The Epherium Chronicles: Embrace (23 page)

She opened a new file, whose contents scrolled across the screen. She handed the data pad to Sanchez. “Hamels and McCraken identified several files that were accessed on the terminal in the Epherium office. All of the files they identified were copied, but a few were erased. Hamels is still trying to recover the erased data, but has thus far been unsuccessful.”

Sanchez watched the data scroll past, and he stopped it occasionally. “What is this?”

Maya’s gaze landed on Sanchez. “According to McCraken, these are the personnel files for everyone on board each of the colony ships.”

“Why would anyone want those, let alone kill for it?” Hood said. He looked briefly at his uncle’s picture on the wall then back at Maya. “Wouldn’t that information be publicly available?”

Maya nodded. “A majority of it yes, but we are still correlating the differences between the data here and the more widely circulated version.”

Sanchez handed the data pad back to Maya and posed another question. “What about the data that was erased? Does McCraken have any idea what was in those files?”

“He believes they are more personnel records, but is unsure to what they pertain. Hamels has some leads on recovering the data, but he cannot give me an accurate time estimate,” Maya explained as she stood. “I’m headed to medical to interview Lieutenant Krieg. If he got a good look at his assailant, it will be extremely useful, but could also put him in danger.”

Patton and Sanchez also stood to leave as Hood took a deep breath. “Thank you everyone, dismissed.”

* * *

Maya Greywalker rubbed her eyes gently, as she continued to review video footage of the hallway outside the Epherium office before Lieutenant Krieg’s arrival. Her interview with the young lieutenant had been brief, but had given her a few more leads to chase.

According to Krieg, the last thing he remembered was standing outside the office waiting for the doors to open. The video footage did show him waiting briefly at the door then entering the room with no incident.

His statement concerning his reason for coming to the offices was also mysterious. Krieg mentioned he received a message from McCraken inviting him to the Epherium office for an interview. Maya had followed up the discussion with McCraken as well, but he claimed never to have sent any message. Neither of them was lying.

She had Hamels look into the message while she looked for any trace of the assailant. She was positive now that Krieg was a pawn in the actions that took place in the office, but why? What was the connection? Her mind raced as she tried to put the pieces together, but another piece was still missing. If the killer was not one of the staff or Krieg, how did he get into the office and avoid the hallway cameras?

Her system beeped as her records search concluded. Maya reviewed the results and smiled in satisfaction. She was about to activate a comm channel to Hood, when a call from Hamels came in.

Maya opened the channel. “This is Greywalker. What do you have, Sergeant?”

“The message definitely did not come from the Epherium office,” Hamels said. “The origination ID was masked pretty well, but I was able to trace it down to that security station the taser came from.”

“Excellent job, Sergeant. How about the deleted data? Any progress?”

“Getting there, but even with the computer’s help it may take hours or days. I’ll comm you with an update in a few hours. Hamels out.”

Maya closed the channel and opened a new one to Hood, who answered immediately. “Captain, I need to speak with you, privately.”

Hood voice sounded tired. “Alright, my office, ten minutes.”

* * *

Maya sat next to Hood as they stared at a video replay on his terminal. From what Hood could tell, that video was some sort of memorial service on Earth, but couldn’t recognize anyone. “Okay, Lieutenant, what am I looking at?”

“This is the funeral service for the victims at Kendrick.” She quickly pointed to the screen at a figure seated down front. It was Lieutenant Krieg.

“Okay. I understand that Krieg was there. His sister was at Kendrick, but...” Hood stopped as he watched a man walk onto the stage and start speaking. It was Henry McCraken. “Well, well. So this puts the two of them together at some point, but why does it matter? You already told me that Krieg’s invitation to the office was false. Are you suggesting that McCraken could have instigated this?”

Maya shook her head. “No, I’m fairly certain that McCraken would have been a target as well if he had not managed to hide during the attack. That may explain the reason why our intruder was unable to completely cover his tracks while in the system. Time was against him. He had to be clear and away from the office well before the bodies were discovered. It’s quite possible that Krieg’s arrival interrupted the process and altered the killer’s timeline of events.”

