The medical department was once again in shambles. Although not as bad as before, the sense of order that Doctor Chen and her staff of mostly volunteers had establish was strained to the point of breaking. To accommodate the influx of additional casualties resulting from the battle in the hangar bay, the young doctor had been forced to move most of her still recuperating patients into nearby quarters that had been converted into makeshift hospital rooms.
The battle was nearly three hours past by now, and though the situation appeared to be under control, the main treatment area was again in a state of disrepair. The initial chaos that had immediately followed the battle was under control, and Doctor Chen had done what she could for the wounded. Now, as before, it was mostly a waiting game to see how many of them would survive.
As Nathan walked through the treatment area, the first thing that struck him was that most of the wounded were not his crew. They were the workers that had been hired to harvest the rings to maintain their cover. In fact, of the eight patients currently being treated, six of them were workers from Haven. Nathan was suddenly struck with a sense of guilt. These people had been wounded-many of them had died-because of his decision to bring the Aurora to Haven. True, he had been following the advice of Tobin and Jalea. But in the end, it was all his responsibility, and he had to wonder: was it worth it? Furthermore, did he even have the right to make that decision? These were not members of his crew, after all. These were civilians, and not even of his own world.
He braced himself as he made his way through the treatment area, expecting to be overcome with nausea just as before, but it didn’t come. That’s when he realized that, while he felt guilty for what had happened to them, he didn’t feel responsible for their deaths. He hadn’t known that he was putting them into harm’s way. Tobin knew; it was he who was responsible for the fate that befell them. Suddenly, Nathan was no longer troubled by Jalea’s execution of the skinny little shit-as Jessica had referred to him.
He reached the utility room on the far side of the treatment area, half expecting to find Doctor Chen sitting in the corner nibbling on dried fruit and nuts as usual. But the room was empty-a mess, but empty.
“Captain?” A woman’s voice came from behind. Nathan turned to see a familiar face. She was a good four or five years younger than him, with short brown hair and hazel eyes. She looked tired, but determined. But as the young woman approached, he couldn’t quite remember where he knew her from. She wasn’t a member of his crew-or at least she wasn’t wearing a uniform. Then he noticed the partially healed scar on her forehead, and he remembered. He had helped her in the corridor after the battle with the first Ta’Akar ship on his way to see Captain Roberts right before he died. She had been injured herself, the gash on her forehead, and had been trying to help a badly injured man more than twice her size, despite her weakened state. And he had seen her later, running around the treatment area with a data pad, taking treatment notes for Doctor Chen.
“Yes?” Nathan answered as the woman approached.
“You probably don’t remember me,” she started.
“The corridor,” he said. “You were helping an injured man to medical. You called for help. Yes, I remember.”
“That’s right,” she said, surprised that he remembered her. “My name’s Cassandra. Cassandra Evans,” she told him, holding out her hand.
“Nathan Scott,” he said as he shook her hand. “You’re on the jump drive project, right?”
“The what?”
“Oh, sorry. The superluminal transition something.”
“Yeah, I guess jump drive is easier to say.”
“What are you doing in medical?”
“I’ve been helping out Doctor Chen. My job on the project was to study how the jump drive might affect human physiology. But with all that’s happened, it made more sense for me to help out here for now.”
“That’s good of you. I’m sure Doctor Chen appreciates it.” Nathan looked around for the doctor. “Where is the doctor?”
“She’s in surgery. She’ll probably be in there for quite some time. She said to yell at you for ‘bringing a bunch of unscreened foreign humans on board without prescreening them for pathogens.’” Cassandra’s face pulled into a slight frown. “I don’t have to yell at you, do I?”
“I’ll consider myself properly scolded.”
Relief washed across her face. “She also said to tell you that everyone needs to undergo a full physical as soon as possible. That means anyone who went down to the surface and anyone new to the ship.”
“I’ll see to it, but it may be awhile,” he explained. “Things are still a little hectic right now.”
“Of course, I understand. I’ll let her know when she gets out of surgery.”
“Great, then I guess I’ll leave you to your work then,” he said as he prepared to leave. “It was nice meeting you, Cassandra.”
“You too, sir.” Nathan started to head back toward the entrance, when she called to him. “Captain?” Nathan turned back to her to see what she wanted. “I just wanted to say thanks.”
Nathan looked a bit puzzled. “For what?”
“Doctor Sorenson told us how you stepped up and took over when Captain Roberts and Commander Montero were killed. She says you probably saved us more than once already.” Cassandra looked a little embarrassed by her statement. “So, I just thought someone should thank you; that’s all.”
Nathan was surprised, and at a loss for words, which was something that didn’t happen to him very often. “You’re quite welcome, Cassandra.” Nathan looked at her for a moment. “And thank you for saying so.”
The young woman suddenly felt awkward. “I’d better get back to work now,” she said, taking a few steps backward before turning and disappearing into the utility room.
Nathan turned and continued out the door into the corridor, thinking Sometimes this ‘captain’ gig isn’t too bad.
The musky, overpowering aroma of the molo struck Nathan long before he reached the hatch to the mess hall. If there was one thing he had learned from his dinner at Tug’s farmhouse, it was that molo smelled far worse during cooking than it did when you ate it. As he approached the hatch, he made a mental note to himself to make sure that all future molo cooking was done with the galley doors closed.
