06:00 Marcinko Bridge
“You look like hell,” Kristen said.
“Feel worse, on the plus side I get to have both meals with my wife. On that note, you are relieved,” John said.
John slowly sat down in the captain’s chair and began some paperwork. He wasn’t comfortable and didn’t have much energy still. But getting back into a normal routine was always something John enjoyed.
“Jessica, have we finished refueling and loading perishables?”
“Not yet sir,” Jessica paused and reviewed her workstation, “Engineering reports they are ready. Mess says they have several more pallets. Thirty minutes was their estimate.”
“Did we get a resupply of rail-gun rounds?”
“That was the first thing taken care of.”
“Captain, what course do you want us to take?” Nathan asked.
“What’s the quickest vector to take to get to a jump point?”
“That would the Belfast path with vectors to Kent.”
“File that plan at flank speeds to Manchester Control.”
“Roger,” Nathan was keying some things into his workstation.
“Captain, First Fleet sent us a reminder about a meeting in three hours. Your presence is required,” Antonio said.
“Understood. Respond that I will be at the meeting.”
The bridge continued to maintain a steady amount of work. Nathan received several messages from system control about their departure. They weren’t happy with John’s request for an expeditious exit. Ultimately, they were a navy vessel and control could do little besides adjusting what vectors they’d fly to the different waypoints.
Jessica was watching her screen as Chef and his workers were loading more food onboard. Antonio kept John up to date with the various messages sent to their ship. Eventually, everything was on board and they were ready to shove off.
“Sir, they asked us to not go to flank speed until we’re twenty thousand kilometers from the station,” Nathan said.
“Follow their vectors and speed. The moment we get to a safe range, punch the engines.”
“Understood.”
“Captain, we’re getting a message from the surface. Royal Family ID, from the princess.”
“Ignore it,” John said without emotion or looking up from his screen.
“She’s insistent.”
“I insist you ignore it,” John raised his head and looked at Antonio in annoyance.
“Ignore the message, sir. A recording of it will be sent to you, per the regs.”
“Very well,” John continued to work on paperwork.
“Chief, engines in the green I presume?” Nathan said as he held the communications button down.
“Engine’s purring pretty damn good,” Kevin said casually.
“All ahead flank. Captain, we should reach our transit point in four hours.”
“Understood, Kevin will be up in command when we go to slipstream. We should expect new orders when we get back to Sol.”
“Next leave at Pluto?” Jessica asked.
“Likely have some miners to check in the Oort cloud for a couple of weeks, then head into Pluto.”
09:15 Officers Conference Room
The meeting was running behind schedule. John, Senior Chief Stroll, and Lieutenant Page were all waiting. John was drinking water and trying to not fall asleep, a feat that was growing more difficult as time went on. Some commotion could be on the screen.
“Apologies for being late. I was hung up. Thank you all for being here. Cadet Lief, would you be so kind to provide an overview of the last week’s events.”
“Certainly sir. We had finished shore leave at Olympus Mons Minor station. We were heading to the Jovian system. There were a couple of independent mining ships on our route that we were going to do inspections on them. Once those would have been completed, we move into the Jovian system. But on our way into the belt, we detected a faint distress signal and then moved to intercept.”
“That was the princess’ transport that sent it?” a captain asked.
“Yes sir, the same transport that rejected her First Fleet escorts when they couldn’t keep up with their preferred rate of travel.”
“I presume this was brought up to them?” a rear admiral asked.
“I was very blunt, harsh, and very specific in my statements to them that their decision to forego escorts was ludicrously stupid. When they responded to such criticisms, they were shocked and couldn’t understand.”
“Typical royals,” a commander in the back said.
“Then what happened?” Admiral Dickinson asked.
“We went dark. And before anyone asks that was from my training and days in intelligence. Not knowing who or why the situation had occurred I believed going dark was the safest for everyone involved. We immediately went to flank speed to get to a jump point outside of Jupiter’s gravity well.”
“Part of running dark was eliminating outgoing messages, correct?” another admiral asked.
