Chapter 1

“The whole secret lies in confusing the enemy, so that he cannot fathom our real intent.” -  Sun Tzu, the Art of War

A year and a half later…

 

The blue, purple and green hues of the warp tunnel streamed lazily through the porthole window in front of him. Finnegan lay in bed, music paying in his ears as he tried to let his mind go, grappling with his thoughts. He was on the SS Javelin, a civilian transport ship that was en-route to Mars from the outer reaches. They had been in-transport for weeks, travelling from slip gate to slip gate on their route back to Sol.

Finn grunted. ‘Man, I hate having to fly on other’s wings,’ he thought to himself. ‘It’s been way too long since I’ve been behind the stick’. Dapper twitched and snorted in sleep on the other side of the room, his bulky frame dwarfing the small couch his was draped across. The amenities weren’t great, but it’s what they had become used to transporting from job to job. ‘Almost there... A few more jobs and finally we will have enough to get a ship of our own.’

He drifted.

Finnegan ran down the hallway after General Cain, his lungs aching from the exertion. There had been a huge crowd after the command meeting, and it had taken him too long. Something didn’t feel right, and he needed Cain to be straight with him. Round a bend, he could see the general stepping through bulwark doors into an elevator. Without looking back, he placed two fingers on the doorway holding it open.

Finnegan came to an abrupt halt inside the elevator car, bent over and breathing heavily. As he gathered his breath, he became more aware of General Cain standing beside him, his back to the wall of the car and looking intently at Finnegan. ‘What in the bright suns of Andemia do you think you’re doing Chief Warrant Officer, questioning me like that? In public?!’ General Cain exclaimed. ‘You are a pilot, a ranking officer to boot, but without the grasp to go further. You question commanding officers in public on strategy and tactics without offering anything useful in return.’

Cain took a deep steadying breath and shook his head. ‘Why are you here?’ he asked.

Finnegan stared, dumbfounded. He -.

A loud knock at the door shook him from his reverie. ‘Who is it?’ he called out, tapping a finger against an ear to mute his music.

Dapper snorted himself awake, stretching his tree trunk body awkwardly on the small couch. ‘Eh? What was that Chief?’ he mumbled as he wiped sleep from his eyes. His ears twitched alive as he fully awoke, hearing shuffling footsteps from beyond the closed door.

‘Morning service is ready’ a voice could be barely heard through the door. It was the First Mate, Yeng. You could tell by the typical Troidactin drawl he had. ‘See you in the Mess.’

‘Ahh... breakfast time. It sure is nice having more than one meal a day again,’ snickered Dapper as he finished his stretching routine and threw a shirt on. ‘Where’s head again? I need to piss.’

Yawning, Finnegan nodded his head to the left. ‘That way. Give me a few to get cleaned up and I’ll join you,’ he said distractedly. ‘Just, save something for me this time, ok?

‘Not if you take forever, Chief!’ Dapper called over his shoulder as he opened the door and stepped through.

Finnegan sat back against the porthole wall again, thoughts and memories swirling at the edges of his consciousness.

-closed his mouth and swallowed the words he had been about to say. ‘My apologies, Sir’ he said through gritted teeth. ‘Respectfully, this mission sounds like horseshit. None of the tactics make sense and our objective seems too simple to send a ship of this caliber out into space without a suitable escort.’

Cain shook his head again, slouching his shoulders and leaned back against the elevator wall. ‘I know. I also know that I don’t have to explain myself to you as my subordinate; yet as my son-in-law, I will tell you to keep your wits about you. It’s going to be a rough one.’

A ding sounded and the elevator came to a stop, its door opening. Cain stepped through and looked back at Finnegan, fondness softening his eyes. ‘Be smart,’ he said, giving Finnegan a crisp salute. ‘Good luck out there. Stay alive.’

‘You as-‘ and the door snapped closed in front of him ‘well…’ he finished, not quite understanding what had just happened.