Nathan was unprepared for what he saw when he stepped through the mess hall hatch. The entire room, which was large enough to sit at least two hundred at once, was covered with sheets of raw molo. There were stacks of it, each piece about a meter square and ten centimeters thick. Tug was leading the workers from the harvesting crew, along with two of the Aurora’s crew, as they removed the outer skin from each piece. After skinning it, they would quarter it and then move it into the galley for cleaning.
Across the serving counter, Nathan could see several large pots with steam pouring out of them as one of the female workers dumped bowls full of diced molo, as well as some sort of fresh herbs into the pots of boiling water. While there was nothing appetizing about the smell, Nathan knew from experience that when prepared properly, molo was a tasty and nutritious meal. He was just thankful that they had someone on board who knew how to cook it.
Nathan made his way over to one of his crew, a young technician who was showing one of the workers from Haven how to use the comm-set he was being assigned. “How’s it going?”
“This is the last one, sir,” the technician answered as he indicated to the worker that he was free to go. “I made a list of all their names, skill sets, and their comm-set ID’s, just like Commander Taylor asked.”
“Very good. Do me a favor, and make sure they all know that our doctor will be calling them in for physicals at some point over the next few days-if they’re here that long.”
“Yes, sir,” the technician answered, looking somewhat dejected.
Nathan was sure that the smell of the molo was getting to the young man. “Don’t worry, it tastes a lot better than it smells.”
“It would have to, sir.”
Nathan made his way across the room to where Tug was working. On one of the tables he passed there were several boxes full of some type of prepackaged foods, labeled in a language he didn’t understand. “What’s all that?” he asked Tug as he approached, pointing back toward the boxes.
“They were on the shuttles,” Tug explained. “It was meant to feed the workers for at least a few days. We thought it might be useful. We might be able to combine some of it with the molo to stretch it a bit further.”
Nathan looked around at the stacks of molo. “It looks like you’ve already prepped most of it. That was pretty fast.”
“Actually, about half of the original shipment was ruined during the battle in the hangar bay. I guess a few of your men took cover behind one of the stacks, and it got pretty cooked by energy weapons fire.”
Nathan grimaced. “So how long will what we have last us?”
“Including the extra people you took on board today, maybe two weeks. But I understand you have some emergency rations that you pulled from the escape pods?”
“Yeah, but don’t get your hopes up,” Nathan told him, remembering the noodle and mystery meat that he and Vladimir had been forced to eat just before their trip to Haven. “Most of that stuff is barely edible.” Nathan looked around the room. “Where are the fly boys?”
“Your new shuttle crew? They’re down in the hangar bay, going over the shuttles to check for damage. I don’t think they were comfortable rubbing elbows with the workers.”
“Yeah, I can understand that,” Nathan said. “I think I’ll go check on them,” he added as he turned to walk away. “We’re going to have another strategy meeting in about an hour or so,” he called back to him.
“I’ll be there, Captain.”
As he headed out the door, one of the female workers stopped him and offered a sample of a type of prepared molo that he had not seen before. They were small, round balls, brownish in color, and covered with a finely ground cracker or cookie of some sort.
“Would you like to try some, Captain?” the woman asked, holding out the plate in offering.
“Sure.” Nathan picked up one of the small brown balls and popped it into his mouth. It was still warm, having recently come out of the oven. The outside was firm, almost crispy, with a slightly sweet taste. As he bit down, the outer crust broke open and the silky, creamy center spilled into his mouth. “Oh, wow! That’s amazing,” Nathan exclaimed. The woman beamed at his praise. “This is made with molo?” he asked as he grabbed a few more to take with him.
“Indeed it is,” she assured him, pleased that he enjoyed them.
“Thank you. Be sure to give one to that guy over there,” Nathan told her, pointing to the technician who was dying to get away from the putrid smell emanating from the galley. Nathan popped another one into his mouth as he left the mess hall, his eyes rolling at the wonderful taste in his mouth.
“What were you planning on doing,” Josh asked, “stay on Haven forever? Maybe marry some dirt farmer’s daughter and pop out a bunch of dirt babies?” Josh had to laugh, at least to himself. Loki had always been so starry-eyed every time an even moderately attractive woman smiled at him. He could easily see his friend surrounded by a wife and a bunch of grimy, screaming little kids.
“Don’t be such a smart-ass, Josh,” Loki snapped, as he continued entering commands into the shuttle’s diagnostics system. “You know I have no intention of staying on Haven for any longer than I have to. I’m just not so sure that this ship is the best way off Haven. I mean, have you taken a close look at her? Sure, she’s new and all, but the tech on her seems kind of outdated, even by Haven standards.”
“Are you kidding me? I’ve never heard of anyone with a jump drive, or anything remotely like it. Besides, it’s not so much the ship that interests me as where it’s from.”
Loki shook his head. “You’ve always been the dreamer.”
“Come on,” Josh exclaimed. “You can’t tell me you’re not at least a little bit curious. I mean, these people came from Earth. That’s where we’re all supposed to be from. Surely you find that at least a little bit exciting.”
