Homebound Sector, Haven System, Battleship Singularity
Lieutenant Colonel Flagg pulled his hand back from the fractured support as though he’d been bitten.
Sergeant Cortana cast a nervous glance around the large, open room from where she stood, holding the rifle she had confiscated from the Marine guard. She had been right to bring the inspector here. The structural damage had been obvious from the moment they had entered the room. Flagg had gone immediately to scrutinize the broken support, but the second he touched it, feeling out the depths of the cracks, the ship itself had seemed to protest.
The lights had flickered, accompanied by the horrible shriek of twisted metal as the deck jolted beneath their feet. “That can’t be good,” the inspector said dryly, cautiously looking up the length of the jagged support.
Flagg did a lap around the column, noting that an additional support and cross braces had been added during repairs. Unfortunately, even with those measures in place, he had to observe the depth of the original damage. No doubt, it had been a severe blow. The Singularity had endured damage that would have left other ships lifeless husks, but that didn’t mean she was better off. If anything, the illusion of indestructability would lead to a terrible tragedy.
Flagg had been ordered to complete a thorough inspection, so he reached out to feel the support again. Cortana watched him, mortified. Flagg himself tensed up when he made contact with the metal, expecting another violent protest, but the ship only continued the low groans that had started after the jarring deck movement. He shook off the irrational thought that his contact with the support had caused anything abnormal and continued to feel out the damage.
“Stop it, won’t you?” Callie cried. It was clear the ship was not reacting well to the inspector’s poking and prodding.
Cortana primed her weapon, already annoyed by the engineer’s continual protests. “Can it, pipsqueak, or I’ll knock you unconscious, just like your friend.”
Ensign Smith quit straining against her restraints at once, forced to sit at the Sergeant’s feet. Beside her, Cadet Santino lay unconscious, his hands bound behind his back. He hadn’t moved since getting shocked by the Sergeant’s sidearm, but he was still breathing. “What do you want, Sergeant?” Why was she here, cooperating with the inspector?
“I just want off this cursed ship.” She just wanted to get back to her real life and friends down in Eagle’s Talon.
“There are a lot of easier ways to go about that,” Callie answered. These lengths were unnecessary. “Admiral Gives would transfer you if you asked.”
“Somehow I doubt that,” Cortana muttered. She very much doubted that the cruelest officer in the fleet would have any pity for her desires, especially when his brother had died under her guard.
Flagg snapped some photos and began edging a probe into the crevasses of the damaged support, gauging their depth. As he did so, a low grinding chirr echoed around them. Everyone in the room winced. “Such an ugly noise,” Flagg was sure the issue was here. After all, this portion of the ship had taken the nuclear blast’s direct force.
“Well, I wouldn’t make a pleasant noise if someone had just gone poking my deepest wound.”
“Can it, pipsqueak,” Cortana said, pushing Callie to roughly bend over with her boot. The Ensign groaned in helpless discomfort, straining to fold over that far. “Don’t make me ask you again.”
“Then I should not need to ask this twice: what exactly do you think you are doing?”
Every head in the room snapped to the entrance of the compartment. “Well?” the Admiral prompted, leading a Marine and the ship’s SAR dog into the room.
Callie felt a wave of relief wash over her, but that lasted only a second. Sergeant Cortana stepped forward, “Sir, with all due respect. Stay where you are. This is a necessary and legal investigation into the structural soundness of this ship.”
Admiral Gives didn’t even pause. “Is this your ship, Sergeant?”
“No, sir,” she said, gripping her rifle.
Didn’t think so. “She’s mine, and nothing is legal aboard these decks until I say it is.” He saw the inspector reach toward the support, “Lieutenant Colonel, do not touch my ship.”
Flagg shivered a bit under his glare but ignored it. “I’m just doing my job, sir.”