Maya pulled out her data pad and accessed the search results she had compiled earlier in her office. “After doing some digging, it turns out that McCraken was the project manager for the terraforming experiment on Kendrick, that’s why he was speaking at the funeral. I reviewed the records, and there are two other crew members on board with some level of connection to Kendrick. Like Krieg, they had family members that died in the accident, but the family losses were distant, not blood relatives. Krieg’s was the closest to home, making him a viable fall guy.”

“Are you suggesting some grand conspiracy?”

Maya face grew tight and her voice changed from her more melodic tone to one of pure steel. “Captain, someone has managed to connect the dots here, someone with access to very restricted files and with that, managed to orchestrate this series of events.”

Hood turned off the video and looked at his Security Chief. “It seems to me that we are dealing with a lot of feints and misdirection. What’s the ‘why’ here?”

“Information seems to be the real target, but for what reason, I don’t know,” she said reluctantly. “Hopefully Hamels can find a link in the data, but all my other leads haven’t produced the connection yet.”

“We need that data, Lieutenant, and I want to know the reason behind this before we jump again. I will delay what I can to give you more time, but we need to keep moving.”

Maya turned her chair to face Hood’s. “I have an idea I want to run by you while my people are trying to get that data.”

Hood sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. “All right, Lieutenant. I’m listening.”

“I think we can agree that Krieg’s involvement in this is meant to mislead us, but I would like to use him ourselves. I want to have him reinstated to duty and put under covert surveillance,” Maya said confidently. “Whoever is involved in the attack on the Epherium office had access to camera vids and some of our more restricted areas on the ship. Since they raided the armory, even the security zones are at risk.”

Maya pulled out her data pad and displayed the camera feeds around the Epherium office and some of the crew quarters. “I’ve left the camera access untouched, but I instituted a change in all the door access codes. With all that’s happened, it would be seen as standard protocol. It’s my hope that our killer may slip up and try to come after Lieutenant Krieg in the open.”

“That’s quite a risk you’re suggesting, Lieutenant,” Hood said disapprovingly. “Are you sure you can protect him?”

“It will take some work to get my people in the right places, but I believe it can be done,” Maya said. “I want to have him restricted to quarters first. Let whoever’s watching see him. The question is, will our man take the bait?”

Hood rubbed his face in resigned frustration. “All right,” he reluctantly agreed. “Get your people in place. I’ll have Dr. Patton release Lieutenant Krieg back to his quarters, and I’ll have Mr. Walsh reinstate him when we’re ready. Mr. Whitaker requested some extra time to do some tweaking of the batteries, so I’ll schedule our next jump for 06:00 tomorrow. That should give you about twenty hours to put your plan into action, and your team to get us some information.”

Maya smiled, and her blue eyes beamed with anticipation. “Not to worry, sir. We won’t let you down.”

After Maya left his office, Hood looked at the chessboard on the table near his bed. His new game with Aldridge had them making move after counter-move in a dance to see who would break first. He walked back several moves and examined each potential play looking for anything that could give him a new clue to his opponent’s strategy. Or was it just a smokescreen? Like the chess game, the whole scenario with Lieutenant Krieg and Epherium had given him the feeling he was being played, and the real strike could come from directly in front of him, without him recognizing what was happening until it was too late.

* * *

Hamels slurped the last of his cold coffee and placed his mug with the other three on the edge of his office desk. He had been sitting in front of his terminal at his security station for nearly sixteen hours now, and he needed a break. His backside was sore from sitting that long, and he had to constantly stretch his legs to shake off the tingle from them falling asleep. He needed to go to the bathroom, but he was sure his legs would revolt once he stood. Placing his head down toward his right shoulder, he took a whiff of his shirt, and the smell of body odor and stale coffee almost made him gag.

He was close to uncovering the deletion algorithm but, despite his best efforts, all his attempts at recovery had failed. It wasn’t easy for him to admit defeat, and he was about to give up for the evening when a new idea sprang into his head. He tried to modify the algorithm to compensate for a new variable, time encoding during the deletion itself. It was a long shot, but something he hadn’t considered. He added the variable to the algorithm and instructed the computer to execute a new recovery of the data.