“Just maybe next time you could ask before you volunteer us for something.”
“What’s the matter? Don’t you trust me?”
“No, I don’t.” The diagnostics computer made an angry sounding beep at him, causing Loki to toss his data pad on the console beside him in frustration. “Damn, I can’t even get the diagnostics system to work properly.”
“Yeah, for low-tech projectile weapons, they sure do a lot of damage, don’t they? Half the console is full of holes up here.” Josh turned around from his seat at the front of the shuttle to Loki. “I say we scrap her. The electronics and flight controls are just too shot up to be repaired, especially since we don’t really have any spare parts.”
“But the engines and the power plant are fine,” Loki argued, “as are most of the actual flight systems.”
“Then we can use them for spare parts for the other shuttle, if needed. But his one’s not worth the effort.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Loki confessed, running his hands over his face and through his hair. It had been a long two days of nonstop work with nothing more than intermittent meal breaks. And the exhaustion was really starting to get to him.
“Right about what?” Nathan asked as he walked up the damaged shuttle’s aft boarding ramp.
“That this crate should be scrapped for parts,” Josh announced.
“Really? It didn’t look too bad from the outside.”
“That’s because all the damage is in here,” Loki added.
“Yeah, your guys shot the inside of her up pretty good. If it wasn’t for their armor, I doubt any of those troops would’ve made it out alive.”
“So it can’t be fixed?”
“Maybe, if we were back on Haven and could pick up some parts. But aside from that rock, I doubt you’ll find parts for this old bucket elsewhere.”
Nathan felt a little embarrassed, as ‘this old bucket’ had a lot of systems that looked like they were far more advanced than anything the Aurora had on board. “So I take it she’s not ‘state-of-the-art’ around these parts?”
“Nothing on Haven is state-of-the-art, Captain,” Loki explained.
“Yeah,” Josh added with a grin. “Haven is pretty much where old spaceships go to die.”
“I don’t know,” Nathan disagreed. “Your harvester seemed to perform quite well.”
“That’s because Marcus took care of her. He’s really a much better mechanic than he lets on.”
Nathan nodded, acknowledging Josh’s claims. “How about the other shuttle?”
“Oh she’s fine,” Loki promised. “She was pretty much buttoned up when the fight broke out. So other than a few nicks and scorch marks to her hull, she’s ready to go.”
“Well, at least there’s that. Speaking of Marcus, where is he? I thought he’d be here with you.”
“He’s pulling the computer core and a few other usable odds and ends outta the harvester. He says the reactor is not looking good. He’s afraid it’ll get unstable and he wants to jettison the whole mess and be rid of her.”
“Too bad,” Nathan said. “I’m sure my chief engineer would like to get a look at some of its systems. You sure there’s no way to make it safe to store? I mean, we’ve got lots of room.”
“Naw, I suspect Marcus is right. Last thing you want is a core breach in the middle of your hangar bay,” Loki told him.
“I suppose you’re right,” Nathan said. “And Tug’s fighter? How’s it?”
“You’d have to ask Tug about that,” Loki told him. “I expect he wouldn’t want anyone coming near it. Least I wouldn’t if it were mine.”
“What do you think of her?” Nathan asked. He had no knowledge of local spacecraft, and thus had no idea how well Tug’s fighter would match up against others in the area.
“She’s an older model, to be sure. But she’s a beauty, that one,” Josh said.
“Yeah, they don’t make them like that anymore,” Loki agreed.
“How do you mean?”
Josh may have been the natural-born pilot, but Loki knew the ins and outs of spacecraft, having studied them since he first learned to read. No one knew more about spacecraft than Loki. “The newer ones are smaller and more maneuverable, but they don’t have the range, the speed, or the punch. They’re harder to hit, for sure, but you usually only need a single hit to kill them. And the newer ones don’t have FTL either. These were the last ones built for deep space patrol and intercept. The newer ones all have to operate from carrier ships.”
“Captain,” Josh began, “I was meaning to ask you something. Why is it you’ve got so much room in this bay but no ships? It was obviously built for flight ops, but the only things in here besides our shuttles are a bunch of crates and junk.”
Nathan took a seat on the bench running along the starboard side of the shuttle. “Well, that’s kind of a long story. But the short version is we were just out on a test cruise, and things went wrong. Way wrong, in fact. We didn’t have any of our flight wing on board at the time, as we were just supposed to be testing the jump drive. In fact, this ship isn’t even completely finished yet. That’s what all the crates are-more equipment that has yet to be installed.”
“A thousand light year test cruise?” Josh wondered aloud. “If that’s your idea of a test cruise, where the hell did you plan on going on a real cruise, another galaxy?”
“Actually, we weren’t planning on going much more than about thirty or forty light years.”
“Well I’d say you over shot your mark just a wee bit there, Captain,” Josh said.
“Yeah, just a bit,” Nathan agreed with a smile. Nathan knew where the conversation was headed. They had to be curious about the ship, and the Earth in general, just as Tug had been the night before. But Nathan still had a lot to do before he could call it a day, and that was a conversation he didn’t have time to get into right now. “Listen, I’ve got another guest I need to talk to. You guys get checked in to your quarters and get some chow and a good night’s rest. I have a feeling you’ll be doing some more flying soon enough.”
