Paleon Sector, Battleship Singularity

So a fucking idiot and a soulless cockroach sat down for a conversation… It sounded like the start of a bad joke, but it had become unfunny all too quickly.

The next time he does something this stupid, the ghost thought darkly, I’m going to put an end to it. The reason she had tolerated this plan in the first place was well beyond her. It was an extremely stupid plan. Nathan Gadwood wouldn’t negotiate. The man would never settle for anything less than his desired end, whatever it may be. The mere reminder of him disgusted her. She had been fine to never cross paths with that nasty little cockroach again, but when the Admiral called to relay new orders, she could sense Gadwood’s grubby hands all over it.

It was in the Admiral’s voice. That tone of his was calm. A less familiar ear probably never would have caught the annoyance underneath that façade, but the ghost knew better. Admiral Gives didn’t appreciate being forced to give his own ship orders. She didn’t need their bond to tell her that.

And then there was the matter of those coordinates. They pissed her off almost as much as the rest of the situation. She ran the safety checks. Only a very trusting idiot wouldn’t run the safety checks in a situation like this. Those coordinates would have landed her in the middle of the Tomenta Sector’s magnetic storms: certain destruction.

Of course, there were gaps in those magnetic storms – stable gaps that could last for months or years. Technically, the exact coordinates that had been forwarded were for one such gap. Or, rather, the most recent navigational data the ship possessed, downloaded from the cortex, indicated that a calm spot had been scouted at that location. She wasn’t convinced, but Zarrey didn’t think twice about it. The only thing that stopped him from ordering that jump was the Admiral’s standing order regarding the FTL drives – an order that stood for another twenty-four minutes.

That order had initially frustrated her. She had not understood the Admiral’s reasoning. Now she did. The Admiral had predicted this. He had known that the Jayhawker might force him to send the ship elsewhere, that the destination might even be dangerous. Then, there was also the fact that staying here kept the ship within single-jump range of the station. The forwarded coordinates would have taken them further from Midwest Station, forcing the ship to make two jumps to get to the station.

And maybe, since no ship could jump directly to Midwest Station, that was irrelevant.

Except that it wasn’t.

In fact, that was quite critical because that too, was part of the plan. The order to disable the FTL drives was meant to keep the ship both safe and in single-jump range of Midwest Station. It even had a third purpose: an excuse, he’d called it. A so-called ‘malfunction’ was a lot more believable if the systems in question were being worked on or altered in some way.

So, in all, once the ghost was able to parse out the logic behind them, the Admiral’s orders were not so unreasonable. He had done nothing except give her the means to act, and she fully intended to use them.

Settled deep in the core of the ship, the bridge crew was agitated. They hated waiting, especially when they had been specifically ordered to do so. That left the crew in the semicircular command center quiet as they sat behind their consoles. Clicking keyboards and whispered voices were the only noise, a soft background ambience. Things were calm, even if tense, right up until the alert klaxons began to shriek their grating howl.

Zarrey slammed down his copy of the situation report as the rest of the crew bolted upright. “What the hell?” he had to shout to be heard over the noise. Was this a proximity alert? Had something snuck into range? No, he threw that idea out almost immediately. This alarm wasn’t only sounding on the bridge. He could see the yellow warning lights flashing in the corridor, but it wasn’t until he heard the noise stop and restart that he recognized the signal. Imminent FTL maneuvers. “Alba! Walters!” Zarrey shouted to the two men at the engineering and navigations stations. “I did not order a jump! And Robinson, damn it, mute that alarm!” He was too annoyed to put up with it. It was too loud.

Lieutenant Robinson tried, as the alert began its third and final blast, but she had no success in muting the alarm. “No good, sir,” she called down to the Colonel. “I’ve been locked out of the system.” Judging by their furious typing, Alba and Walters had encountered the same issue.

“Locked out?” Zarrey yelled. That doesn’t make sense. He raised his voice again, even as the now-absent alarm left him shouting into a near-silent room. “Somebody tell me what’s going on!” he demanded, fearing the worst. “Is Command attempting a remote override?”

“Unclear, sir.” Robinson answered him. “I never registered an incoming transmission.” Theoretically, if Command was going to attempt an override, they’d have to transmit the necessary codes and orders first.

