Rating - Ummm... some parts are steamier, but mostly PG.
Feedback - Naturally.
Notes - Thanks as always to Lelak and to Rocfankat for casting their eyes over this at some point or other.
Element
Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 |
"Cooper, what do you mean, where's the ship?" Remm looked over wearily at the comm, rubbing the bridge of her nose with her fingers. It was only mid-afternoon and she was already feeling the strin of hours of reading. Maybe medical was right, she should get her eyes checked again.
"The ship you and Carter brought in. Where is it?"
"The docking bay, where I left it."
She heard Cooper shuffling some notes. "I thought you were gonna say that. Someone has shifted it without filing a 403. I was hoping you knew about it."
"Check with Salvage." Remm suggested. "Probably scrapped for all we know. It was a pretty useless hunk of metal when it was good to fly, Coop. In that kind of condition it would have been scrap metal." She looked down again at her notepad. "It's not easy moving an entire ship without someone on the crew noticing. Have you checked around?"
"I've had every crewman on this dock in my office one by one for past two hours. No one saw a thing."
That was odd. Remm's forehead creased. "Which divisions on the station have the manpower to pull off that sort of thing?"
"Well, Salvage of course, like you said. But according to their files they don't have it. Maintenance could maybe do it with one of their loaders?"
Curiousity peaked, Remm went to the station display and punched in her ID code. "Computer, display a map of the immediate environs surrounding Docking Bay 8. Including external."
The computer ticked over obligingly, finally giving her a heads up display of the appropriate 3D map. She traced her finger along various corridors. All of them were too small to move a ship through, especially one that had obviously been taken out still assembled.
"Coop, you still there?"
"Still here, Major. What have you got?"
"Not much. It had to have been re-launched from the docking bay, then maybe tugged away from the station, or deposited down near the refitting station. Which would make sense, if they were planning to repair her."
"Beats me why anyone would repair that." He said, flipping through even more paper. "OK, I'll check with maintenance, see what they've got. I hate it when people decide to skip the paperwork. If things go missing it's my ass on the line."
"Well, I'm sure whoever is responsible will enjoy a lesson in filling out forms. Send them to me when you find them, I'd be glad to provide some appropriate reminders on proper procedure." She grinned.
"I just bet you would Major. Remind me never to get you mad at me. Cooper out."
She bent her head down as soon as the comm flickered off, intending to get back to her paperwork, but Cooper's voice still rang in her ears, and something didn't seem right.
She could understand them moving the ship, it was damaged and need to go to the appropriate place for either repair or scrap. It was also taking up valuable space in the docking bays. But what the clandestine removal? Unless someone in Coop's team was lying to him.
In the military there were only two reasons for lying when asked a direct question by your CO. Either you were corrupt, which meant instant dismissal if you were caught, or you were under orders, from an officer ranked even higher than the one asking you the questions, to keep your mouth shut.
A voice echoed in her head.
"You did not do a complete reconaissance of that ship? The crew quarters? The cargo holds?"
She hit the comm again.
"Cooper here."
"Coop, it's Talis. Did you do a sweep of the ship that we brought in? Cargo holds, crew quarters?"
"Yes, sir. The standard search - we didn't have time for anything else."
"Find anything unusual?"
"Nothing, sir."
"Nothing unusual?"
"No, I mean we found nothing. Literally. Zip. The cargo holds were completely empty. Those guys you rescued were flying a cold ship. There were some clothes and toiletries in the compartments, all personal stuff, but nothing else."
"Any signs of break-ins? Could their cargo have been stolen after they were hit?"
"No signs that there was ever cargo in there Major, let alone taken out. They didn't dump anything in space either. That was my next thought."
"All right Coop. I'll take it from here. Don't do any more poking around on this until I get back to you. I'll talk to the Captain."
"Fine by me, sir."
"Remm out."
****
After ten minutes of assuring the Captain's secretary that it was indeed an urgent matter, Talis was granted an audience. She strode into the room and snapped to attention, awaiting permission to speak.
The Captain was concentrating intently, writing something in long hand on a crsip, white notepad. She didn't think she knew anyone who wrote on paper any more.
"What's on your mind, Major?" He asked, finally.
"Sir. The ship that we brought in - do you know where they've taken it?"
"I didn't realise that tracking salvage operations came under your area of command." He said, without lifting his head.
"A ship disappeared without a trail, paper or human, sir. It just seemed odd to me." She replied, more harshly than she intended. Her tone earned her a glare from the Captain and she immediately adjusted her voice. "What I mean, sir, is that Sergeant Cooper found it confusing enough to push the matter up to me. He's concerned that no 403 was filed for the removal of the ship."