It took the computer about fifteen minutes to completely restore the files, and he quickly loaded them onto his data pad. Once he transferred the files, he placed the data pad in his security satchel by his feet and started to examine the contents of the files on his screen.

As he continued to sort through the files in different windows, the door to the security office hissed open. “Tom, you have to see this, man. Whoever tried to erase these files used some nifty stuff, but...”

He never heard the click of the pistol behind him, as the intruder pointed it at his head and pulled the trigger. Hamels’ now lifeless body slumped over the terminal with a slight thud and was carefully moved out of the way by his killer. The killer wiped the terminal screen of blood and brain matter with Hamels’ jacket and quickly began typing on the keyboard. One by one, each element of Hamels’ discoveries began to disappear.

Chapter Seventeen

EDF Armstrong
Deep Space Route to Cygni
Thursday
,
January 23
Earth Year 2155
Two Hours Until Fifth Jump

Aldridge walked back to her seat at the Tactical Station fresh from her discussion with the Sensors team, and she had a feeling her briefing to the captain would be less than promising. Captain Hood had ordered a deep scan of the next jump area via the hyper beacon, but the meeting had raised some very valid concerns.

Ensign Pershing and his team had carefully reviewed the impacts of the additional load on the hyper beacon’s systems, and the current level of scans the
Armstrong
were performing before each jump alone were already stressing the older systems employed in the beacons. Expansion of the range or grid patterns based on all the simulations was sure to fry the beacon’s bridge circuits that were crucial for communication and their current method of advanced scans.

The meeting wasn’t completely without viable options however, but Aldridge was sure that Hood wouldn’t be happy with them. The best solution her team had found was to focus the scan range to a narrow band which would allow for a more in-depth scan and at greater range. This scan could be configured to cover a good portion of the asteroid belt and would include the normal gravimetric and EM scans the
Armstrong
used for threats and space-fold events, but many of the other scans, unfortunately, would have to be left out. The disappointing piece to the plan was that due to the focused area of the scans, the beacon would need to be rotated remotely on aging thrusters to align the beacon’s antenna array for each grid. The process would be slow with the several separate grids involved, and timing would have to be precise to ensure the grids did not overlap.

As she sat down, Aldridge chuckled at the image of another lecture on risk from Hood that played out in her mind. The captain was by far the most personable CO she had ever worked for, but when it came to tactical analysis and threat assessments, he was all business, and there was no one better at it.

After she left the academy, her initial interview to join the
Achilles
was a scenario options nightmare. The test he provided her was a complex scenario for a teamed engagement of four ships each, not much different than some of the ones she had encountered during her final year of study. To her surprise, he provided a simulation for the exercise based on her findings against his own, without even looking at her assessment. She lost every engagement.

Even though she was fully demoralized, Hood sat her down to discuss the interview in front of all things, a chess board. He explained that the chess board was a symbol of a battlefield, much like a combat simulation. Each piece, like a ship, had a role, purpose and function to understand and use like a tool. While using the tools properly, a gifted strategist could use them to craft a masterpiece, much like an artist. Hood calmly stressed that the real trick to mastering combat tactics was understanding your opponent. He called it his “David and Goliath principle.” For him the story wasn’t just a lesson of faith, but also a template. Even the most modestly armed combatant can adapt and overcome with an understanding of how an opponent will act or react in any situation. Of course when it came to chess, most would be happy with a view of three moves in the future, but Hood stressed five.

But tactics were only part of the equation, Hood had told her. In real combat, you must understand the human element. The ships and figures she would see on her screen during a fight represented real people, people who would depend on her, and would recognize that in battle, casualties will happen. Sometimes, in order for a mission to succeed, good men and women would have to lay down their lives. The final decision was the Commanding Officer’s responsibility, but a good Tactical Officer keeps the losses to a minimum and ensures success.

Aldridge gathered her data pad and was about to head toward the elevator lift when Hood walked up next to her. “Ah, Captain. I was just coming to find you. I wanted to go over Ensign Pershing’s and my plan for a new scan grid before the next jump.”

Hood seemed to look past her for a few moments, almost if he didn’t acknowledge that she was speaking to him. She was about to reach out and touch his shoulder to get his attention, when he slightly frowned and looked at her with a bit of anxious anticipation. “Aldridge, good. I imagine you have a plan for our new scans?”

