Chapter 5

The day rolled forward in slow motion, even though it was the start of a much anticipated vacation.

The station had a large staff apart from the 500 person crew that maintained it, the facility provided most of the conveniences someone might expect. From diverse food options to commercial centers everywhere, everything buzzed with activity on all public-access levels. But few of the diversions piqued Calvin's interest. He avoided the gambling hall, even though he was free to play as much as he liked now—he just didn't feel like it, and instead spent his time exploring the station, enjoying some alone time. He stopped from time to time to stare out the windows at the planet below. He'd been all over the Empire and was still caught off-guard by the raw beauty of a sapphire blue planet almost close enough to touch.

Eventually he returned to his room to read. But his books couldn't hold his interest and neither did the online nets, so he began sorting through papers relevant to the Phoenix mission, and scribbled notes. He began a list of every possible motive Raidan might've had to go rogue, no matter how unlikely, hoping he could put everything in perspective.

It was only a few minutes of this, however, before his ideas ran out and became silly to amuse himself, like "his pizza was laced with amphetamines causing him to misbehave for several days" and Calvin tossed his pen aside and crumpled the paper into a ball. What was the point? The case was decided. The sentence would be carried out. Asari Raidan would die, and the truth, whatever it was, would die with him. Calvin knew better than to hope he could figure out what Raidan's motives had been. Not without more information. So it was a waste of time. An unwanted distraction that was already ruining his vacation.

As a last resort, he turned on some music—a very old piano solo recorded hundreds of years before, and lay in bed. He wasn't tired enough to sleep, but as he followed the gentle rolling notes of the sonata in minor key, he was able to relax and push everything out of mind.

Until the comm panel started chirping at him. He resisted at first, covering his ears with a pillow, but eventually answered the call. "Calvin here, what is it?"

"Heya there, Cal." It was Sarah and she sounded more than a bit tipsy. "It's me, you know. I'm with Shen here and we were just sayin’ where the hell is that commander of ours?"

Calvin laughed. "In my room."

"In your room? At 1800 hours on a firstnight of leave? Nooo... can you believe that, Shen? He's in his room on the first night of leave!" Her voice was somewhat drowned out by the sounds of music and talking. "That won't do. Unless..." she giggled. "You’re not alone over there are you, Cap'n?"

“No, I’m not alone,” Calvin looked around his room; it was empty except for piles of his junk and a few books on the floor. "Okay, I’m alone.”

"Then come on over here and have a few drinks with us, why don'tcha? Don't you know we're on vacation?"

He usually felt out of place in rooms crowded with people dancing, singing, drinking, and trying too hard to impress the opposite sex. But he didn't have anything better to do, and both Sarah and Shen, like many in his crew, had become trusted friends. People he enjoyed spending time with. "All right, sure. Why not. Where are you?"

"Mist-36..." A noisy song could be heard blasting in the background.

"OK, see you," he turned off the panel.

Mist-36... he's seen it earlier that day. The larger of the two clubs on the station. He was pretty sure he knew how to find it again, instead of searching for it on the computer, he dug out some fresh clothes and took a fast shower. He always told people he wasn't interested in meeting a girl and getting tied down somewhere, but really it was only the 'getting tied down somewhere' that bothered him. And since he would be rubbing shoulders with a lot of people his age, he felt compelled to make the best impression he could.

Once dressed, he splashed water on his face and checked himself over in the mirror. He even fussed with his hair for a few seconds. "Not bad, Calvin, not bad. You clean up pretty well for an Acting Captain." He grinned and dabbed on a tiny bit of cologne, very careful not to overdo it. This was one of those rare occasions where being only twenty-five was an advantage.

Unfortunately, finding Mist-36 was harder than expected, and he ended up on the complete wrong side of the station.... somehow. He'd never been good with directions, ironic for someone who began his career as a pilot. He preferred being the one who decided where to go, not how to get there. And now, lost as he was, he still didn't want to ask for help. Not because of pride so much as a natural urge to solve the puzzle himself. He back-tracked and tried again. When that didn't work he found a kiosk and looked up a map of the station, memorizing the way to Mist-36.

A long line of people waited under the glowing blue sign. He took his place and shuffled forward thoughtlessly. They were able to glimpse the club's insides through a wide window along the wall. What stood out about it, to Calvin, was that it was old-fashioned enough to be made of some kind of glass. If starships and stations used such windows they'd all be dead by now. It wasn’t exposed to space, though, and probably saved the owner some serious q.

With his hands in his jacket pockets, he let his mind slip away from the boredom of the line, daydreaming, and before long it was his turn.

"Yeah you look all right. Here, thumb against the plate. It's policy." One of the two bouncers in black suits spoke to him. Calvin fought his smile. Being judged by a couple of muscle-heads to see if he was "pretty enough" to get inside seemed absurd. A paying customer with deep pockets, would they really turn him away? Apparently so, as about half the people had been refused.

"Hey, you listening, man?"

"Yeah, sorry, what?" He smiled, trying not to look rude, despite missing what they'd said.