Jalea stared through the one-way window at the Ta’Akar assault trooper as he sat in a metal chair, at a metal table, in the small, plain interrogation room. He had been stripped of his body armor and was dressed only in a plain jumpsuit from the Aurora’s laundry. He wore a pair of thick, wide, metal bracelets that were locked around his wrists, but was free to move about the small room as he desired.
Jalea’s gaze contained a seething hatred for the man before her, for all he stood for, and for the many atrocities he had probably committed and still had yet to commit-all no doubt in the name of Caius the Great, the leader of the Ta’Akar. Jalea despised that name almost as much as the man himself, for he was the one she held responsible for the deaths of her mother, her father, and her husband. He may not have done the deeds himself, but his legions had, and in his name-which as far as she was concerned made him just as responsible for their deaths as if he had pulled the trigger himself.
She continued to stare, her breath coming slow and regular, her chest rhythmically rising and falling. Her eyes only blinked once per minute, so intense was her gaze. The subject of her relentless attention was no more than a boy in her eyes, barely the age of adulthood. But he bore the ceremonial markings of a Ta’Akar warrior, complete with the serpent’s tail that encircled his neck before disappearing down his back. He was trained, this one. Not just another indentured grunt, forced to serve or die. Somewhere along the line, this man had chosen to swear a blood oath to his leader. This one did not fight only as a means to survive. Men with such simple motivations were easy to kill, as they were more often than not unwilling to fully commit to the battle. Such men fought for glory, for their own as much as their leaders, which meant that they were not afraid to die in battle. In fact, they welcomed it.
Her rage was broken by the arrival of others, as Nathan and Jessica entered the observation room.
“Jalea, thank you for meeting us,” Nathan said. “I hope you don’t mind, but I thought we might need a translator.”
“Of course,” she said, her chin dipping slightly. “However, this one is Ybaran. And although young, he is old enough to have learned Angla in his youth.”
“Ybaran?” Jessica asked.
“A small system just outside of the Pentaurus cluster. It was conquered just recently by the Ta’Akar-maybe ten years ago. Before then, all children were taught Angla, just as I was. It was only after the Ta’Akar came and enforced the Doctrine of Origins that the use of Angla was discontinued on Ybara.”
“Then he can understand us?” Jessica asked.
“Most likely, yes, although he will not admit to such. To do so would be admitting doubt in his own faith.”
“I’m not following,” Nathan admitted.
“Ybarans, like those of any other Ta’Akar controlled world, are required to serve in the legions. The best and most devoted of them join the Ghatazhak-a specially trained group of elite warriors. They have been brain washed into believing that Caius is a God, and that all humanity comes from Takara, not Earth. They are fiercely loyal to Caius. Admitting that he understands Angla would be like denouncing his belief in the Doctrine of Origins, which would disqualify him from service in the Ghatazhak, bringing him great dishonor.”
“How do you think we should handle this?”
“He will not respond to questions. He might give you some simple answers meant to placate you and to feed his feeling of superiority. But he will offer no information of substance. To obtain such information will require more direct persuasion.”
Nathan had a pretty good idea of what she meant by that. And he wasn’t sure he was ready to go to that extent just yet. After all, being from Earth, they really had no quarrel with the Ta’Akar. Whatever skirmishes they had been involved in thus far could all be attributed to a galactic misunderstanding, stemming from being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
“Let’s just start with conversation, shall we?” Nathan turned to Jessica and nodded. Jessica moved to the door and pressed the intercom button.
“Hands on the table!” she ordered through the wall-mounted intercom. The prisoner looked up, indicating that he heard her words, but made no movement indicating compliance.
“I said, hands on the table!”
Jalea leaned over to the intercom and shouted something into the intercom in her language-presumably the same thing that Jessica had just said. Reluctantly, the prisoner put both of his hands on the table in front of him.
Jessica turned a small dial on the control panel and flipped a switch. The prisoner felt his hands suddenly being held tightly against the table, as powerful magnets built into the tabletop secured his metal-clad wrists against its now magnetized service, thus rendering his hands immobile.
“All clear, Captain,” Jessica assured him.
Nathan unlocked the door and entered the room with Jalea and Jessica close behind, closing the door as she entered.
The prisoner’s eyes narrowed with hatred at the sight of Jalea. “Karuzari,” he seethed, as if describing something quite vile. A string of unintelligible words followed, to which Jalea responded in kind, although far more calmly.
“What did he say?” Nathan asked.
“He described a quite distasteful sexual act he was going to perform on me before killing me.”
“What did you say?”
“I told him he would require a bigger weapon.”
Nathan smiled. Again, it didn’t seem to matter where you were in the galaxy; people were people just the same. “Feel free to translate at will.”
“Why did you attack this ship?” Nathan began. Jalea immediately translated his question. The prisoner answered without hesitation.
“The Ta’Akar kill the Karuzari. You are with them, so we kill you,” Jalea translated, offering nowhere near the tone and inflection that had been used by the prisoner.
“Guilt by association,” Nathan muttered.
The prisoner continued his rant, each sentence becoming more enraged than the previous one.
