats, and murderers
can
be defined as traders with less than
virtuous ethics.”

   “Yes, yes,” she said and
dismissed his words with a wave of her hand. “It’s been long abandoned. The OSI
kept a sharp eye on it for a while, but even they lost interest about three or
four years ago.”

   Shawn recalled that, during
the Galactic War, a virulent plague had come down to the planet from a stray
freighter that had wandered into orbit. Sensing no life signs aboard—and being
the opportunists that the people of Torval were known to be—they’d guided the
craft down to the surface in hopes of plundering its cargo holds. All they
found was a dead crew. One by one, the citizens of Torval began falling ill.
Not long after, there was a mass exodus from the “Planet of Death,” as it would
soon come to be known in the interstellar trade lanes.

   “I find it hard to believe
the Office of Special Intelligence loses interest in anything.”

   “It may surprise you to
know, Shawn, that at any given time there are hundreds, if not thousands of
operations going on in Beta Sector. For one planet to fall through the cracks
is not unheard of, nor is it implausible to think that the OSI had better
things to do than watch dead worlds.”

   “Uh huh,” he muttered.
“Just like they stopped watching Second Earth. We all know how
that
came
back to bite them in the—”

   Melissa backed off
slightly. “Point well taken. So … now, it seems, we have another world that
demands our attention.”

   “I’m fairly certain Ramos
has an anchor chain tying me to a desk right now,” he said, hooking his thumb
toward the bridge doors. “Besides, you still haven’t told me what Jerry
transmitted to the planet, nor who received it. I’m pretty sure Ramos would
like to know them before he alters the ship’s course.”

   Her head wagged. “Both are …
a little fuzzy.”

   Shawn raised an eyebrow.
“How fuzzy are we talking about?”

   “Like trying to read a
computer screen from a hundred yards away fuzzy.”

   “I’ve got pretty good
eyesight.”

   “Well, I don’t. I’ve made a
copy of the transmission,” she said, then held up a small data cartridge, “not
that it’s going to do any good. I’ve never seen anything like it. We’re going
to need someone with more expertise to analyze this.”

   Shawn nodded, thinking back
to his new assignment and the responsibilities Ramos had given him. “Where is
Santorum now?”

   “His quarters. My guess is
that he’s turned in for the night.” She saw a look cross over Shawn’s face, one
she had come to know well. “You thinking of paying him a visit?”

   “Do roses have thorns?”

   “You’re the blooming
botanist here, Mister Arboretum. You tell me.”

   “Come on. We don’t have
much time.”

%%%

   Rounding the final corner,
Shawn and Melissa came to a halt outside Santorum’s quarters. Pressing the door
chime, Shawn waiting patiently for the lieutenant to answer. He wasn’t sure
where he was going to begin when Nova opened the door, but he was certain that
it wasn’t going to be good. 

   “Are you sure we shouldn’t
inform the captain first?” Melissa asked.

   Shawn shook his head as he
looked at the still closed door. “No. I want to have this conversation before
we go any further. Rest assured, though, that no matter what, Ramos is going to
know about it soon.”

   A moment later, one of the
nearby doors opened, startling Melissa and drawing Shawn’s attention. It was
Roslyn Brunel. She looked from Shawn to Melissa, then back to her former
commander. Sensing something was hiding behind Shawn’s normally cool exterior,
she pressed him for answers. “Something up, Shawn?”

   “Nothing you need to
concern yourself with, Raven,” he replied, then turned back to the door and
pressed the button once again.
Where the hell was he?

  
“I beg to differ,” she said, folding her
arms across her chest. “Nova’s one of my people, and I think you’d be asking
the same question if the roles were reversed here.”

   “I don’t have time for
this,” he muttered to the closed door as much as to Roslyn.

   “Well, you can press that
button until the cows come home, but he’s not going to answer.”

   Shawn turned from the door
and moved closer to his former first officer. “Why not?”

   “Because he’s not in
there,” Raven said matter-of-factly.

   “Then where the hell is
he?” Shawn asked, quickly losing patience with the situation.

   “Why? So you can give him
another grilling?”

   Shawn looked at her with a
mix of anger and surprise. “You know about that?”

   “Yeah, I do. He told me all
about it. But I should have heard it from
you
first, Shawn. He’s one of
my pilots. As his commander, I should have been a part of that briefing.”

   “I had every intention of
informing you, Raven, but now—”

   “But you didn’t,” she cut
him off, “and I can’t begin to tell you how upset that makes me.”

   “I can see how angry you
are,” he said, trying to remain calm. “But this is bigger than just a simple
misunderstanding. There are things at work here that are—not to put too fine a
point on it—that are above your pay grade.” He regretted the words as soon as
they came out, and the expression that crossed her face told him he’d made a
mistake.

   “Oh, then we’ll just have
to make them right in my pay grade,” she said with a scowl. “If you think you
can just dress down my people and—”

   Surprising himself,
Melissa, and most importantly Raven, Shawn reached out with both hands and
grasped the newly promoted commander’s shoulders. However, the expression of
shock on her face was profoundly more physically comfortable than the kick to
his groin he was expecting. “Roslyn, we don’t have time for this. I know Jerry
is your friend, and despite anything you may think to the contrary, he’s one of
mine as well. But something has happened here, and unfortunately it’s not
something I can talk about with you right now, but it’s
extremely
important I get to Nova before anyone else finds out what I’ve discovered.”
Taking a deep breath, he glanced at Melissa, who had a look of worry on her
face. Licking his lips, he turned back to Raven and softened his tone. “If you
really want to help him, you’ll tell me where he is.”

   Roslyn’s breathing slowed
and her rigid body slacked somewhat under Shawn’s hands. Releasing her, he
stepped a half-pace back. She reached for her shoulders where Shawn had grabbed
her.

   “I’m sorry,” Shawn
muttered. “I shouldn’t have—”

   “It’s all right … just … it’s
fine,” she said as she tried to shrug off the altercation. “I shouldn’t have
popped off to you like that … sir.”

   Shawn could see the apology
was heartfelt, and while he was impatient to find Santorum, he didn’t want this
moment to pass without saying something. “You’re among friends here, Roslyn. We
can stow the ‘sir’ stuff.”