“And so am I,” Cortana added, raising the rifle, “Stay where you are. You do not have the right to interfere in this matter.” Not even he, the Fleet Admiral, could interfere in the inspection of his ship, but even as he stood there, she couldn’t shake that nagging sense of familiarity. His facial structure was very similar to his brother’s, but the Secretary’s warmth and passion were totally absent.
Even in physical appearance, the Admiral was colder and darker. The Secretary’s hair had been a ruddy brown, his eyes a warm chocolate. The Admiral’s hair was darker, apparently black save for the grays that flecked it. The two brothers could have been caricatures of good and evil in the opposite ways they carried themselves. There was just one problem: the good brother was the dead one.
“Do you intend to shoot me, Sergeant?” the Admiral asked, staring evenly down the barrel of the weapon.
Cortana felt disproportionately threatened by the man in her sights. His stormy blue gaze seemed to pierce right through her. “If I must, sir,” she said, unable to shake the memory of Secretary Gives’ death. What was she doing, holding a gun on his brother? “Stay where you are.”
“No,” the Admiral said simply, stepping forward.
“Sir, I am warning you. Stay where you are.”
Pointedly, he took another step.
“Stay there!” She ordered, curling her finger around the trigger. He’s toying with me. She was certain of that. She could see it in his stony demeanor. This struggle was of no consequence to him, despite the loaded gun aimed at his chest.
He stepped again, now just another step from the end of the gun barrel.
Cortana saw the unease of the Marine behind the Admiral, and never more certain that she was in danger, she pulled the trigger.
Bang! Bang! Bang! The report of the rifle echoed through the large compartment, bouncing off the ship’s exposed structural skeleton. The muzzle flashes were only momentary, but the stench of propellant wafted in the air. Yet, no body hit the floor and no blood splattered from wounds. The bullets hung suspended in the air just a few inches from the end of the gun barrel.
Admiral Gives regarded them with a distinctive lack of interest. Well, would you look at that. He reached up to lightly spin one where it hung.
Sergeant Cortana watched him, speechless. What. The. Fuck.
The Admiral plucked the three bullets from the air with his bare fingers, regarding the priceless look of shock on her face. “Perhaps I should have clarified. When I said nothing is legal aboard this ship until I say it is, I meant to include the laws of physics.” He pushed the rifle lightly to the side, and stepped forward to grab the sidearm from the holster on her hip.
Admiral Gives handed the pistol off to Corporal Eric, and turned again to the inspector, adding a tint of ice to his tone, “Do not touch my ship.”
Flagg instantly took three large steps away from the pillar, shivering. The new edge in the Admiral’s tone rendered his previous directive to step away downright polite. It wasn’t something the inspector would challenge under fear of his life.
Ignoring the inspector, Admiral Gives moved towards the support, studying the damage for the first time. A spider web of cracks covered the column. The collapsed support had been forcibly straightened, but it carried the scars. Some of the fissures had been welded closed or filled in, but they were all still visible. Without a spacedock, this type support couldn’t be replaced, and that type of extended overhaul was a death sentence to a ship Command had already tried to decommission.
Flagg saw him reach out to the damage, “Sir, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
The Admiral ignored him and gave the support a soft pat. She was a tough ship, strong enough to survive him, and that said something. His touch seemed to somewhat pacify the old ship. The incessant groans faded away to nothing. Inspectors never have any clue how to properly treat a ship. They were always poking and prodding, never lending respect or compassion.
The Admiral took note of everyone’s surprise. They stared at him like they’d never seen a commanding officer interact with their ship. Even Corporal Eric was just standing there uselessly. Need I do everything myself? “Corporal, untie Ensign Smith and Cadet Santino. Then take the Cadet to sickbay.” It was safest to have the unconscious young Marine checked out. “I will handle things here.”
He turned again to the inspector, “Lieutenant Colonel, you may proceed with your inspection, but I believe I have made myself clear.” Don’t touch my ship. “I understand you were ordered to make this inspection without announcing yourself, but if I ever find you aboard my ship without permission again, you will not be leaving.” Not alive, anyway.