“Because of your actions, you are doomed. You cannot help them,” Jalea continued to translate. “Soon the Karuzari scum will be exterminated, as will all who dare to help them.”
“I wouldn’t count on that just yet,” Jessica spouted off, unable to control herself.
Nathan, standing beside Jalea with his arms crossed, glanced at Jessica, one eyebrow shooting up in disapproval as he held up one hand, motioning her to control herself. “Easy, killer.” Nathan turned his gaze back to Jalea. “What if we told him where we’re from?” he suggested as he turned to his left and took a few casual steps forward, as if deep in contemplation. The steps took him just behind the prisoner’s periphery, where he could no longer see Nathan without taking his eyes off Jalea. Nathan turned slowly back to face Jalea. “What if we went ahead and admitted we’re from Earth?”
The prisoner’s eyes darted to his right, to look briefly at Nathan, then back again at Jalea to watch her response. The prisoner’s eyes had gotten a bit wider. Just as I suspected, Nathan thought. You’ve heard of Earth as well.
“But Captain,” Jessica protested, “You-”
Nathan held one hand up again, gesturing for Jessica to stop talking. He locked eyes with Jalea, winked, and said, “What harm could it do?”
“Nathan-” Jalea began to protest, purposefully using his first name. The prisoner’s eyes became even wider.
“Go ahead,” Nathan urged
Jessica had been watching Nathan’s eyes during the exchange, and witnessed the wink. She didn’t know what he was up to, but it was obvious that he had a plan. She only wished he had let her in on it before hand.
Jalea sighed. “As you wish, sir.” Jalea turned to the prisoner, and began speaking in low, calm, even melodic tones. It was as if she were reciting a passage from a book, a poem, or even a psalm. She circled the prisoner, from his right side, around behind him, and to his left, talking softly as she did so. The prisoner appeared disconcerted, growing ever more so with each lyrical phrase that rolled off Jalea’s tongue.
Despite his inability to understand the Ta’Akar language, Nathan had a feeling that what Jalea was saying to the prisoner was familiar-to both her and the prisoner-as his eyes continued to widen with a mixture of doubt and fear. More than once, Nathan heard reference to ‘Earth’, and each time it seemed to make the prisoner slightly more uncomfortable. Finally, her utterances came to an end with a slight pause, and then the word ‘Na-Tan’.
The prisoner objected, calmly at first, but soon his objections grew more pronounced. Jalea continued to preach to him, repeating the same phrases over and over. As his objections grew louder, so did Jalea’s. Within moments, they were shouting at one another.
Suddenly, Jalea’s preaching’s broke into Angla, still at full volume. “The Legend of Origins is no longer a legend! And soon all the people of Ta’Akar shall know the truth! That your king is a liar! That we are all from Earth!”
“No!” the prisoner protested yet again. Only this time it was also in Angla, and with tears streaming down his cheeks.
“This ship is the ship of legend! These people are the warriors of God! And this man is Na-Tan!”
“No!” the prisoner cried out, his words rising to the level of shouts, spit flying from his lips as he screamed. “It is not true! Caius is a God!”
Jalea’s voice raised with the prisoner’s, matching not only his volume but also his level of emotion. “Caius is only a fool pretending to be a God!”
“No! No! No!” the prisoner repeated at the top of his lungs. “Soon our new reactors will be available and our ships will be invincible! There will be no stopping the mighty Ta’Akar legions as we spread across the galaxy! Caius the Great shall rule supreme over all the stars in the sky!”
Suddenly, the soldier’s voice changed, his tone and volume dropping. His conviction had returned. He had convinced himself once again that his beliefs were all that mattered and that his cause was just. His voice became more sinister, more lascivious, as his eyes wandered up and down first Jalea’s and then Jessica’s bodies. His words became guttural, his tongue lashing out salaciously between them, over and over again, until finally he stood abruptly, screaming out another vile string of words at full volume.
Jalea lunged at him, her right fist driving hard into his throat, knocking him backwards. The force of the blow drove him back so hard, his magnetically locked wrist restraints pulled the metal table they were attached to back and on top of him. Jalea nimbly dodged the falling table, knocking Nathan out of her way as she circled around the fallen table and came down with another blow to the prisoner’s face. Surprisingly, despite repeated full-force blows to his face, the crazed man continued to spew lewd remarks at her at the top of his lungs, sprays of his own blood added to the spittle that flew from his mouth as he screamed. Jalea continued to strike him again and again, screaming out in rage with each blow.
Jessica jumped across the fallen table and grabbed Jalea by her hair, yanking her backwards and away from the prisoner. “Get her outta here!” she yelled at Nathan, who was grabbing at Jalea from behind to keep her from getting back on her feet to attack again.
The prisoner continued to scream, his curses now aimed at Jessica. She turned and looked down at him. “Fuck you,” she said as she planted her boot in his face, knocking him out cold. She turned and watched as Nathan dragged the now crying and screaming Jalea out the door. Satisfied that the situation was under control, she squatted down next to the unconscious prisoner’s head and checked his neck for a pulse. “Yeah, you’re still alive.” She reached up and tapped her comm-set earpiece once to activate it. “Medical Emergency in the brig. Man down.”
