Battleship Trafalgar

System Unknown

The sensor reported no life signs aboard the derelict vessel.

“What about that planet?” Harding asked. Martinez who ran a sensor sweep again.

“Uninhabited,” he reported.

Chase looked out of the forward viewport. The scans of the Trafalgar were superimposed over the view of the planet. Somewhere in the background, the actual Trafalgar was in perspective with the rest of the system but unable to be identified by the naked eye, unlike the bright orange flash now sweeping across the stars.

“The hell is that?” asked Harding, getting to her feet.

“Looks like a drive plume of some description,” said Martinez, working his console quickly and efficiently.

“It’s heading straight for the Trafalgar,” said Wokoma from the helm. “Should I intercept?” she asked.

“No, hold position,” said Harding, and then turned, looking Chase straight in the eye. “Mr Chase, take a team on a shuttle and secure the Trafalgar.”

Chase didn’t have to be told twice. He simply threw a nod. “Mam,” he acknowledged, pointing at Wokoma and Martinez. They headed out to the shuttle bay.

“Well, now you’ve done it,” Dryden said as Chase stepped into the hangar.

“Why? Because I arrived just when things got exciting, or because I finally found this impossible survivorship you’ve been chasing for years?” he said.

“Oh, like that, is it?” said Dryden as he stowed the gear in the shuttle’s rear. Wokoma took her place in the pilot seat, with Chase in the forward seat next to her. They cleared the Mary Rose without issue.

“Do we have anything more on that ship?” Chase asked her.

“It’s not a ship, some sort of lifepod,”

“Who in their right mind would use one to get from A to B?” Chase asked.

“Usually, we could outmanoeuvre and outgun it,” said Wokoma. “However, that thing was already on top of Trafalgar when we first spotted it.”

“So, what are you telling me?” he queried. “Did we get any lifeforms readings?”

“There’s just one occupant, in the pod. Human female, late twenties or early thirties.” said Dryden. The Trafalgar was looming pretty large in the front of the shuttle. “Despite the centuries she’s been adrift, the paint still isn’t even scratched,”

Wokoma looked at him. “She took one trip and has been in a vacuum the whole time. What the hell would she have done to get scratched?” she asked. “I’m reading basic power and basic power readings for her deflectors. That would stop any micro meteors from breaking her up,”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Agreed Chase, admiring the ship’s lines “Still, she’s a pretty lady.”

“I’m picking up several docking hatches along the port and starboard sides,” said Martinez.

“Is there a main bay?” asked Chase.

“There is. It’s to the rear,” Martinez replied, throwing up a display in front of him indicating exactly where it was to the ship’s aft.

“The question is whether we can get the computer to open the bay door and let us land. Have we been able to make a connection?” asked Chase.

“I have not,” Dryden replied, “but I do have a period standard greetings code that should activate it.”

“Okay, keep trying. Take us around for one pass. If it doesn’t work, we’ll try one of the port side docks,” Chase confirmed, looking out.

He looked at the viewport as they passed the nameplate on the hull. Individual letters were larger than the shuttle itself. It was the details that identified ships of this age. Modern ships still had a nameplate and registration, but this had an old-world charm. Chase let out a whistle. He couldn’t help but be impressed.

“I’m right there with you, boss,” agreed Dryden. “Damn handsome lady.”

“You guys know it’s not really a done thing to refer to a ship as a woman anymore, right?” Wokoma chided them.

“We were doing nothing of the sort,” said Dryden defensively.

They reached the end of the Trafalgar, and the shuttle came around to approach the docking bay. So far, there has been no luck in activating the door.

“Nothing?” Chase asked.

“Not just yet,” said Wokoma. “Standby.” She continued to send out the code.

“Getting a lifeform reading from the Trafalgar,” said Dryden.

“Our friend from the pod?” asked Chase.

“Looks like it,” agreed Wokoma.

“How accurate of a reading can you get?” asked Chase, turning to look at Dryden. “They are in the engine room. Wait, no, the corridors leading towards the aft.”

“Finding them is gonna be our first priority,” said Chase. “I don’t want anyone scuttling our ship,” he said, “or trying to make a claim on it.”

“Yes, gotcha!” called Wokoma with a celebratory fist pump.

Chase looked back out the front of the shuttle as the bay door starting to open.

“Great work, Wokoma,” he said, giving her a pat on the back. “Now, take us in nice and slow.”