"You gotta thumb the plate. It's policy. No non-humans, no criminals, and no non-citizens."

Calvin pressed his thumb flat against the plate before catching the last qualifier. He wasn't a non-citizen, he was a half citizen. But apparently that was enough to red-flag him.

"You're only a half-citizen?"

"Yeah," said Calvin. Full citizenship was hard to come by, so much so that even half-citizenship was often considered privileged.

"Sorry pal, full citizens only. Don't feel bad, we turn away hundreds a day."

"Okay, well, whatever," Calvin turned around. Being as established as he was in the military, he forgot how much harder it was to get by in the Empire without being a full citizen. Even in the military he knew his citizenship status was holding him down at Lieutenant Commander. A rank that was still quite respectable for a twenty-five year old, but what about when he turned thirty-five? Would he still be a Lieutenant Commander? Did they intend to keep him down forever? His service record demanded better, but he tried not to think of such things. He'd be a full citizen someday, when he inherited his mother's citizenship status at the time of her death. But, like any good son, he hoped that day never came.

"Hold up there, Calvin." One bouncer said turning to the other. "Eric, it says here he's a Lieutenant Commander. You know the rules, officers get in no matter what."

"What about the other rules? Like no non-citizens."

"Idiot. This rule is the number one rule. Otherwise the boss loses his contract. This ain't mainstreet. If we start turnin’ away officers, we're done. The rent on this place will—"

"Ok, guys," said Calvin. "Make up your minds. In or out? I'm tired of standing here."

"In," the bouncer on the left said, pointing his thumb over his shoulder. The other eventually nodded and stepped out of his way. "The cover charge is 5q."

Calvin nodded and handed them the cash.

The club was a strange combination of bright and dark inside. Most lights were off but several soft lights of all colors and varieties were everywhere. Everything was a little obscured by a lingering cloud of smoke and people were everywhere, despite the efforts of the bouncers to keep most everyone out. Almost every person was standing, either in circles chatting with others, or dancing to the energetic rhythms of some live musicians who Calvin didn't recognize—probably a local sensation. He didn't really care for the style, being partial to a different genre. Anand sometimes joked that Calvin had been born in the wrong decade.

He slipped through the mess of people and stopped near the center of the room, letting his eyes search for the familiar faces of his bridge crew. But almost no one's face could be made out in the haze and he found himself wishing Sarah had given better directions.

Someone crashed into him, nearly throwing him off balance. But he kept his footing, wobbling a bit, and managed to catch the stranger by the forearm so she wouldn't fall. As he let her go he saw a pretty young face. Even in the dark she looked embarrassed while apologizing profusely.

"It's all right," said Calvin. "Don't worry about it, you're fine."

"Once again, I'm very sorry."

He laughed, stopping her as she turned away. "What's your name?"

"Sylvia."

"Well, Sylvia, maybe you can help me. I'm looking for where drinks are served."

"Oh there's a sectioned off bar right through there," she pointed to a door on the left wall. She brushed some of her light brown hair from her eyes and gave him a warm smile. It was hard to see her clearly in the darkness, her face lit only by the blinking strobe light, but she was very cute.

"Say..." Calvin hesitated. Somehow girls made him uneasy in a way that aliens bent on killing him did not. "I'm meeting up with some friends, would you like to join me?"

"Thanks anyway, but no. I really have to go. Maybe some other time."

He nodded, thinking maybe it was for the best that she’d brushed him off. Suppose she hadn’t and they ended up really liking each other, what then? He couldn’t let himself get tied into a relationship. His career wasn't suited for it, with all the secrecy and traveling. And, in his eyes, he wasn’t a good enough person to settle down with someone. Not yet.

So he forgot about the girl and pushed on through the door she'd pointed out. He found several booths and a short bar sectioned off from the noisy main room. The lighting was a little brighter. The instant he walked in he heard "Hello, Calvin!" from his left.

"Hello, Sarah and Shen." He nodded and took an empty seat at their table. An attendant followed him.

"What can I get you, sir?"

Calvin hesitated—he didn’t drink alcohol. “I’ll have a glass of water,” he said, adding, “on the rocks.” He smiled like it was the funniest thing he’d ever said.

"Okay..." the attendant said, looking both unamused and disappointed as he left.

"The water's free but I hope you tip him anyway," said Shen from behind a large mug.

"I'm sure he'll live." Calvin tried to make himself comfortable, shifting on the stiff furniture. "So what have you two been gabbing about while I kept you waiting?"

"Mostly about how slow you are."

Sarah giggled. "And how you never ask for directions."

"We made a small wager to see how fast you'd get here. And you let me down, Cal," Shen folded his arms.

With a broad grin Sarah said, "if you want a drink, Captain. It's on me, I stumbled upon 70q somehow." She spun Shen's moneycard on the table, beneath her long slender fingers.

"70q, really?” asked Calvin. "That's almost a day's pay. You sure you haven't been drinking too much?"