“And Admiral Gives enacted the Strike Zero protocols in the Homebound Sector,” Alba reminded. “Command shouldn’t be able to override anything. This has to be a local issue.”

“Then figure it out!” Zarrey snapped. They couldn’t remain locked out of any of the ship’s systems, and they shouldn’t have alarms sounding randomly.

Naturally, Zarrey had no reason to believe the alarm had been sounded for a purpose, even as Chief Ty, below decks, heard and identified the imminent FTL maneuvers alert. He wasted no time in reconnecting the FTL drive to the power grid.

“Colonel,” Ensign Alba looked up from the displays on the engineering console, “FTL Drive Four has been reconnected. It’s beginning to charge.”

“What?” Zarrey roared. “How?” No, that didn’t matter. “Abort the charge.”

Alba tried. He tried repeatedly. “No good, sir. Controls are still dead.” He could issue no commands, but he could still see the systems’ condition. “There’s also an energy buildup in the power grid around FTL Drive Three.” Horrified, he watched the readouts change once again. With that kind of energy consumption… “Colonel, Drive Three is now charging as well.” The lights flickered above them on the bridge, and they blinked off for a moment before the battery backups took over. “Nearly the entire output of the secondary power core is being dedicated to arcing the severed powerlines.”

Colonel Zarrey stalled for a moment in the center of the bridge, unsure how to react to that. A part of him was in awe. It shouldn’t be possible to charge a disconnected FTL drive. The required amount of electricity was simply mind-boggling. But Zarrey’s awe only lasted a moment before it became distinct unease. With two FTL drives charging it was almost certain. We’re going to FTL. “Walters,” he called to the young navigations officer, “Where are we going?”

“I wish I could say, sir,” the young ensign squeaked, holding a white-knuckle grip on the blocky frame of the console in front of him. “The nav. computer is offline.”

“Offline?” Galhino cried. “We’re jumping blind?!”

“Hell fires in heaven,” Zarrey cursed. Without the nav. computer, they would have no control over where the FTL maneuver ended. It would spit them out in some random location, potentially somewhere dangerous. “Alba, identify the cause. We need to stop this, now.” A blind jump could cripple or destroy the ship. If they came out of a jump in coordinates shared by another phenomena, a planet, star, ion storm or even at coordinates too close to any of those, the consequences would be catastrophic.

“I can’t, sir.” Alba said, concern deepening the lines of his young face. “Perhaps the drives malfunctioned somehow and signaled for a charge while we disconnected them…”

It was clear that Alba had no explanation. He called it a malfunction because there was no better label for something that lacked an identifiable cause. Dammit. Zarrey slammed a fist down onto the backlit radar console. This could not be allowed to continue. It was madness. They’d have to disable the drives the way they should have when the Admiral had given his orders: physical disassembly.

Zarrey turned to give Alba new orders. Or rather, he tried. Instead, he found that his hands were glued to the cool metal frame of the radar console. His feet were similarly unresponsive, even his neck stuck staring ahead at the view screen. Damn it! He struggled to move, straining for just an inch of give on any of his limbs, but he was frozen. What the hell is this?

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“Hello, Colonel,” a cool, soothing voice said.

It was familiar. Why was that voice familiar to him? He tried to turn his head towards it to no avail. But, soon enough, its owner stepped into his line of sight. She moved gracefully, tall and thin, but her skin was pale, as if it had never seen terrestrial sunlight. Long white hair spilled over her shoulders. ‘You!’ Zarrey tried to shout, but even that motion was denied. ‘Witch!’ She was behind this paralysis. He just knew it.

She laughed, a soft, musical laugh. “You’ve called me worse.”

This was not funny. ‘Planning to do to me what you did to Cortana?’ he challenged. ‘I’m busy, so get on with it. I’m not afraid of you.’

“Oh, I know.” Zarrey was a brave soldier. He rarely cowered from anything, and he’d challenge her without a second thought. But, then again, she’d never sought to scare him. “Sergeant Cortana was an extenuating circumstance.” Cortana had proven dangerous to the rest of the crew on multiple occasions. “If you were me, you would understand.”