“Sure thing,” she said, and gently moved the shuttle forward.

The bay itself was very large, but not empty. There were secondary lights on and half a dozen shuttles that had been in the bay for over two centuries. Chase wondered what had happened to the other shuttles.

They touched down, and Chase pulled a plasma rifle from the rack before disembarking. Standing at the back of the bay was a young woman in her early thirties. She was frozen on the spot.

Chase aimed and called for her surrender.

“We are with the Alpha Persei Cluster Navy. You are on this vessel illegally and will be detained for questioning,” he said. She didn’t seem to offer any resistance as he walked over, released the cuffs from the back of his belt buckle and slipped them around her wrists.

“Right. What’s your name?” he asked her.

“My friends call me Grace Dakota.”

“My friends call me Lt Cmdr Chase.”

***

The large entrance door burst open with a mechanical groan as Chase entered the Brig. Grace was in the cell, pacing up and down, only stopping to look at him when she heard him. He felt slightly guilty that he hadn’t put her in one of the roomier cells on the deck above.

The cell was large enough room for a fold out shelf and a draw with necessary facilities. Dryden had made sure the plumbing was still functional before they brought her in. Grace was sitting on the shelf staring at him through the forefield with its gentle hum. Chase stared into the cell and met her gaze.

“Good afternoon, Miss Jenkins,” Chase said as he walked into the Brig. He noticed her bristle. “I’ve been reading your file.” He waved the slate to illustrate.

“As I said, my name is Grace Dakota,” she snapped back.

Checking the slate in one hand, her file listed the details from the central database. Chase held a mug of coffee in his other hand, one of those mugs that seal itself to keep it hot. He needed the coffee. Setting the mug down after taking a sip, he scrolled through her records.

“Not according to your file,” he said. “Grace Jenkins of Cerebos III. You have been reported missing.”

“If you care to check the latest update, you find that my name has been legally changed,” she said firmly, “and that’s all I will say on the matter. Until I can consult my lawyer,” she added.

Chase found himself unable to hide his amusement at her having the audacity to request representation beyond the Cluster’s jurisdictions.

“That’s not gonna happen, Miss Jenkins. Sorry, I mean Dakota. As I explained, we’re not in the cluster, and we are therefore not subject to cluster laws,” he said.

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“What the actual fuck?” said Grace. “You’re treating this as a black site?”

Chase was actually taken aback by this. “No, it’s not like that. I won’t have you thrown out of an airlock for not obeying,” he replied. She had him completely wrongfooted.

Grace smirked at him, now it was her turn to take amusement at his discomfort.

“Dude, if you’re trying to interrogate me, this is not the way to get me to cooperate. You really want to make me think I’m about to die, and I’ll totally tell you everything. Honest,” she said.

If this was her sense of humour, he didn’t get it.

“Miss Dakota, I assure you that’s not my intention...”

“But really, I’m going to need my lawyer,” she repeated.

They were going round in circles.

“Even if we could get one out here, it would take what? Four to six weeks,” said Chase, “and they would advise you exactly what I’m going to advise you, that you are in interstellar space with no claim to anything you have found aboard this vessel, which is the property of United Earth, and no approved rights of salvage,” said Chase, putting the slate down on the guard’s table and taking a sip of coffee. “Grace, what would you like to do?” he asked.

She didn’t reply to him immediately. In a change from her confrontational attitude,

He allowed her a moment to think about it.

“I don’t think any longer than a week is unreasonable,” she finally said.

“Not with usual shipping, no,” Chase agreed. “Obviously, with things as they are, though,” he said, letting the thought hang. She didn’t appear to follow.

“Because of the attack on Hemera, a lot of ships have been grounded,” said Chase, confused.

“I’ve been in an escape pod for the last two weeks,” replied Grace. “What are you talking about?” She’d dropped her poker face.

“I was there. We don’t know where the attack came from. It was a long-range missile strike, from out of the system,” said Chase.

“How bad was it?” she asked. Chase was pained by the question. “Anything beyond a small precision strike and a colony like that would probably not have had very much left over at all,” she said, making connections. “That piece you found me with, I took it from the engine array,” she added. She held her hands up, palm flat, making a point of how honest she was being. It snapped Chase out of his thoughts.

“You really should have consulted a lawyer before talking to me,” Chase said.