Aldridge raised an eyebrow in concern. “Sir, are you okay?”

“Nothing a little sleep won’t fix, Lieutenant,” he said. “I know I have been a bit distracted lately. Just trying to put loose ends together.” He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “What do you have for me?”

Aldridge handed him her data pad. “My team went over several options, and this one we believe is the best, sir. If we start now, we can complete the scans and gain a fifteen minute window to adjust settings if we run into problems.”

Hood yawned as he read her assessment. “Excellent work, Lieutenant. My early estimates came to the same general conclusion.”

Aldridge’s mouth was slightly agape at his statement.
Early assessment?
she thought to herself,
I
hate it when he does that.
She quickly formed a smile. “Thank you, sir. We’ll get right on it.”

Hood returned the smile and handed the data pad back to Aldridge. Then he yawned and stretched his arms over his head. “Let me know your results when you have completed the scans. I’m going to catch a cat nap before the next jump. If you should need anything, I’ll be in my quarters.”

As Hood left the Command Deck, Aldridge hustled off toward the Sensor station. Sleep was the last thing on her mind. There would be plenty of time for her to rest in medical—under the watchful eye of Dr. Patton—once the scans were done and the
Armstrong
was safely one step closer to Cygni.

* * *

Maya left the elevator lift and entered the corridor, which led toward Security Station Six. It had been over two hours since her last contact with Hamels, and she wanted a fresh update for the captain before the ship jumped again.

She’d tried Hamels on comms but wasn’t able to reach him, and the last location the computer had logged for him was the mess hall. “Brain food,” she surmised. When she had arrived at the mess hall, it was practically deserted. The staff had not remembered seeing Hamels enter the dining area or chow line, since they started their shifts at their stations nearly four hours ago.

On the offhand chance she had missed him, she stopped by his quarters, but his bed and that of his roommate, Warrant Officer Tom Jenkins, were both still made, and there were no signs that they had been in their quarters for several hours. Even the logs for the door to their quarters confirmed the last access was Jenkins almost three hours ago, just in time for his scheduled shift. Where was he?

The security station was at the end of the hallway and as she approached, Maya’s nose detected a strong almost acrid smell coming from the storage closet across the hall from the station door. If a chemical leak had occurred and leaked into the ventilation system, it could cause serious problems. As she opened the door to the small two meter squared room, the chemical smell was almost overpowering.

The room contained several small shelves for toiletries, cleaning supplies, and two trash bins. Maya scanned the room for the source of the smell and located a small concentrated cleaning supply bottle lying on its side in a small pool of clear liquid, the bottle’s cap was nowhere to be seen.

Maya bent down and set the bottle upright and looked for a rag to soak up the liquid when she noticed a bundle of trash bags behind the two trash bins. Trailing from the bags was a small line of the same cleaning solution.

She moved the two trash containers to the side and approached the pile of bags cautiously. She lifted the first bag off the pile nearest the liquid and examined it. The bottom of the bag was stained with blood. Maya removed two more bags and saw what she feared, a body dressed in a security uniform.

Kneeling down closer to the body, she recognized him immediately. It was Tom Jenkins. He lay face down under the bags. There were two small holes in the middle of his back, surrounded with blood. Maya easily deduced that the bullet entry wounds were indicative of a smaller caliber weapon, most likely an assault pistol or security sidearm.

Maya opened a comm channel for a security team to assist her and began to secure the area, her eyes watering now from the effects of the chemical spill in the room. After removing the last of the trash bags from over the body, she noticed Jenkins’ comm wristband was missing. Maya bent down and checked his uniform. His ID was missing too. “Hamels!” she blurted out. She drew her sidearm and bolted out the door for the Security station.

* * *

The hyper beacon slowed to a halt as the
Armstrong’s
crew concluded their final scans of the jump area and asteroid belt, close to the next leg of her journey to Cygni. As the scanner array powered down, the beacon entered its standard power save mode and awaited new commands or signals to relay. The beacon carried a small fusion power cell, but its supply was not limitless. The small spacecraft angled its twin solar arrays toward the distant Cygni star as it enabled its backup system to charge solar batteries in case of a main power failure.