‘Like hell,’ he snapped. ‘Release me, witch.’ There was a crisis occurring on the bridge. He could hear the crew calling for him dimly in the background.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Colonel.” It was unfortunate, but that was reality. “You see, I know what orders you’re about to give – orders to physically disassemble the FTL drives and rather barbarically prevent their use.” She narrowed her eyes. “And to be honest, that would be rather unpleasant.”

‘Good.’ Zarrey retorted.

The lighthearted amusement fell from her expression. “Those orders would dangerous, Colonel, to the engineers who fulfill them.” FTL drives were exceptionally dangerous once they began their charge. There was a reason they were kept in isolated places on the ship, distant from the engineering and crew centers. The energies they built up and contained would kill if released improperly. “It would also condemn the three crewmen on Midwest Station to certain death.”

The three men on Midwest Station? What did they have to do with this?

“I’d like them to live, so I cannot allow you to physically counter the FTL charge.” she said. “And, I apologize, but I need to borrow the ship.”

Borrow the ship? Zarrey did not like the sound of that. ‘Leave the Singularity out of this,’ he growled.

She raised an eyebrow. Peculiar. “Usually, the words you direct toward this ship are not so kind.” She had not expected such concern from him.

‘The damn machine likes to push my buttons, but she ain’t so bad when push comes to shove.’ Despite all the mishaps he endured on maintenance duty, he’d never once been hurt.

She laughed again, the musical sound warm and non-threatening. “I knew I liked you.”

‘Don’t you dare, you damn alien witch.’ He could sense the power burgling up in her presence. She was making her move. ‘I don’t know what you are, or where you came from, but you will release our ship.’

“I am no more alien than you, Colonel.” Arguably less so. This was her native environment. She, unlike him, could survive out here in the void.

‘Back off,’ Zarrey snarled. ‘The Admiral left me in charge, so I’ll be damned before I let some white-haired witch hijack his ship.’

“Rest assured, no harm will come to the ship and crew.” They were safe in her care. “This won’t take long.” Both FTL drives were nearly charged now.

Zarrey knew there was nothing he could do. Immobilized and confronted with the power he sensed in the ghost, he knew this situation was well beyond his control. ‘Fucking hell, if I live, I’m never going to hear the end of this.’ The crew was never going to let him forget him freezing up on the bridge. And the Admiral, if he somehow made it back, was never going to let him forget the ship getting hijacked with a full crew complement completely unaware.

Amusement twisted her expression into a gentle smile. “My lips are sealed, Colonel.” The blame for this situation wouldn’t fall onto him. She would see to that. He had done nothing wrong. “And between you and me,” she leaned forward, as if to whisper a secret, “this is the Admiral’s fault.”

Paralyzed, Zarrey strained his eyes to keep her in sight. Considering the rumors, seeing her at all was unnerving, but this proximity was downright unsettling, as was her strangely friendly demeanor.

“This is his plan, but he didn’t read the crew in on it.” the ghost told him. “It wasn’t a good plan, in fact, it’s quite terrible. That idiot barely left any instructions at all, but I’m making do.”

It wasn’t her words, but the annoyance with which she spoke. Something about it felt so incredibly genuine. It transformed Zarrey’s fear into an unexpected urge to laugh. ‘Oh, so that asshole left everyone in the dark.’ Fucking typical.

She stepped back, a warm expression on her face. “He tends to overcomplicate matters that should not be complicated, and he’s a special variety of idiot, but he usually means well.”

Zarrey didn’t hate this abrupt feeling of camaraderie. It was strange, but he didn’t hate it. ‘He means well, does he?’ None of the crew would go that far on an assumption of the Admiral’s intentions. ‘Brave declaration. You must think you know him well.’

She only chuckled. “Let’s just say I know his reasons, just as I know yours.” There were reasons Zarrey wouldn’t turn on the Admiral, reasons he wouldn’t initiate a mutiny. “Our objectives are the same, Colonel. You want to rescue the away team, and I can make that happen.”

Zarrey looked her over. He had never felt threatened by her, discomforted perhaps, but not directly threatened. The logical part of his brain told him this was a deal with a devil, but she just felt so familiar, never mind the fact that she was standing in the uniform of one of the ship’s officers. ‘Do it,’ he agreed. ‘I want our people back.’