“What the fuck was that all about!” Jessica asked as she stepped into the observation room.
“I don’t know!” Nathan admitted. He too was stunned by what had happened. “I thought that if he spoke Angla, we could trick him-”
“And who the hell is Na-Tan!” Jessica interrupted. She looked at Jalea, who was pacing back and forth across the opposite end of the room, rage still blazing in her eyes. “I mean, Warriors of God?” Jessica asked. “What the fuck?!” Getting nothing more than an angry glance from Jalea, Jessica turned back to Nathan. “I don’t suppose you have any idea what she was doing?”
“I think she was trying to get him to doubt his beliefs,” Nathan tried to explain.
“How? By quoting scripture?”
“It’s what she said earlier, that the guy was Ybaran, that they all learned Angla when they were young. Angla was always taught by some kind of priests of the order.”
“What order?”
“I don’t know, like some kind of religion or something. It’s all based on the belief that they all originally came from Earth, and that the Earth befell a great evil. They believe that someday warriors from Earth will come and free them from their own evil.”
“Oh great!” Jessica exclaimed, throwing up her hands. “So what, now we’re the horsemen of the apocalypse?”
Suddenly, the hatch from the corridor swung open and two crewmen stepped in, followed by Doctor Chen.
“He’s in there,” Jessica said, stepping aside and pointing into the interrogation room.
The three of them rushed past them, Doctor Chen glancing at Nathan as she passed.
“It is all my fault,” Jalea admitted, having finally calmed down enough to speak rationally.
“You’re damned right it is,” Jessica told her.
“I was only trying to-”
“I don’t give a shit what you were trying to do,” Jessica interrupted. She was about to lose her temper as well, and at the moment, if she did so, it would be at Jalea. “You know what; you’d better just go,” she added, pointing to the exit.
Jalea looked confused. She looked to Nathan for support, but received only his incredulous stare.
“Now!” Jessica shouted. “Before I smack you around the same way you did him!”
For a moment, Jalea looked ashamed. But it was only for a moment, as she regained her usual indignant composure and walked calmly out of the room.
“Jess, It’s my fault-”
“Of course it’s your fault,” she said, cutting him off. “But more importantly, it’s your fuckin’ responsibility, Nathan.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t. You don’t play the religion card so casually, or you might just start a holy war! And those kind of things can spin rapidly out of control.”
Nathan stared at the floor for a moment, trying to process all that had happened in the last few minutes. Finally, he spoke. “You’re right, I don’t know. Hell, Jess, I don’t know anything,” he admitted.
“Then next time, leave the interrogations to someone who has actually been trained to interrogate.”
Nathan looked at her.
“Yeah, that’s right. Me.” Jessica shook her head as she tapped in her security code to open the weapons locker, and pulled her side arm out of the locker, placing it into the holster on her gun belt.
“You’re right,” he said again, as he stepped back out of the way. Two crewmen carried the unconscious prisoner on a stretcher, moving past Nathan on their way through the small observation room.
Doctor Chen followed them out, stopping momentarily in front of Nathan. “You know, it’s not like I don’t already have enough patients to care for, sir.”
Before Nathan could say anything, the young doctor departed. Jessica followed them out, also pausing in front of Nathan. “Jalea’s a loose cannon,” she said, her eyes still looking at the exit. She turned her head and added, “You know that.” Nathan’s head nodded ever so slightly in reluctant agreement as Jessica turned her head back toward the door, exited, and followed the doctor and her team down the corridor.
Nathan turned and looked back through the open door into the interrogation room. The table was still on its side, the chair knocked across the room. There was blood splattered on the floor, as well as at least two bloody boot prints, presumably made by Jessica as she walked out of the room.
Nathan let out a long sigh. At that moment, he didn’t think being captain was all it was cracked up to be.
The prisoner was still unconscious and was being carried on a stretcher by two crewmen. A bio-monitoring harness was attached to his torso and fingers and was sending a constant stream of telemetry to a handheld wireless receiver carried by Doctor Chen, who studied it intermittently.
“What happened to him?” Doctor Chen asked as they continued down the corridor.
“He became violent,” Jessica answered calmly. She knew it was a lie, but the less everyone knew about what really happened in the brig, the better off they would all be. Jalea had crossed a line. It wasn’t one that Jessica herself wouldn’t have crossed, if necessary. But it wasn’t Jalea’s place to do so, nor was it Nathan’s, as far as she was concerned. The man was barely able to pull off being captain. Interrogation was definitely something best left to those properly trained. Maybe next time, he’ll be more cooperative, she thought.
“I see,” Doctor Chen answered, noticing the mag-cuffs still on the prisoner’s wrists. “Wasn’t he restrained?”
“Apparently not as well as we thought.”
“I’m afraid I need more details if I’m going to know what kind of injuries to look for-”
“It’d be best if you left it alone, Doc,” Jessica warned, cutting her off.
“Can you at least tell me where and with what he was struck?”