The lights on the beacon slowly began to fade out when a shadow steadily engulfed the small satellite. As the vessel neared the beacon, two metal reticular arms gently latched onto it. Securely in the grasp of the large claws from the ship, the satellite’s passive location system detected a shift in position as it and the unknown vessel moved closer to the asteroid belt.

The satellite would normally have sent updated burst messages to its partner beacons of the location change, but the initiation protocol had been suspended when the EDF disabled the remote signal from the Cygni colony ship. The satellite continued to monitor the changes and would send an updated burst to the other beacons once a new command signal was received.

* * *

The pilots of Rook and Delta squadron filed out of the port side pilot briefing room toward the docking bay. Many members of both squadrons had expressed their concern for the situation surrounding Lieutenant Krieg and his status as Rook squadron commander, but Ensign Thielson spoke to members of both squadrons and assured everyone the situation would be sorted, and Lieutenant Krieg would be cleared of any wrong doing. Most of the pilots understood that rumors were not to be taken as gospel, and Command would address the issue when there were concrete details to dispense.

Lieutenant Commander Walsh had informed Rook squadron that he would be assuming Lieutenant Krieg’s role temporarily, until he returned or a replacement was named. Many of the squadron commanders had heard about Walsh’s flight record and were eager to see him in the cockpit.

The main passageway outside the upper access level of the docking bay was lined with strap harnesses for the pilots that were used for jumps and emergency situations. Each pilot would strap into one of the harnesses and quickly release for entry into the docking bay door after the jump. This provided both a safe area for the pilots during a space-fold event and had proved a very effective strategy for rapid deployment during the war with the Cilik’ti—especially when hot jumps were required.

One of the docking bay technicians was busy inspecting each of the harnesses as pilots began strapping in when Walsh entered the hallway wearing his flight suit and set of glare-reducing goggles. Some pilots, especially older ones, wore the goggles to reduce glare from the sun or reflections off planets or moons, and they were ideal in improving depth perception.

The computer announced the latest jump countdown number at one minute and thirty seconds, and Walsh calmly strode down the hall toward the docking bay access door, his helmet in hand. As he reached the door, a commotion began to occur behind him.

Dressed in his flight suit, Krieg walked into the corridor, and cheers from his squadron mates erupted. Many of the ones already strapped in fought to open their harnesses and mob their leader. Krieg was bombarded with questions about what happened, but he raised his hands to calm them down. “I know there is a lot to explain, but it’s going to have to wait. We have a mission to perform, and we need to focus on that first.”

The rest of the pilots agreed, and after several nods and murmurs, they soon dispersed back to their harnesses. All but Thielson, who walked up to Krieg and punched him hard in the shoulder. “Nice to see you up and walking around, ya big oaf!”

Krieg rubbed his shoulder with his right hand and smiled at the shorter ensign. “Nice to know you cared, Reaper. I heard you were checking up on me in medical.”

Thielson rolled her eyes. “Just making sure you didn’t kick before I got the money for besting you in that sim last week.”

“It was a draw, Reaper,” Krieg responded. “Remember?” The computer announced the countdown to jump had reached the one minute mark, and Krieg began to walk down the hall toward Walsh, who was now entering the code to the external airlock of the docking bay. “Sorry, Reaper, the discussion over the sim will have to wait. I have to inform Commander Walsh of my readiness status before we jump.”

One of the Rook squadron pilots who recently strapped in by the airlock door watched Walsh enter the code into the airlock. Slightly concerned he asked, “Uh, Commander, it’s against regulations to open the airlock before jump.”

Walsh seemed to ignore the pilot as he completed the code entry and pulled the handle, when the pressurization indicator flashed that it was safe to enter. Walsh struggled briefly with the door. His hand was shaking, and the pilots closest to him could see his white knuckled grip on the handle as he continued to open the door. The docking bay tech also took notice of the door opening and cut in front of Krieg as he jogged toward the door.

“Commander Walsh, Lieutenant Krieg reporting for duty, sir. I am to inform you that you are relieved of Rook Squadron command,” Krieg said with a confident grin.