“Yes, sir. It won’t happen again,” Flagg said, his voice small.
Alise Cortana was simultaneously shocked and horrified. She had never met someone so blatantly dangerous or uncaring. Admiral Gives delivered that death threat like it was an unimportant fact in the midst of a report. His lack of anger just made Flagg’s life seem totally worthless, and perhaps to a sociopath, it was. He’s sick. It was all she could think as the Admiral helped the tiny engineer to her feet.
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“Are you hurt, Ensign?”
“No, Admiral.” Callie answered, rubbing her wrists where they had been bound. “Just a little shaken.” It wasn’t every day that she was taken hostage while monitoring the condition of repairs aboard ship. “We’re going to fail inspection, aren’t we?” The engineers’ best work would still allow Command to decommission the ship.
“Most likely.”
In many ways, this ship was Callie’s first real home, the first place she’d ever felt safe, but now that was going to be torn from her. “They’ll deport me back to Sagittarion,” back to the factories, back to the pollution and overpopulation.
“I am not going to let that happen, Ensign.” It was the Admiral’s job to protect his ship and her crew. “I certainly will not allow my ship to be stripped down for parts. She has unfinished business.” There would be vindication for the losses they had taken in the Aragonian Sector. He knew that beneath the wounds, beneath the dust of years, and beneath that shell of uncaring, every part of the Singularity was taunt with heated anger. The battleship’s warrior spirit was more than unabated, it was alive. And it was calling for revenge.
“You make that unfinished business sound like a threat, Admiral.”
“Because it is.” The people who had forced bloodshed upon these decks should very much fear what the Bloody Singularity could and would do to them. Hell had no fury to rival that of humanity’s man-made grim reaper. The Admiral was determined to keep the Singularity out of Reeter’s war, but that didn’t mean that she would not return to pick off whichever of her enemies survived. It might be months or years from now, but she’d have her revenge.
“Remember, Ensign, the last ship sailing wins the war. The last man standing has nothing to do with it.” Reeter and his New Era acolytes might kill Admiral Gives, they might kill everyone, but as long as their fleet sank in the process, then it was only a matter of time until they were ultimately defeated. Even the best army in the galaxy was no match for a battleship.
“What war, Admiral?” Callie asked, “I thought you were trying to earn peace.” Surely things had not turned around that quickly?
War was inevitable. It was the very instinct of humanity to hurt and kill one another, some self-destructive means of population control. There was some unspoken trigger, and when blood was spilled, more had to be spilled in return. Written into humanity’s very DNA, it was an irresistible blood impulse.
However, that ugly truth was not what Ensign Smith wanted to hear from him. She just wanted to hear that everything would be fine. She just wanted to know that she and her crewmates would be safe. She wanted reassurance that what had happened in the Aragonian Sector wasn’t going to happen again. Unfortunately, he’d never been particularly gifted at that type of reassurance and he preferred not to lie to his crew. “Ensign-”
When Callie noticeably flinched, Admiral Gives could sense the movement behind him, and spun to face the perpetrator, placing his mass directly between Smith and the Sergeant.
Cortana paused where she was. She’d underestimated how attentive he was to his surroundings. His posture hadn’t changed, but his placement was defensive. She tightened her grip on the rifle in her hands. The Admiral’s cold blue stare was exceptionally unnerving.
“Sergeant, stay where you are,” he ordered.
“Why?” Could it be that her willingness to shoot had actually unnerved the Steel Prince? Maybe whatever trick he’d used with the gun earlier was now void.
“I am your superior officer, Sergeant,” he reminded. “I expect to be addressed as such, and I expect my orders to be followed. Stay where you are.” The Sergeant took another step, seeming to test his patience. Behind him, Ensign Smith flinched again.
“I can’t help but notice that the little engineer you were speaking with wasn’t addressing you with the proper formalities, sir.” Cortana glared at him, “Was I wrong to assume I could do the same?” She moved to the side, but still, the Admiral stepped between them.