Jessica rolled her eyes and sighed. “Several blows to the face, and at least one to the neck. In the process he fell backwards and pulled the metal table down on top of him, onto his chest, I think.” Jessica knew that she was telling her a bit too much, but she needed this guy to survive so that she could interrogate him properly. She knew the head game that Jalea and the captain had been trying to play on him. It had even appeared to be working to some extent. And if used correctly, she might be able to parlay it into some useful intel.
“Is that all?” the doctor prodded. “His nose is badly broken.”
“There may have been a boot to the face,” Jessica admitted sheepishly. She was starting to think she might have gone a little too far with that one, and she did feel just a bit guilty. “Is he going to survive?”
“His vitals are stable for now. I’m mostly worried about possible brain and chest trauma,” she explained as they entered the medical section.
“Jess!” Enrique called out from down the corridor. He and another crewman, both carrying side arms and automatic close-quarters weapons came trotting down the corridor. “What’s going on?”
“Had to rough-up a prisoner,” she joked, hiding the guilt that had hit her a moment earlier. “Go and keep an eye on him,” she instructed the crewman.
“Yes, sir,” the crewman answered as he followed the doctor into the treatment area.
“Did you kick his ass?” Enrique said, a grin coming across his face. He had been in a firefight with this guy and his cohorts a few hours ago. Seeing the sole surviving prisoner injured and suffering didn’t bother him one bit.
“It wasn’t me. Except for the boot to his nose in the end.” Enrique gave her a quizzical look. “Jalea snapped and started pounding on him.”
“Really?” Enrique was more than a bit surprised.
“Yeah. She was trying to mess with his head. I guess she got to him, cuz next thing I knew he was screaming something ugly at her and she flat-knuckled him to the throat and then took him down and started pounding away on his face.”
“Damn!”
“Scary part is, it didn’t even phase the guy. He just kept screaming at her. It was my boot that finally shut him up.”
“Screw him,” Enrique declared. “You should’ve kicked him harder.”
Jessica’s mind was already several steps ahead. “You get the comm-set tracking running yet?”
“They’re setting it up now. It’ll be ready in a few hours. It’ll notify whoever has the duty the moment one of our guests goes someplace they don’t belong.”
“Good. These people are making me nervous.” Jessica tapped her comm-set earpiece to activate the device. “Nash to Yosef.”
“Yosef, go ahead.”
“Do me a favor and use Jalea’s comm-set signal to figure out where she is at the moment.”
“Stand by.”
Jessica notices the metal chains and cuffs in Enrique’s hand. “Make sure that guy is well restrained. And don’t let the doc tell you otherwise.”
“You got it.”
“And I want someone watching him at all times until his ass is back in the brig.”
“Jessica?” Ensign Yosef’s voice called over Jessica’s comm-set.
“Go ahead.”
“Jalea is in her quarters.”
“Copy that. Thanks.” Jessica tapped her comm-set again to turn it off and started down the corridor.
“Where you going?” Enrique asked.
“I’m gonna have a heart-to-heart with the rebel princess,” she told him as she walked away.
Jessica strode confidently down the corridor towards Jalea’s quarters. Her cabin was not far away, since everything forward of the primary bulkheads was still closed off due to the hull breach that had occurred when they had rammed the Ta’Akar ship a week ago. That had given Jessica little time to think about what she was going to say to Jalea when she confronted her.
Arriving at her door, Jessica pressed the buzzer along the side of the doorway. A moment later, Jessica heard the sound of the metal latch releasing right before the door slid open to reveal Jalea. Her face still appeared angry, and the prisoner’s blood splatter still decorated both her top and her right hand.
“We need to talk,” Jessica ordered as she stepped into the cabin, forcing Jalea to step aside.
Jalea turned to keep herself facing Jessica, not wanting to turn her back to her. “I don’t believe we have anything to talk about.”
“Oh, I beg to differ,” Jessica said, a slight chuckle following her words. Jessica stepped deeper into the cabin. It was a small, standard cabin meant to accommodate two members of the crew. Jessica herself had lived in one until only a few days ago, when she moved into a larger single occupancy cabin on the command deck. She had done so not because she wanted to, but because her new duties required her to be as close to the command section as possible, even when she was off duty.
“Very well,” Jalea said, realizing that Jessica was not offering her a choice. “What would you like to talk about?”
Jessica smiled at Jalea’s attitude and at how Jalea not only kept herself between Jessica and the exit, but had also chosen not to close the door. This lady was well trained. And the more dealings Jessica had with her, the more she was sure of it. The question was, trained by who? “What the fuck happened back there?”
“Nothing,” Jalea lied. “I simply lost control. I apologize.”
Jessica could tell in an instant that the apology was fake and was only meant to hasten an end to the confrontation. “That’s crap, and you know it. You’ve been cool as a cucumber since the moment you stepped on board. Hell, you didn’t even shed a tear when you brothers in arms, one by one, blew themselves up to save us. And all of a sudden I’m supposed to believe that you just lost it?” she said, throwing up her arms. Jessica folded her arms across her chest as she recalled the events that had transpired in the brig only minutes ago. “You were pushing him, fucking with his mind, weren’t you? You and the captain. Yeah, I saw the little wink he gave you. So what was it? What did you say to him?”