“I sent an encrypted message to Naval Intelligence, but as it turns out the relay satellite that received it was buffering all messages and delayed relaying the message to them until a couple of hours before we exited slipstream space near Manchester in the Proxima Centauri system.”
“So, you get to Manchester, then reunite the princess with her family. Then what?” Dickinson asked.
“Something about the station bothered me. It just felt off. Y’all know how non-military station crew act towards Naval protocols and commands. They never listen to any of them. But we never saw anyone on our way to the descent vehicle.”
“That was what caused you to be so suspicious?” a naval intelligence officer John wasn’t familiar with said.
“That coupled with what we experienced at the palace too.”
“It says here that the King was within his rights to charge you with Royal Contempt,” the same intelligence officer asked.
“I was not in the mood to deal with his bullshit. There had been several electronic war attacks made on the palace. The royal family’s military assets believed it was from a segment of the population that was unhappy with the royalty in general. Security personnel was scattered and less than a third were able to make it to work that day. But the attacks were actually a Mercantilist Union operation. Though why they were there and whether a third party had commissioned them to perform the attack is not known at this point”
“It says here that you ordered Senior Chief Stroll to shoot the remaining six survivors of the attack,” Deputy Director Matthias Baros said.
“They were husks.”
“Could you elaborate on that term cadet? I’m not sure everyone is as familiar with that term as you.” Dickinson asked the cadet to provide additional context.
“Imagine someone annihilating your personality, memories, and emotions. The only thing remaining of you would be autonomic bodily functions. What makes you, who and what you are, is no more, and never to be seen anymore. Killing them was a mercy, a thing of kindness.”
“Murdering prisoners of war is an act of kindness?” a captain shouted out.
Love what you're reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.
“Husks cannot learn, there is no recovery for them. They are a drain on resources until they die. Imagine sitting in a room staring at a wall comprehending nothing. Being force-fed, brought to the bathroom, and cleaned by someone else. For fifty-some years. Yes, I call their ending and preventing that horror a kindness.”
“Brutal but acceptable given the circumstances. Onto the leaders of this attack. You were familiar with them?” Baros asked.
“Dr. Norman’s top agents. The twins Lisa and Lex. Lisa is a homo sapiens superior and an alpha-level cryokinetic. Lex was a home sapiens plus along with an alpha-level pyrokinetic.”
“Was?” Baros asked.
“Lex was killed in the warehouse. He was split in two via mass reactive rounds. I then caused a jet fuel fire that incinerated his corpse before I called out for help and passed out.”
“What about the anti-psychic weapon they used?” Baros leaned in, “this worries us.”
“As it should. Based on the power suit’s data it’s not technically an anti-psychic weapon. It fired a wave of radiation that is highly toxic to our bodies in general. It causes disruptions in our minds centered in the areas that typically house telepathic abilities. It’s also incredibly damaging to soft tissue. The range is thankfully very short,” a doctor said.
“The damage I suffered was a combination of the weapon and my suit running at or beyond max output. Before anyone recommends that I get written up for operating an experimental power armor outside of naval specs, I’ve already submitted the paperwork to the First Fleet for a reprimand,” John said.
Admiral Dickinson smirked, “I will be in contact with you later, but I trust you learned an important lesson.”
“I have.”
“Naval Intelligence is already conducting tests to counter this new weapon. We’ve already sent word to the Mercantilist Union that should this weapon ever be used again or developed any further then harsh actions will be taken. Our contact responded that the message was understood and proper actions were taken,” Baros said.
“Continue with the development of countermeasures. Unless we are mistaken, Dr. Norman operates outside of the chain of command there,” Dickinson wasted no time giving the order.
“Our contact was asked to make that point abundantly clear that neither the Mercantilist military nor the government commissioned, much less authorized the use of such a weapon.”
“What about the incident at the medal ceremony?” Dickinson asked.
“That was caused by me leaving the hospital too soon and not having enough time to properly recover. On the plus side, it shut down the nonsense about me marrying into the royal family. I’ll call that a win-win.”
John’s statement drew chuckles from many in attendance.
“Thank you, cadet, we will send you any follow-up questions we have,” Dickinson said as he turned to the rest of the meeting members.