Finnegan’s hand clenched into a fist as it shot out at the porthole window beside him, having no effect outside of roughing the skin on his knuckles. He didn’t care. ‘Pain is weakness leaving the body,’ he told himself, trying to center himself and calm down.

Reaching over to the bedside table, he opened the top drawer and withdrew a fold of papers. He sat up, cross legged and placed papers around him on the bed. The paperwork detailed series of attacks, odd occurrences and suspicious deaths that had occurred in the past year that seemed to have no reasonable explanation as to how they happened. ‘You’re in here somewhere,’ Finn muttered to himself. ‘Everyone else is.’

His gazed swept over the information displayed before him, taking it in as he did every morning. He knew there was something he was missing that would help him understand things, but he didn’t know what it was, and that chafed him. Frustration burgeoned within him.

‘Fuck. Maybe once we are back to Mars something will have come up,’ he thought to himself.

Finnegan sighed audibly. Deep breaths calmed him back down as he used an old pilot trick to center his mind. Tapping a finger against his ear, music started playing in his ears again. Packing the papers back together, he placed them back in the drawer. He had to believe that eventually it would all make sense.

 Getting up from the bed, Finn grabbed clean clothes from another drawer and changed. Like Dapper from minutes ago, he unlimbered and stretched as he went, making his way over to the sink in the corner of the room. He ran his hands under water before rubbing his eyes and face clean. He looked up at himself, running a hand through his hair. ‘God you’re a mess,’ he said to himself. ‘Yeah, fuck you too…’

*

The muted voices of fellow passengers filled the room, creating a constant murmuring noise that rose above the hum of the engines as Dapper and Finnegan sat in the Mess, eating breakfast. Dozens of tables filled the mess, many of them full of people from all over the galaxy. An oval serving counter dominated the middle of the room, with mechanized servers taking and delivering orders.

‘Hey, look! I haven’t seen a Gorgund in a long time, okay? They’re weird looking and I don’t like them,’ stated Dapper firmly, looking pointedly across the room. ‘They don’t even breath AIR! Org’thanon does not approve!’

Finnegan sighed and followed his gaze to the table of Gorgund on the other side of the room. This had become a daily argument over the past few weeks. Dapper wanted to sacrifice the Gorgund in some obscure ritual to some goblinoid God that Finnegan just didn’t understand. ‘Not to mention get us put in the brig. Again,’ thought Finnegan.

‘Dapper, I told you. You are not allowed to sacrifice them. Nor can you beat them or harass them. I don’t care if your god doesn’t like them!’ he snapped. It was like puppy training some days. ‘Just ignore them and let it go. They haven’t done anything to deserve sacrificing. In fact, I think they gave you cookies last week, so get off it.’

The group of Gorgund stared back at them, the chitinous sections of their carapace shaping their body and creating a sort of integral armor. They were bipedal humanoids, with human like face, but that’s where the similarities ended. Their lipless mouths secreted a purplish liquid through overly large canine like teeth that formed a neat row under the ridged carapace of their cheekbones that seemed to display differently on each Gorgund. Gill like ears stuck out from either side of their head, above the cheekbone, and their skin was predominantly a pinkish red color, with dark spots throughout the fleshy spots of their body. A voice converter was pinched into the skin of their neck, allowing them to communicate properly with others in the galaxy.

Dapper shook himself and made a noise. ‘They give me the willies!’ he protested.

‘NO!’ said Finnegan firmly. His eyes scanned the room, cataloguing the passengers. Most were either pilgrims or refugees heading to Mars in hopes of a better life. Mars had become the beacon of hope for all of humanity over the last several hundred years, housing more than a billion civilians in its neon lit cityscape with countless more in orbiting space stations that dotted the sky.

‘I don’t care,’ muttered Finnegan, playing with the food on his plate. Replicator technology had come a long way in making food from nothing, but it still wasn’t fresh. ‘I’d rather eat military rations again than eat this garbage,’ he thought to himself.