"Are you looking for a transfer to Salvage, Major? Because that can be arranged if that kind of work interests you."
"No, sir."
"Was there anything else you needed?" It was a dismissal.
She bit her tongue to prevent the obvious comment, but you never answered the question, from slipping out. "No, sir."
"Very well, I'll make sure someone investigates your concerns. I'm sure you have better things to do. Dismissed, Major."
"Thank you, sir."
He put his head back down and didn't say another word. Remm removed herself from the office, closing the door softly behind her.
****
The man who answered the phone sounded weak, his voice barely registering on the scratchy old-style communications line.
"Hello?"
"Hello. This is Ensign Mackenzie Carter of Gallus security station 3. I was wondering if I could speak to Lieutenant Robert Yossef."
"Speaking. What can I do for you?"
"I was wondering if I could come and see you, sir, see how you're doing." She tried to make her voice sound as light as possible. "I was one of the pilots who pulled you out."
The line went quiet for a moment. "Are you sure you're allowed to speak to me?"
She hesitated. "Sir?"
"Wasn't all material regarding that incident marked confidential?" His obvious attempt to keep the bitterness from his voice failed miserably.
"I wasn't aware that mission confidentiality stretched to paying a social call on a fellow officer, sir." She bristled. "I wasn't intending to discuss the mission, just see how you were healing."
There was another brief silence. "I don't think that's a good idea. For your own sake, ensign." The voice was sounding less angry now. The bitterness was gone too, replaced by a deep weariness.
"For my own sake, sir?" She repeated.
"You don't have to call me sir, I'm no longer on active duty."
Oh. "Medical discharge?"
"Not exactly. Listen, I appreciate the call ensign, and the rescue, believe me I do. I like being alive, it suits me. Now just isn't a very good time."
"I understand, sir… I mean Mr Yossef."
"Thank you for the call."
"Thank you, sir."
He hung up. Mackenzie stared at the receiver for long moments, trying to make some sense out of the brief, confusing conversation. She slowly hung up the phone.
"Sounds like you got about as far as I did." A voice cut into her thoughts. Carter turned slowly, already knowing who'd she'd find standing there.
She gave Major Remm a quick salute. "I don't know what you mean, Sir." She noticed that she seemed to be saying that a lot lately.
"Yossef." She nodded towards the pay phone. "Did he say anything to you? Besides telling you to mind your own business that is?"
"Not much." Carter admitted.
"Me either." Remm looked both ways down the corridor, eyes paranoid, suddenly nervous. She grabbed Carter's sleeve and pulled her into a nearby briefing room, closing the door firmly behind them. She pushed the button to indicate the room was occupied. "Are you crazy? You shouldn't be making calls like that from a public phone!"
"Better than a private line." Carter returned. "The hospital wouldn't tell me anything about him, only that they'd let him go home." She raised an eyebrow. "Besides, just like I told him, I didn't want to discuss the mission, I just wanted to find out if he was OK. What is this all about?"
"You didn't call to find out why he was taken off active duty?" Remm stared at her, suspiciously.
"I didn't know he was until just now. What gives?"
"I don't know. And I couldn't tell you if I did."
Carter frowned. "So why did you drag me in here?"
"To give you a piece of advice." Talis indicated a nearby chair and Mackenzie sat. "You're being watched. So am I. You don't want to be doing anything that gives anyone the wrong idea."
"Watched? Why?"
Talis glared. "Are you really that naïve, or do you honestly not know?"
Carter fixed her superior officer with a steel-edged glare. "I'm just an ensign. I don't know a goddamned thing."
Remm hesitated, then nodded. "Probably better that way."
"Except…" Carter began.
"Yes?"
"Except I have a few questions."
"Such as?"
"Why was an ordinary mission report classified top secret? And why weren't we even allowed to visit the guy we saved? And now I find out he's been dumped by the service. I bet he's not even injured anymore."
"Is that all?" Talis asked.
"I could do with an explanation as to why my external private line has little popping noises on it. I'm pretty sure that spying on private communications wasn't in the brochure when I signed up."
"Security has been tightened the past few weeks. After the fire fight everyone with previous Trader connections is being monitored."
Carter's face fell just a little. "I wasn't aware that personnel files were public knowledge."
"Only to people who need to know. I'm the head of tactical flight training, you didn't think I would read your file eventually?"
"I suppose so, Sir." Carter resumed military formalty, suddenly uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was heading.
"I'm not out to get you, Ensign." Remm soothed. "Quite the opposite actually."
"So what exactly is it about me that bothers you, Sir?"