Shen shrugged. "Probably. But what can I say?" He traced the foamy ring of his mug with one finger. "I'm on vacation, what's a little betting?"

Calvin shook his head. "I don't think betting's your thing, Shen. Seems like you're almost as bad as Miles."

"Actually," said Sarah. "We called him earlier to come up, but apparently he's 'on a roll'. I guess he's made a pretty good profit so far and doesn't want to lose ‘the magic', or whatever he calls it."

Calvin raised an eyebrow. "You're kidding me. He's actually winning?"

Shen laughed. "First time for everything."

"That reminds me," said Calvin. "And don't ask what one has to do with the other," he wagged a finger. "But we're getting a new first officer."

"What about Anand?"

"Transferred, got his own command."

"That rat. What a backstabbing traitor," said Sarah with a smile. "And to think I'd always admired him."

Calvin knew Sarah had much more than admired him. The two would flirt shamelessly and yet, they'd still never managed to hook up.

"Yeah... hard to believe he's going," said Shen. "I'm going to miss him." Shen seemed almost pleased.

"So will I,” said Calvin.

"So who's the new officer?" asked Shen.

"I honestly don't know."

The server brought Calvin his ice water and again asked if there was something more he could do. Calvin had intended to refuse but, remembering what Shen has said about the tip, decided he'd order a small meal. He was almost finished looking over the menu when Shen pounded his shoulder.

"Hey, look at this."

"What?" Calvin glanced down at the table's viewscreen. Shen had activated the news station and a large vessel could be seen leaving the dock, flanked by two other warships.

"A dreadnought with two corvettes. The Harbinger."

"So what?"

"It's our friend, listen," he handed Calvin a small ear piece.

He heard an articulate woman over the feed. She broadcasted from some newsroom off station. "It's unknown where he's being kept aboard the very large ship you see there. But former starship captain Asari Raidan is en-route to Capital World on the ISS Harbinger which is temporarily being used as a penal ship. It looks like the Imperial Navy has provided some extra escort as you can see by the presence of the two corvettes. No word yet on who ordered the extra precaution or how far the escort will go. But they're about to clear the defense perimeter."

Seeing their shift in attention, the attendant excused himself and wandered off to some other table.

Calvin ignored him and let out a sigh, "I was hoping to get my mind off all of this." He needed to accept that Raidan's behavior was a mystery that would go unresolved. Calvin removed the earpiece and began handing it back when flashes appeared on the viewer, lighting up the hulls of the two corvettes.

"Wait a second," he snatched the earpiece back and put it on again. As he did, the station went to full alert with emergency lights snapping on and a noisy klaxon filled the air as General Quarters was sounded. Most everyone in the bar jumped up and started screaming, Calvin had to plug his other ear to hear the broadcast.

"What's going on?" asked Shen.

Calvin shushed them and listened. Unfortunately, the noisy panic made it impossible to catch more than bits and pieces.

"Both corvettes have experienced localized explosions and are adrift. No word yet on injuries." The two escorting warships drifted away from the large Harbinger, which looked untouched. Calvin knew from the damages that the corvettes’ main thrusters and engines were crippled. Both ships opened fire at the Harbinger with basic laser arrays but it was pointless. They couldn't hope to breach the dreadnought's shields, and it was quickly pulling away. An instant later, the Harbinger changed direction and vanished.

"The Harbinger has changed heading and made an unscheduled alteredspace jump. Moments ago, Imperial Military starships opened fire on the apparently rogue vessel—carrying the condemned prisoner, Asari Raidan. But the efforts of the Praxis Squadron did not contain the fleeing ship. The ISS Harbinger’s current whereabouts and destination are not yet known. No comment from the Fifth Fleet yet."

The screen went blank and was replaced by a military officer at a desk. He wore a standard blue-and-black uniform and on his lapel was the amethyst insignia for Second Commodore. "This is Second Commodore Miguel Shenkov, commander of Praxis Station," he said, Calvin looked up to see the message displaying on all screens and broadcasting over every loudspeaker. "Everyone on board is ordered to go directly to their quarters and remain until further notice. I promise you, you'll know more when I know more. But for now, this station depends on your complete and orderly cooperation to ensure everyone’s safety. All active crew will report to their stations and local commanders. This is an order." The message repeated over and over, drowning out the nervous chatter and panic.

"What do we do?" asked Shen, looking at Calvin with earnest eyes.

"We do as he says. Go to your quarters. And you'll know more when he knows more."

"Just like that?" Sarah asked.

"Just like that." Calvin nodded. Until he was given orders otherwise, or activated by Intel Wing, he and his crew were on shore leave and fell under the jurisdiction of the local authorities. "However, you might want to hold off on unpacking your bags. If the threat is serious, which I'm sure it is, I'm willing to bet every warship within two sectors will be activated within the hour."

The door burst open and marines filed in, ordering everyone to systematically evacuate the club. Calvin lined up with the others and headed for his room. Already trying to decide whether Raidan had something to do with the attack or if it was a setup meant to appear that way.