John switched the communications off and pushed his chair back. He slowly walked to the medical bay to get checked out. Alice shot him a couple of looks. She didn’t want any explanations there and then, but he was in trouble.
He couldn’t argue the point. She should be mad at him, John decided that he’d message her after he got a few lectures done. After that, he had homework to occupy the remaining two hours of his shift.
11:45 Backup Study Room
John sent a message to Alice, “You are pissed with me, aren’t you?”
Alice responded instantly, “Yes.”
“I shouldn’t have run off halfcocked like that.”
“No, you shouldn’t have.”
“I ran off without backup into a fight that it wasn’t entirely clear that I could win and didn’t think about the consequences because I was too consumed with ending a threat.”
“Correct.”
“This is another one of those scenarios where I have the intelligence to solve a problem, but I lacked the experience and wisdom to do it correctly.”
“Obviously.”
“That situation wasn’t worth risking my life and throwing away what we have and could have in the future. I am sorry for not doing things by the book and for the hurt and stress I caused you in the hospital.”
“Apology accepted, but this conversation isn’t over. When we get to Pluto station, we’ll chat about this in person,” Alice pressed enter but then kept on typing, “the Chief looked through the battle logs, had you taken a couple of people with you it’s possible the fight would’ve been ended at the Garden patio.”
John sat back in his chair and cursed at his impetuous nature. That a large part of the fighting could have been avoided or shortened struck a nerve with him. He sat in the room alone for twenty minutes thinking about the fight and the actions that were taken. He leaned back in his chair and sighed.
The door opened and it was the Senior Chief, “Ahh, good. I was hoping to find you.”
“Here to tell me how I fucked up that op?”
Stroll snorted, “Thought you weren’t psychic anymore.”
“That part is true, but a little birdie told me you ran some sims.”
“Can I speak freely?”
John nodded.
“I’m not here to talk about the sims, but that’s true. What bothered me is you running off like a mad man at an enemy. You’re training to not only be an officer but to be in command. I know you are exceptionally capable in damn near everything you set out to do. And I know you can manage a ship damn well. But after seeing you down there I don’t know if I trust you fully.”
“Because if the other half that didn’t die shows up, would I send this ship into a no-win scenario?”
“Well, would you?”
“The short answer is no. My wife is seriously pissed with me over this issue. As members of the Navy, we may be required to lay down our lives for the greater good, or to accomplish a mission. This was neither the time nor the place to do that. It’s easy for me to say that I wouldn’t endanger the ship to kill her, it’s another thing entirely for me to do just that if it arose.”
“Well, looks like learned something from that hot mess down on the surface, so there’s that,” Stroll sat down, “Look I don’t really want to bust your balls when you’re feeling down.”
“I feel like shit, but I’m not feeling that down,” John laughed painfully.
“Kid, I’ve been on a lot of these missions. I’ve never seen anyone with the raw talent that you have. But what’s lacking with you is the wisdom to make the right decisions. I get why you ran off, you are used to that lone wolf stuff that you spooks always do. You’re not in intelligence anymore though.”
“You know what pisses me off about this whole fucking mess?” John asked but he didn’t give Stroll anytime to answer, “My crew had this same fucking conversation last year. I got them involved in some bullshit, but they performed perfectly. Then here I go off by myself.”
“Running off half-cocked only to get your shit pushed in and permanently damaged. The docs at the hospital asked me to run some figures for them, care to hear what I came back with?”
“Hit me with it.”
“Two of my crew are Level 2B telepaths. They would’ve fried their brains in twenty-five to thirty minutes tops. The station’s Psi-Corp chief, a Level 4B telepath would’ve been fried in fifty-two minutes. Care to remember how long you were running under max load?”
“One hundred forty-three minutes. Give or take a couple.”
“We both know I’m no doctor, but I’m not convinced that enemy weapon did any damage to your mind. I’m pretty sure you did that to yourself. Well, I’m done kicking sick puppies. Thanks for letting me speak freely.”
“I appreciate the candor Chief.”