Remm shook her head. "Not me. Them. It seemed a bit coincidental to the powers that be that someone with your history should be one of two pilots involved in the only direct conflict we've had with the Traders in the past six months."
"I was assigned to that detail at the last minute. You know that. I didn't even know where we were going."
Remm's face was grim. "Neither did I. That's what bothers me."
"Who did know?"
"Are you willing to put your career on the line to get answers to your questions?"
Carter thought for a moment and then leaned back, trying unsuccessfully to squirm out from under Remm's insistent gaze. "No. I don't think so."
Caution snapped behind Remm's eyes. She looked dazed, like a concussed patient shaking off a dizzy spell. "Well, then there's no point in continuing this conversation. Have a good day, Ensign." Talis rose to her feet, heading quickly for the door.
"Major?"
"Yes, Ensign?"
"For what it's worth, I don't think it's worth ruining your career over either. Sir."
Remm's eyes hardened. "Thank you for your perspective. Now, I'd appreciate it if you forgot this conversation ever happened."
She left the room.
"Yeah." Carter said to the empty room. "I'm getting used to those kinds of conversations."
****
Talis shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts and gather her wits. For one desperate moment she'd almost blurted out all her suspicions to an ensign. Decisions like that could cost them both their careers.
Talking about what she thought she knew was going on would cost careers, not just theirs, but ones higher up the chain of command as well. And she didn't know enough to do that, not yet. Maybe not ever.
She turned a corner and stopped, breathless. The wall provided a solid point to lean against, steadying her for a few precious moments.
Shaken, she stayed still, letting the coolness of the concrete wall seep through the thin cotton of her t-shirt. She looked down. She'd been on her way to the gym, her sweatpants and regulation white t-shirt were evidence to the fact. Hopefully exercise would clear her mind, help her organise the minefield of dangerous thoughts and suppositions.
The halls were unusually quiet for that time of day. She had a brief recollection of some kind of sporting event - hoverball maybe? Something that had sparked enthusiasm from among the enlisted personnel all week. Everyone was probably crowded into the makeshift stadium in cargo bay four. The entire bay was designed so that it could be converted into an entertainment arena when it was empty. They could fit hundreds of spectators in there on temporary grandstands. It had been the bright idea from some enterprising supplies Corporal a few years back who had gone on to make Master Chief in record time.
Right now all she knew was that she was glad of the privacy. When she reached the gym she found it practically empty. She bypassed the machines and freeweights and went straight for the boxing ring. An instructor was always on hand to give willing pugilist students any pointers. She knew from experience that they also set a draining cardio routine for those who used boxing simply as a means for staying fit. But today she wanted to hit something. Preferably the Captain's head. Unfortunately the boxing pads would have to do for now.
****
She wasn't sure how she'd managed to pull the swing-shift, but Carter found herself out on patrol again just six hours after her previous shift had ended. After four hours of cruising the perimeter of the station defenses she was more than ready to dock, get clean, and get sleeping.
"This is zero-four-niner requesting permission to land." Mackenzie chanted into her comm, preparing the landing gear for entry into the docking bay.
A buzz from air control interrupted the steady pattern of what had otherwise been an incident-free shift. "Negative zero-four-niner, all docking bays are currently occupied. Assume holding pattern and we'll inform you of your docking time and destination."
"Excuse me?" She said to thin air, air control having already terminated their connection. She pulled the transit logs up and inspected the latest docking schedules. There was no one due at the main dock for another thirty minutes.
She re-established the comm link. "Please say again air control. You want me to assume a holding pattern?"
The comm crackled. "That's affirmative zero-four-niner. Some unexpected traffic has come through this sector. Stand by, and keep this channel clear." The comm flicked off again.
In other words, just shut up and do what you're told, Carter thought. She set in an orbital course around the station and flicked the craft to auto-pilot, stretching her seat back and kicking out her long legs. Like all pilots she'd ever met she loved flying above all else, but the military planes had somewhat less leg-room in the pilot's seat than the civilian transports she'd been flying for five years. She couldn't imagine what some of the guys who were inches taller than her went through with the hours they spent in the cockpit.
She switched on the military newsfeed for entertainment. The audio channel echoed through her headset.
"..foreign dignitaries landed on Gallus station three to be met by Grand Admiral Tucker. This first contact situation is unprecedented in the history of a military outpost and is expected to throw training schedules into disarray for days as the station assumes the new security protocols demanded by the off-world visitors. In other news…"
Well, Carter sighed, that'd explain the docking schedules.
"Computer - find a visual newsfeed." She ordered the on-board system.