A smile pulled at her lips. “Strictly speaking, I did not need your permission, but it is nice to have.” That helped calm her as she ran her final checks. FTL Drive Four, charged. FTL Drive Three, charged. Standing by for FTL jump. The signal would come any time now. “You might want to hold onto something,” she warned Zarrey. “This can get a little… interesting.”

Zarrey found he could move his hand just far enough to get a solid grip on the edge of the radar console. That was reassuring. ‘What are you going to do?’

There was a harmless curiosity in him. For this brief moment, she had earned Zarrey’s trust, and in this moment, she wanted to tell him. She wanted to explain what she could as she looked upon his familiar face, but the same old fear stopped her. The more Zarrey knew, the more danger both he and she would be in. Because of that, there was no point in telling him anything. The memory would just have to be removed from his mind. This entire conversation was already forfeit. Zarrey wouldn’t remember it when she released him. “Unfortunately, Colonel,” she forced herself to respond, “properly answering that question is complicated.”

Her expression had genuinely fallen. While he could sense her power, how it stifled and bound him here, there was something weaker about her in this instant. No, weak was the wrong word. There was something gentler about her in this instant – the gentleness of someone who didn’t want to harm him. I’m going insane. This thing had to be messing with his head. It was clearly capable. And yet, as much as Zarrey tried to convince himself of that, her nagging familiarity stopped him. He recognized her voice. He knew it, he just couldn’t place why he knew it. ‘Why do I know you?’ He had seen this presence once before, back in the Aragonian Sector standing over the Admiral’s body, a rather menacing specter. But she hadn’t spoken then. In fact, until rumors of the Sergeant’s incident had circulated, he’d never heard it rumored she could speak.

“Why shouldn’t you know me?” What was so strange about that? Still, she furrowed her brows, reading the thoughts behind his words. Ah. “My voice. You’ve heard it before.” Rightfully, he should recognize it. “I was given the ability to communicate, but I possess no vocal cords. Technically, this voice is not mine, though it serves well enough.” It was borrowed. “My power isn’t infinite, Colonel.” Physically, she could wreak incredible carnage, but mentally, she was limited. “I can only mimic a memory.”

‘A memory?’

She nodded. “A memory. Nothing more.” There was a reason she appeared this way, a reason she spoke with this voice. “I can cast illusions, force people to relieve memories that belonged to them or someone else, but those memories I manipulate feel far more real if they belong to you.” She couldn’t create sensation from nothing. She was not human. Anything she herself tried to create would be indecipherable to the human mind – purely alien in nature. “If I wish to speak to you in this way, it must be with a voice you’ve heard before,” a timbre, range and accent she could manipulate to form the proper words.

Zarrey regarded her slim form. The look upon her pale face seemed earnest. ‘Why are you telling me this?’

“Because someday, I hope you can understand.” It didn’t matter now, but someday… Someday maybe it would. “For most, I will never be anything more than a ghost.” Often, she could only manifest as the uncanny resemblance of someone her target had once known. Because of that, people feared her. She had felt that fear, felt it turn to rage and hate. “But you… The rest of this crew… You can see me as an entity onto myself.” That legend, that old legend, had given her a form to manifest in that didn’t have to twist the memories of their loved ones, and that was a gift, because she more than anyone knew how painful memory could be.

She forced a smile to her lips. “I owe you for that. I owe all of you for that and so much more.” This crew meant more to her than any of them could possibly know. “You won’t remember this, but for now, let me thank you for listening.” She had expected more resistance. She had expected spite and frustration, but she was met with an unexpected understanding. “You are more observant than I realized.”

‘Wait a damn minute,’ he said. ‘What do you mean I’m not going to remember this?’ At the moment, this seemed pretty hard to forget.

She smiled again, gently. “It’ll keep you safe for a little while longer.” The Admiral was already being hunted by Manhattan. She would not allow the same fate to befall Colonel Zarrey. Hiding herself would buy them both precious time. “I’m sorry.” This had all gotten so complicated.

Sadly, she saw the Colonel’s expression glaze over as her power reached in and began to remove these memories, pulling out and discarding them. She was gentle, gentle as she could be, even as she felt her attention drawn in another direction.

‘Now.’

Aye, Admiral. Negotiations had officially broken down, as she’d known they would. Tightening her grip on the ship’s systems, she obeyed the summons and jumped to subspace.

Let’s end this.