Senior Chief Stroll saluted and left the room. John swore at himself, now he knew, beyond a shadow of any doubt, that he had completely and totally fucked up the operation and himself. He sat in the chair and stared at the wall. He’d stay there for three and a half until one of the cadets came in to do some schoolwork.
16:15 Mess Hall
“Wow, you really fucked up. She is pissed at you.” Kevin said as he sat down next to John.
“Yeah, I did apologize. She accepted it but yeah, she’s still mad. Wants to have a talk when we get to Pluto Station.”
“Well, hopefully, she forgives you.”
“That makes two of us.”
“Though if I’m allowed to pitch a bitch, why the hell didn’t you take reinforcements with you? That was…”
“Idiotic, to say the least,” Andern sat down and took a bite from the donut.
“Agreed. Y’all want to hear how bad I fucked up things down there?” John shook his head and took a deep breath.
“Hearing you be this honest makes me feel like your human,” Kevin said smiling.
“Or a normie like us,” Andern added.
“My loss of telepathy may not have been from the weapon Lisa used. I may have burned myself out because I had the suit dialed up to eleven. I was probably a few minutes away from frying my own fucking brain.”
“That’s fucked,” Andern said.
“Seems like you only learn lessons after you reach too high,” Kevin said.
“It is in the character of growth that we should learn from both pleasant and unpleasant experiences,” John said as he put his fork down on the tray.
Andern and Kevin shook their head at him.
“Nelson Mandela. Means I ought to learn from this rather unpleasant memory.”
“Glad we could help,” Andern said smiling.
“I’m turning in early. Kevin, once again I’m sorry for piling onto your workload.”
“It’s all good, you’d do it for me if the roles were reversed.”
John got up and took his tray to the return area. Alice intercepted there and gave him a kiss. The couple exchanged ‘I love you’ messages and then headed to their respective rooms.
02:15 Captain’s Ready Room
“Apologies for waking you captain,” Lacey said.
“No problem, what’s up?”
“Message coming in for you, unsure of who it is though. Patch it through.”
John swung his legs around and stood up from his bed. He was sore but feeling better than when he went to sleep. The chair was uncomfortable cool when he sat down on it. John typed a few things into the keyboard and switched it over to communications, the face on the screen wasn’t someone he wanted to talk to.
“Well, y’all pushed a bit too hard this time. Your weapon didn’t work either by the way,” John leaned back.
“You killed my precious boy.”
“Yes, if your smart the girl won’t come anywhere near me. Because she is next on my list. But I’m feeling more generous than I ought to. Keep her out of Confed space and I won’t need to track her down. Do that and this unofficial armistice will last.”
“I’m not going to have you killed. You're too important for the plan. My plan. But I’m going to make sure you're caught. You’ll be hooked into a machine after your legs and arms are amputated. Then you’ll be made compliant in our scheme.”
“Look, I get that your angry and that’s probably making your whole egomaniacal supervillain nonsense dial it up a bit more than it should. But leave me alone and your precious daughter can kill and butcher or whatever outside of our space. Fuck if I care what happens in Alliance or Merc space.”
“I don’t understand why you aren’t in agreement with my plan. Humanity can be elevated; it needs to be elevated for what’s to come. One way or the other you will play your role.”
“Dr. Norman, let me make this abundantly clear for you. If you send her out for me again, I will hunt her down. And when I’m done with her, I’m coming for you and your organization. Your obviously intelligent, do the smart thing and drop me from your equations.”
John reached over and ended the call. He sighed and thought about the attack again. There was little to be happy about. True, one of them was killed and the other was seriously injured. But he had severely harmed himself in the process. A near-perfect pyrrhic victory.
He noticed a message had been sent to him. Admiral Dickinson approved his recommendation of a reprimand. There would be no punishment, but the admiral was in agreement with John’s conclusion that his actions were reckless. The heart of the message was in the right place, but backup should have been taken. The reprimand would be added to his file.
John then thought about the Senior Chief’s statement about the weapon not having much of an effect on him. He wasn’t in complete agreement with the chief. It did something to him, it may have pushed his damaged mind over the edge. But John was not going to cry over spilled milk, he was going to learn from this valuable life lesson. It was but one of many painful lessons he’d need to learn.