Callie was mortified, a combination of the Sergeant’s approach, and the realization that she was right. “Sorry!”
“That should be ‘Sorry, sir,’ shouldn’t it, sir?” Alise said.
“That’s enough, Sergeant.” He didn’t bother to correct the Ensign’s lack of formalities because she was a respectful, loyal member of his ship’s crew. The Sergeant was neither, and on the verge of genuinely pissing him off.
Touchy subject, Cortana realized, interesting. She took another step closer, wondering how fast this would get her kicked off the ship and sent back to Eagle’s Talon.
The Admiral took a step forward, “Sergeant, you do not want to make me angry.” That would be a mistake.
A bit of frost crept into his tone, but it barely gave her pause. “I appreciate the concern, sir,” she sighed, “but I think I can handle myself.” She was a highly-trained Marine. She’d taken down a few cocky fleet officers, and she was pretty sure the Fleet Admiral wasn’t going to be any different. At this point, he seemed all bark and no bite.
“You may want to reconsider that,” Admiral Gives warned, stepping closer. I certainly would hate to kill you in front of the Ensign.
A darkness started seeping into the air, cold and malicious. Suddenly, the calm intent in the Admiral’s eyes took on a whole new meaning. Instinctively, she raised her rifle.
Pathetic. “You were wrong to challenge me aboard this ship, Sergeant.” This was his domain. His authority here was more than real, it was absolute.
Before her was a man who was very well aware of his ability to bring life and to bring death. And presented with those stormy eyes, it was clear that her life was not only in his hands, but hardly worth his consideration. In a single notion: this was the most terrifying thing she had ever seen.
Self-preservation took over – fight or flight. She stepped back, her rational mind slipping through her fingers.
Humans were little more than animals, controlled by instincts that were so easily manipulated. With the right amount of blatant danger, the mind just shut down. Still, she wasn’t getting away that easily. The Admiral followed her retreat step-for-step.
Fight, her instincts cried. “Stay away,” she said, sighting her rifle.
It seemed he had a slow learner on his hands. The Admiral would not deny being slightly amused by this whole charade.
Bang! The gun went off, but once again the round stopped just a few inches from the end of the barrel.
Admiral Gives plucked that bullet from the air, just as he had the others. “Do you know the definition of insanity, Sergeant?”
Bang! Bang! The noise was all that ricocheted across the metal.
The sheer terror in her eyes was so plain to see, only further amusing the Admiral. He hadn’t done anything genuinely scary yet, not compared to what he could do. He pulled latest bullets from the air, “Insanity is a lack of logic, the repetition of the same action under the same circumstances with the expectation of a different result.” He stared at Cortana from the other side of her sights, simultaneously amused, and so very bored of her ignorance. “You could shoot that entire clip at me, Sergeant, but not a single bullet would land.”
How? She was certain the rifle was noticeably shaking in her hands. How was that possible?
She was quaking in her boots at the fear of the unknown, how disappointing. Just moments ago this self-centered Marine had been openly challenging him. “Sergeant, if I wanted you dead, I would have killed you by now,” but she was no real threat. “Calm down.”
A part of her knew this rifle was useless, but she still held it in a death grip. “How?” she demanded. How had he rendered this rifle useless?
“All Marines are trained in martial combat methods and weapons. I do not suppose you would like to tell me why?”
She saw no relevance to the question, “To fight in the event being disarmed or running out of ammunition.” Marines were trained to fight in all circumstances.
Wrong answer, it was the nearsightedness of a Marine who’d only served planetary assignments. “Ensign?” he prompted Smith.
“Marines and officers are trained in martial combat because the inertial dampening systems of a battleship render traditional firearms useless when fully active in combat. It is necessary to repel boarders,” she answered the question eagerly, quickly adding, “sir.”
“Correct,” he said. At least my crew isn’t oblivious. “So, to render your rifle completely useless, what must I have done before I walked in here, Sergeant?”
“Activated the inertial dampening systems,” she realized.