‘Okay, okay…’ Dapper said, holding his hands up in surrender. ‘I give!’

Sensing his friend’s mood, Dapper surveyed the crowd, pointedly trying to ignore the Gorgund. He was bored and needed something to occupy his attention. Many of the passengers had been with them for weeks, but as passengers reached their destination and got off, new passengers came on board. Those new passengers were always an enigma at first. Part of the game that he and Finn had made was to guess who they were and where they were going. He chuckled, knowing that things didn’t always go to plan.

The bridge bulwark doors opened and the ship’s Captain, Adamo, walked through escorting a Lionel dressed in expensive clothing, the opulent layers and fists full of rings marking him as an odd passenger for The Javelin to have on board. Dapper caught Finnegan’s attention and motioned with his chin. ‘Take a look Chief.’

Finnegan turned and looked. The First Mate and Chief  Medical Officer trailed a short distance behind Captain Adamo and his guest, followed by what looked like bodyguards. He whistled under his breath. ‘What have we here?’ he said quietly. The Lionel clearly had the money to spend on better accommodations.

A voice crept into his head, unbidden. ‘Emir Fahmy,’ it whispered. Finnegan started, shocked.

‘What the fuck was that?’ Finnegan said.

Dapper, his eyes focused on the curvaceous form of the medical officer, ignored him. ‘Dapper, did you say something?’ Finnegan asked, looking intently at Dapper.

Dapper gazed seconds longer, before looking over at Finnegan with a perplexed look on his face. ‘I didn’t say anything, Chief…’ he said. ‘Are you feeling, Okay? … You do look a bit pale. I … uh, can go get the Chief Medical officer?’

Goosebumps spread over Finnegan's body. ‘That was weird,’ he thought to himself.

‘No, it’s okay… ‘ he trailed off. ‘I thought I heard something, like right in front of me. Maybe I’m just tired.’

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‘Chief, its 0900. How can you be tired?’ Dapper asked, grinning. ‘C’mon! Wake up, boss. We only have a few more hours until the next slip gate, which will take us one jump closer to Mars! There’s no time to be tired!’

Finnegan shook his head briefly, his eyes still scanning the crowd. ‘I know I heard that. I know I’m crazy, but I’m not making this shit up,’ he thought to himself. ‘Hello? Who the fuck’s there in my head with me?’

‘Hello, Finnegan Pearce,’ spoke the same monotone voice. ‘Emir Fahmy. A life given for a life spared.’

Finnegans eyes almost fell out of his face in shock. Dapper looked at him concernedly. He opened his mouth to speak, but Finnegan reached forwards and pressed a hand over his mouth, shutting him up. ‘Shh!’ was Finnegans only response. He scanned the crowd intently, not knowing what he was looking for, but knowing he would understand when he saw it.

Minutes passed with nothing standing out. His eyes flickered back and forth, finally settling on the still form of one of the Gorgund in the group Dapper was fanatical about. He laid back, his face expressionless, but his eyes were locked onto Finnegans. He gave a slight nod of his head. ‘One more piece of the puzzle,’ the thought came unbidden again into his mind.

A serving bot stopped its cart in front of the pairs table, blocking their vision of the room behind. ‘Can I get you travelers some refreshments? How about a fresh bottle of lime water? Packaged right in the moon seas of Trimble V,’ the bot said. ‘Or how about fresh coffee from the Najora sector? Some of the best in the galaxy you know!’

Finnegan waived the bot away, looking behind to where the Gorgund sitting. He was gone. ‘What the fuck…’

‘Dapper, I need something stronger than water. This day isn’t going to get any better on its own,’ he said and raised his hand to the serving bot to get its attention.

Dapper turned his attention back to the Chief Medical Officer. She was tall for a human, with long raven black hair showering her back against a navy blue ship uniform. Her hawk like features, pinched nose and full lips filled her face, broken only by a bright smile full of immaculate teeth. Patches denoting her as a combat medic ordained her shoulders, alongside two crisp golden chevrons. ‘What’s an ass like that doing in a place like this,’ quipped Dapper, his eyes glued firmly on her backside.