Jalea turned to her left and moved a few steps away from Jessica while still maintaining a clear shot to the exit should she need a quick retreat. “I was trying to prove to him that the Doctrine of Origins was false,” she said with indignation, “that Caius is not a God, and that his cause is not just.”
“And the part about us being from Earth? And about Na-Tan?”
“It is just a variation of the Legend of Origins. One followed by many of the more spiritually inclined. Ybarans are such people, so I expected he would be familiar with the details of this particular variation of the legend.”
“Well I’m not familiar with the details. Perhaps you’d care to enlighten me?” Jessica’s tone demonstrated that it was more of a command than a request.
“If you insist,” Jalea answered reluctantly. “Many of the societies in this part of the galaxy have been oppressed for countless generations. Caius himself has been in power for more than one hundred years. During this time he has also caused much pain and suffering and has oppressed billions. Believing in miracles, believing that salvation from such atrocities and oppression will someday come to be, helps keep hope alive. For many in the Pentaurus cluster, hope is all they have.”
“And what about this Na-Tan?” Jessica prodded.
“One of the versions talks of one that will save them from evil. This one is called Na-Tan. He is said to come from a distant star called Sol, from the birthplace of humanity. Earth.”
“Na-Tan,” Jessica mumbled as everything fell into place. “You were trying to convince that poor, brain-washed schmuck that Nathan was Na-Tan, come to save the people from the evil Caius.” Jessica shook her head. “And it almost worked, too. Didn’t it?”
“Almost,” Jalea admitted.
“But it didn’t. And you know why it didn’t? Because it was stupid. You don’t win somebody over by telling them everything they believe is wrong. All that does is solidify their beliefs and make them hate you all the more. And when done to groups, it galvanizes them.”
Jalea’s demeanor changed, softening somewhat, as her tone became less defensive and her posture more open and inviting. Jessica may not have been born with Nathan’s natural ability to read body language, but she had been taught the skill in spec-ops training.
“My intent was only to make him question his beliefs,” Jalea explained apologetically, “not to convince him to side with us. Making one question their beliefs puts a crack in one’s armor. Over time, that crack widens and the armor weakens.”
Jessica didn’t much feel like listening to Jalea preach. And she had absolutely no patience to stand by while she tried to play her in the same way that she tried to play the captain. “Yeah. I don’t really give a shit about all that. You see, your methods of persuasion don’t work on me the way they might work on Nathan. So save it, princess.”
Jalea tried her best to look confused and shocked. “I’m sorry. What is it you’d like me to do, then?”
“What I’d like you to do is to shut the hell up.”
“Excuse me?” Jalea asked, continuing her charade.
“If someone asks you a question, you answer them. If someone tells you do go somewhere and do something, you go there and do it. Otherwise, you shut up. You don’t make tactical decisions on your own. And you don’t take actions on your own. And if you do otherwise, at best you end up in the brig right alongside our Ghatazhak friend.”
Jalea did not care for Jessica’s threats and immediately changed both her posture and her tone to communicate her dislike back to Jessica. “And at worst?” she asked, as if challenging her.
Jessica’s arms dropped to her sides, her gaze became cold, and her eyes became slits. “I end you.”
“End me?” Jalea asked, feigning ignorance of the term.
“Yeah. End you. You know, put a bullet in your brain? Punch your ticket? Put your lights out? Plant you six feet under? No wait, those are all Earth terms, so you wouldn’t understand them, would you?”
Jalea looked down for a moment. “No, I’m afraid-” When her eyes came back up, she found the business end of Jessica’s sidearm only centimeters from the bridge of her nose, immediately noticing that Jessica had just finished thumbing off the safety. She froze in her tracks, not moving a muscle. Her first instinct would normally be to jerk to one side while smacking the weapon in the opposite direction. But there was a coldness in the eyes of the holder of the weapon that told her caution was the more prudent choice of action.
“Do you understand this?” Jessica asked coldly.
“Yes. Quite clearly, in fact.”
“Good. Cuz the next time I catch you putting this ship or any member of this crew at risk, I will kill you.”
Jalea said nothing in response, only staring over the top of the weapon into Jessica’s eyes. She doubted she could disarm her without injury. And even if she could, she would have to kill her-and that would be difficult to explain.
After what seemed like an eternity, Jessica finally lowered her sidearm and replaced it into her holster in one smooth and quick motion, thumbing the safety back on as she did so. A second later it was back in its holster with the safety strap snapped back over it.
“We’re done here,” Jessica stated as she reached up and lightly double tapped the side of Jalea’s cheek with her open hand. “There’s another briefing in thirty minutes, princess,” she added on her way out. “Don’t be late.”
Jalea stood still for several minutes after Jessica left. She heard the young woman’s every foot step as she walked down the corridor away from her cabin. It had taken every ounce of self-control to keep from exploding and screaming out in sheer anger and frustration at the arrogance of the security officer. The woman had probably fought in less than a handful of battles-had witnessed only a few deaths of others. She had not suffered. She had not lost or felt the loss of loved ones. She had not witnessed the execution of hundreds or thousands of innocent lives. She had not walked the surface of planets that had been glassed from orbit by men in fancy uniforms sipping tea and eating pastries. And she would not prevent her from achieving retribution for the countless lives lost-especially for three of them.