“You’re hilarious. Yeah, you’re not wrong. But from the look of you, if what you say is true, you’re going to need ‘Ol Grace Dakota’s help,” she grinned.

“Why would you help us?” he asked. He expected her to look away or at least blink, but she held his gaze. She took half a step back towards the cell wall, however, and looked sheepish.

Grace hesitated before saying, “I’m not sure how to put this, but here it is, straight up. Lieutenant Commander Chase, I have witnessed what you’re up against. I’ve seen the monsters that destroyed Hemera, and I know what they’re capable of. And I know we cannot, under any circumstances, let them gain a foothold in the Cluster.” Her eyes dropped away as she finished.

Chase stared at her as he attempted to make sense of what she was implying. She hadn’t even been aware of the attack until he told her, and she couldn’t have seen anyone when they hadn’t even established who they were, could she?

“What does that mean?” he asked.

Grace walked from one end of the cell to the other, throwing her hands up.

“This is going to sound nuts,” she said. “I found the Trafalgar because I have been searching for a ship with a jump drive. I thought I’d found one,” she said.

“The Nomadic?” Chase suggested. “Yeah, we went there too.”

“I’d got a lead on its location, and I’d seen how many people were keen to spend a hell of a lot of money for a Graviton accelerator. I mean way more than whatever the Navy is paying you, and I don’t mean annually. In your entire career,” she said, gesturing at him with her hands frantically. “Now if I could have found one of those, I would have been set for several lifetimes and I did, but then you showed up…” she said, as she sat down on the metal slab designed to act as a bed.

Chase said, “Miss Dakota, I understand why you might not have been pleased to see us, which is why I’m surprised by your willingness to help.”

Grace sighed and sat on the end of the bed. She threw her legs up, and her boots onto the bed, making the metal shelf clang.

“I don’t suppose anyone here has anything to wear that isn’t an environmental suit?” she asked, changing the subject. “These things aren’t comfortable at the best of times, and I’ve been in this one for the best part of a month now.”

“The cells got pretty good heating; you could just take it off,” Chase suggested dryly. He was not happy with the direction the interrogation had taken.

“Whilst I’m sure you jarheads would enjoy that, I’m hardly feeling overly safe as it is. The last thing I want is any of your men getting any ideas.”

He rolled his eyes.

“You were telling me how it was you claim to know the attackers of Hemera,” said Chase.

“So I was,” she agreed, her antagonism diffused for the moment. “I was on board the Nomadic, the wreck of the Nomadic, with my boyfriend… business partner, former business partner. You say you’ve been there. It’s certainly a unique holiday destination. I hope you sent a postcard,” she said.

Chase was trying to follow her line of thinking, but wasn’t sure if she was being intentionally misleading or if something more was going on.

“It was then I picked up a distress call from the Trafalgar. It was that signal that led Nomadic off course. So I found the one escape pod onboard that still worked, and I programmed it to come here instead of the nearest inhabited system. I didn’t have an easy time of it, living off ration packs. Have you got any food, by the way? I’ve not had a solid meal in over two weeks,” said Grace.

“We detected your pod, that’s what lead us to Trafalgar, and we’ll take you to the mess as soon as we’re back on board Mary Rose,” said Chase, looking over his slate to make sure his notes were straight. “So you’re in the escape pod, and you arrived in this system?” Chase prompted.

Grace sat up, her back against the bulkhead once more. She stared Chase straight in the eyes. “I’d entered the system; it seemed as if there was another ship here. Not you guys, nor Trafalgar. The next thing I know, the pod’s locked onto the closest planet and is looking to set down.”

Chase checked his slate. Taking notes.

“It’s an arid desert world with no habitability. There’s no reason the pod would have done that. It didn’t set down, or you would never have made it here.” He was pacing. “It would be quite difficult for you to even signal us,” he added.

“Exactly,” Grace agreed, “but I know this sounds nuts. You’re probably gonna walk out the door and have me moved to the closest thing you’ve got to an insane asylum, and, while I fully understand, I’d really appreciate a quick sandwich first.”

Chase let the slate down and clipped it into his belt as it folded up. Whatever she was building to, he had fewer hopes than he had thirty seconds ago that she could help them.

“I somewhat know the history of that planet,” said Grace, standing up, now pacing back and forth in the cell. “Not just know it, I was there. I was one of them; they were fighting...”