Sensing attention from the other side of the room, the Lionel raised his head mid conversation and glanced in their direction. The Lionel’s gaze swept over them twice before snapping back on to Dapper. Finnegan’s back started to sweat as he stared back. ‘Emir Fahmy,’ the words repeated in his head.

The golden haired creature finished speaking, settling back in his seat. There was a small hand motion and a bodyguard stepped in close beside him. Without taking his gaze off Dapper, orders were issued, and the bodyguard stepped away through the crowd.

‘Dapper, I think we have a problem,’ Finnegan said with concern, trying to track where the bodyguard had gone. ‘Have you run wrongly across any Lionel’s in the past? Tried to woo one of their princesses or something? This guy seems far too interested in us for my liking.’

‘Uhm, well... there was one a few years ago. I got deployed and never saw her again. No way its related. Besides, I’ve got a different target in mind,’ he said, smiling enthusiastically.

‘Dapper, I don’t think you understand,’ Finnegan managed to get out before one of the Lionel’s bodyguards stepped in front of their table, moving Finnegan to silence.

‘Good morning, Gentlemen. My liege, Lord Emir Fahmy, would like to make your acquaintance,’ the guard stated formally. Stepping back, he gestured with an outstretched arm to the table on the opposite side of the room where the Lionel now sat alone. ‘After you.’

Finnegan and Dapper looked at each other, attempting to read each other’s mind, trying to puzzle out how best to react. ‘Do I say no thank you? Maybe next time?’ he thought to himself. ‘I don’t see that we have a lot of choice here. I don’t even know what this guy wants.’

Dapper stepped up from his seat at their table, his seven foot tall frame towering menacingly over the guard and growled. The room became noticeably silent, the guard taking a shaky step backwards before steeling his resolve. ‘My Lord has asked nicely and does not wish you harm,’ the guard said, his voice steadying. ‘Hospitality will not last forever, however.’

Finnegan raised his left hand, palm up in a half-assed gesture of surrender. ‘Okay man, chill. Sure, let’s go talk to your boss who we don’t know. Shit.’ He looked sideways at Dapper. ‘Calm down or you’ll get us killed. Seriously, who did you fuck this time?’ he asked, bewildered.

Dapper shrugged helplessly, at a loss of words for who this Lionel might be or what he would want with them. ‘If they play nice, I’ll play nice,’ he grunted as he stepped past the guard, looking him straight in the eyes as he went. ‘Nobody needs to lose their chill; we’re just going to have a nice chat, right?’

The bodyguard’s return smile turned awry when his body began to float, as did everything else in the room as the ships artificial gravity ceased to exist. The room went dark, and people screamed in fear. Suddenly the glaring light of backup lights lit the room, casting awkward shadows on the walls. Seconds later, backup systems came online, and a chime sounded over the comm system. ‘This is Captain Adamo. We have lost warp capability and have suffered heavy damage. We are currently on a crash descent to a nearby planet. Prepare to abandon ship.’

Lights flashed on and off as systems began to fail, losing power from the strain of keeping the ship together. Panicked screams filled the mess as people tried to move through zero-g towards the escape pods at the rear of the ship. There was a deafening crack and the ship jerked sideways, floating passengers hit like baseballs from a bat as they impacted the inner wall of the Mess cabin before being thrown into the far wall with crushing force.

The loud clang of the bulwark reinforcements slamming into place echoed into the quietness of the room. ‘So much for that idea,’ Finnegan thought to himself. ‘Escape pods were back there. Fuck.’

As the ship steadied under the control of the crew in the cockpit, a glow could be seen through the porthole windows that dotted the mess on both sides. They had fallen into a nebulae, its reddish yellow hues streaking through the mess, lighting the darkness with its majestic glow. The light suffused everything it touched with a vibrant energy, sending senses alive, hairs standing on end and leaving a flushed euphoric state in their mind.