He had called CIC to do so, “Correct.” This was trivial. Anyone half-prepared for a post on a battleship would have seen it coming. “A word of advice, Sergeant, if you are going to shoot your commanding officer, make sure he or she is an idiot first.”
As terrifying as the man was, he did not seem angry about the whole event. The darkness of his presence had dispersed, leaving him perfectly neutral. “How did you know I would shoot?” That was one hell of an assumption.
“You are not the first Marine Sergeant General Clarke has sent aboard this ship.” Far from it.
“That’s not an answer,” she said.
“And I am not obligated to give you one.” He in fact, had no obligation to do anything in this situation except airlock her for mutiny.
Cortana lowered her rifle, confused. Why had Clarke sent her here? Had he known she would shoot as well? Flicking the safety on, she remembered that wasn’t the only weapon she’d had. The holster attached to her hip was now empty. “You took my sidearm.”
“Yes,” he confirmed simply.
“Why?” He hadn’t bothered to confiscate her rifle.
“Inertial dampeners isolate and dampen kinetic energy. Electrical energy is not affected. The electric discharge function of the Stinger standard-issue fleet sidearm can be fired normally, even under full inertial dampeners. It was the only weapon you had on you that could have done anyone in the room harm.” Clearly, she had been unaware of that.
“And what do you intend to do with me?” After directly refusing the commands of her superior officer, and attempting to shoot a flag officer, she was a criminal. He was within his rights to execute her.
What an interesting question. What was a fitting punishment for a criminal such as this? Continual asphyxiation, electroshock, perhaps a whipping? Then there was gravity torture and water boarding as well. So many good options.
The longer he stood in silence, the more Alise Cortana was certain that he was contemplating something truly horrific behind that façade.
That uneasiness was rising again in her expression. Good. “I want you to walk away from this compartment knowing that if you ever lay another hand on my crew, you will wish I had executed you.” She could shoot at him all she wanted, but tying up the crew, frightening them, was unacceptable.
“If you take one thing with you from this encounter, Sergeant Cortana, then let it be this: I am not the man my brother was. He believed in peace and prosperity. I believe in doing my job. Get in my way, and that will be the end of you.” He’d killed before and he would do it again. “Now, leave.” Her new crewmates would deal the only necessary reprimand, and that was isolation. Coming from Eagle’s Talon, where she had constant friends, that was punishment enough.
He knew who I was. He’d known all along that she had been his brother’s security guard. But how? She had not reported in or introduced herself. Still, she knew now wasn’t the time to ask.
Admiral Gives watched her leave, her shame and horror following her like a shadow. Admittedly, he could have been more gentle, but he had been considerably more focused on scaring her away from Ensign Smith. “Are you alright, Ensign?” The Sergeant’s earlier approach had frightened her, and considering how Cortana had treated her, that was understandable.
“Yes, Admiral,” she answered, “thank you.” The whole event had brought up some bad memories. She appreciated his dedication to keeping the Sergeant away, but it was a stiff reminder of how truly terrifying he could be. When he conjured up that darkness, fear was the only response. There was something horrifically unnatural, sadistically intelligent about it. It felt very irrefutably evil.
The inspector was looking pale, probably wondering if the Admiral would turn that darkness against him. Admiral Gives was in no mood to comfort him. “Your conclusion, Lieutenant Colonel?”
“I’m sorry,” Flagg squeaked out. “I can’t pass her like this. The damage was severe.”
“And?”
“With luck t-they’ll do more t-thorough checks, b-but…” Flagg would really, really rather not be responsible for this, especially considering the horror he’d just seen that Marine put through.
“Very well, Lieutenant Colonel. I will await Command’s decision.” They would either sentence the ship to structural testing, or they would just decommission her. Likely, it would be the latter. “Ensign, please show the inspector to the hangar deck.” No way was this Command puppet staying on his ship any longer than necessary.
Confronted with the reality that the Singularity had failed inspection, Admiral Gives just wanted to be alone.