Her viewscreen flickered then blared to life, as cameras followed the alien visitors along the main concourse of Gallus 3. The aliens were short, their skin a light shade of blue. Each of them was clad in identical robes that seemed at first to be the same blue as their skin. After a few seconds of staring Mackenzie realised that the clothes were almost translucent.
The Admiral walked beside them, resplendent in full-dress uniform she noted wryly. If the visit was so surpising, how'd the Admiral find time to hang on all those damned medals?
She watched curiously as the trail of miltary officers wound after the lead bunch, and checked off each officer she knew as they passed. Some wore the same official dress as the admiral, though with noticeably fewer decorations. Towards the end of the procession she recognised Talis Remm, one of the security commanders still in standard uniform, directing a troop of armed guards around the fringes of the group of dignitaries. The Major looked calm, assured, in control; a far cry from the confusion she'd displayed in the meeting room. The news camera followed Remm some distance, explaining that she and two other officers Mackenzie had met only briefly had been placed in charge of station security during the extent of the aliens' visit. That certainly sounded like a career booster, she thought, providing the so-called dignataries didn't get shot at.
Another twenty minutes passed before her comm crackled to life. She switched off the newsfeed. "Zero-four-niner, you are clear to land in cargo bay 12. Please proceed directly to dock."
Cargo bay? For a fighter plane?
She didn't argue, just confirmed the order and changed course, directing the nose of the plane carefully into the dock, surrounded by merchant and military cargo ships, some twenty times her size or more. The obstacle course to dock the fighter became even more dangerous as she avoided civilian personnel floating around attached with thin airhoses, obviously unaware that small combat transports were being redirected through the cargo bays.
What a mess, she thought wearily, paying close attention to the docking instructions feeding through her helmet.
finally she landed the craft and powered down engines, launching herself from the cockpit and over to the docking station to file her flight record.
She saluted the harbour master crsiply. Sergeant Cooper looked her up and down, his look one of surprised awe.
"Is there a problem, Sir?"
"No problem at all Ensign, you're just the first pilot to get in here without nearly killing one of my docking crew or scraping another transport," he replied, filing her flight record in with the others.
"Yes well, when you fly the kinds of routes I've flown, you learn how to manoevre in tight corners." She chuckled.
"I'd like to hear that story someday, Ensign." He replied, checking her off his list. "Report to ready-room five once you're cleaned up. Your squad has guard duty next shift."
"Yes, Sir." She saluted once more and walked off, tucking her helmet under her arm and peeling off the fasteners on her flight suit from around her neck. She was almost to the heavy steel doors of the docking bay when a voice called her back.
"Carter! Hold up a second."
She turned around. "Something else, Sir?"
"New orders, just came through. Clean up and report to your squad room."
Her shoulders tensed. "What's the damn problem this time?"
"I don't make the orders, Ensign."
She shrugged, moving off again.
Precisely an hour later Carter strode briskly into the squad room which was already occupied by at least ten other pilots, all of whom had at least two more stripes on their shoulders than she did. The hushed conversations fell silent as she walked in, ten pairs of eyes boring into her.
"This is a private meeting, Ensign." The squad Sergeant said brusquely, looking up from his list with an annoyed scowl.
"I was ordered here. Carter, Mackenzie."
"I don't have any Ensigns on my list. This mission is too highly classified for… oh, wait, here you are. Carter, M. Lieutenant."
"That's wrong."
"That's what the paperwork says. Take a seat, Lieutenant."
She glared at him. "There's some kind of mistake."
"There's no mistake." Talis Remm strode into the squad room, replete in well-cut full dress uniform, a parade of administrative assistants trailing behind her like a swarm of bees. "You've just been promoted."
"Huh?" Carter realised it wasn't the most literate of responses, but it was all she could manage.
"Can it Lieutenant. This job calls for a certain piloting skill and the Captain for you personally. Unfortunately your security classification was too low, under the circumstances. You were due for promotion in a month or two anyway, we just advanced the paperwork." She motioned to one of her shadowing aides. The assistant handed over an envelope, which Remm in turn offered to Carter. "Congratulations, Lieutenant."
Carter took the envelope and opened it suspiciously - in it was one stripe and a message from Captain Foster congratulating her on her promotion, promising to include her in the next promotion ceremony. "Thank you, Sir."
A smattering of applause rippled through the room and Carter straightened her shoulders, accepting the small accolade gracefully. It wasn't how she'd imagined getting her promotion, but she guessed she'd take it, and the payrise that went with it.
Remm offered a hint of a smile. "Don't mention it."
Chapter 3 coming soon