Finnegan's body felt like it was bursting at its seams, expanding, and growing by the second. His body got hotter and hotter, sweat pouring down it as he grabbed at the walls trying to make his way to an ejection pod that wasn’t there. A pressure could be felt against his body and his brain seemed to melt, hallucinations playing before him enrapturing him with their lies and deceit of safety.

Dapper twisted in midair beside him, his body contorting as he screamed in pain. He clawed at his skin, trying to scrape it off his body with his nails. It burned, bubbled, and peeled off in strips before him. He opened his mouth to scream again, but all that came out was an agonizing gasp, pain overtaking him as everything went black.

From somewhere in the periphery of their minds, a patchy voice could be heard over the comms. ‘Prepare for crash landing!’

* *

^{Stardate 182, Year 2542}

The holo images disappeared as the playback stopped, the courtroom quiet and dim.

‘Court documents and video footage show Cpt. Pearce navigating through a mountainous range at a high rate of speed, testing a new stealth orbital fighter’s handling capabilities. This flight path was well within the Captains ability to navigate, as well as that of the ships,’ explained JAG Officer Lt. Marty Simmons, his hands splayed out in front of him as he spoke as he spoke the facts.

‘Halfway through the flight, when navigating a sharp switchback at a modest speed of Mach 6, Cpt. Pearce experienced a mechanical malfunction that threw his ship into an uncontrollable descent where he crashed against a canyon wall, dead  on impact,’ Simmons stated quietly. ‘I ask the panel; How do you find the accused?’

Silence stretched throughout the room as the Judges deliberated quietly amongst each other before turning back to the bench. ‘In the matter of the death of one Captain Elliot James Pearce, The Terran Forces High Command finds the defendant, Commander Ulysses Cain, not guilty,’ came the verdict, spoken in an emotionless voice as several judges shifted uncomfortably in their chairs.

Finnegan gaped from the bench where he sat with his mother, trembling at the furor of emotions that ran through his body. Her face was white as she looked back and forth from Cain and Finnegan, but he was too focused on Cain’s smiling face to see it as the gallery rang with applause.

‘Order!’ commanded a different judge from the panel, banging a gavel against the bench. ‘Order!’

‘While there is sufficient evidence to state that Cpt. Pearce’s ship was tampered with, there is not sufficient evidence to prove that Com. Cain is guilty of committing a crime. He is cleared of any wrongdoings and is reinstated to active duty immediately’ came the same emotionless tone from the judge. ‘This will continue to be investigated as a training incident until further investigation proves otherwise. You are dismissed.’

‘SOMEONE KILLED MY FATHER!’ screamed a distraught Finnegan.

‘ORDER, Cadet  Pearce! We all understand your upset, we are upset at the loss of your father, but you will respect the rule of law and this court!’ Judge Moses Grant said, his voice stern. ‘At this point, we don’t know why your father died, but it is the Terran High Command’s commitment to justice that we will find out, one day.’

Now, restrain yourself or I will have you removed from this courtroom,’ Judge Grant said, holding a finger up in warning.

‘Justice? You call this Justice? A man is dead… MY FATHER IS DEAD, and you placate me with false promises!’ Finnegan yelled.

‘Finnegan! … Finnegan, come, calm,’ his mother said softly beside him, tears running down her face as she tried to wrap her arms around.

‘No, I won’t calm down! This is bullshit!’ he started.

‘Enough!’ another judge yelled, banging his gavel as he motioned at Finnegan. ‘Officers of the Court, arrest this man for contempt and throw him in a cell.’

Armed officers rushed over to Finnegan, grabbing him by his arms as they dragged him from the gallery and down the aisle. ‘I WANT JUSTICE!’ Finnegan screamed, angry tears pouring down his face, wetting the face of his uniform.

 

 

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