Chapter 10

 

"He isn't talking," Major Jenkins said when Calvin arrived.

"You revived him already?" Calvin saw the lycan on the other side of the translucent forcefield, in his current form he looked perfectly human except for glowing red eyes.

"He came to on his own. Turns out a standard dose ain't enough to keep him down for more than a few minutes."

Calvin nodded to the Major and stepped up to the forcefield, hoping to get a good look at their new passenger through the blinking haze. He was a few inches taller than an average man with thick dark hair and smooth brown skin. Even through the blur, Calvin could see the lycan's twisted smile. "Hello, Captain."

"So what've we got, Major?" Calvin didn't take his eyes off the prisoner.

"No idea who he is, just a bogus name. Scanning his eyes is no good and his fingerprints are next to worthless. According to the computer his left hand is a sixty-five percent match with one person and the right is a thirty-percent match of a completely different person, both of whom are dead from natural causes."

"OK, Lycan, we'll start at the top. What's your name?"

"Now, now, you don't have to say it like that." The prisoner said, his voice had a rough, scratchy texture.

"Shut up and answer his question!" The Major inched closer and tapped the stunner holstered on his thigh.

"I'll take it from here, Major," Calvin motioned for the Major to step aside, which he did with a disgruntled look. Calvin had no jurisdiction over Special Forces, even on his own ship, he couldn't order the Major to stand down. He just had to hope the man would cooperate.

"OK, Lycan, if you do not appreciate being called Lycan, you have to give me an alternative. How about your real name?"

"John Johnson." He said.

"Right.... okay, John Johnson, maybe you can tell me what you were doing in a two-person skiff in the middle of nowhere."

"And maybe you can tell me what I did to warrant being put behind this forcefield."

"So that's the way it's going to be?" Calvin paused, not sure where to take this. He was much better with puzzles than interrogations. "We answered your distress call and probably saved you from a very slow, painful death by asphyxiation. But, if you don't tell me who you are and what you were doing, we could always put you back."

"Is that a threat?"

"Oh you picked up on that?"

"I see this is a classy establishment." The lycan rolled his fiery eyes.

"If I don't know who you are and what you're doing here I can't really help you."

"Then it'll be pretty interesting to see what you decide to do. But I do have one recommendation, Captain."

"And what is that?"

"There's one thing you should know about me, " his eyes narrowed. "I don't like being caged. Now why don't you drop this forcefield and give me quarters while we're still friends."

"I'll think about it," said Calvin, even though he had no intention of doing so. The lycan couldn't get through a forcefield unless someone else turned it off. "But a little cooperation from you would go a long way in the meantime, John Johnson."

"I doubt it. I know you've already made up your mind, Captain; regular humans are too easy to predict. I have nothing more to say here so, if you don't mind, I'd like some peace and quiet so I can sleep on this pathetic excuse for a bed you have in here."

Calvin shook his head in disbelief and left with the Major at his heels. When the door closed, Calvin said "I want him under constant camera surveillance with a minimum of two guards on duty. Let them know they're not even allowed to blink."

"What are we going to do about him in the long run?"

"Dump him off on Aleator. I'll let the port authority know exactly what he is, and they will take him off our hands. I'm not taking no for an answer. He's a nuisance to our investigation and we're not designed to keep prisoners long-term anyway. In half a day, he'll be out of our hands. After that I don't care. Just keep him under lock and key until then."

 

***

 

Two hours ticked away but it felt like twenty. Calvin was sure time was going backwards.

To distract himself, he dug into his mountain of intel. He finished a thorough read-through of the Harbinger's manifest but it yielded very few leads. Some details seemed peculiar, and he would check into them—for instance a few officers had served time for petty crimes like theft or vandalism—but almost every navy ship had supposedly-reformed crew members with criminal records. Calvin's information gave him nothing more to go on and he had no reason to suspect one former criminal over another, and nothing more than prejudice to suspect them more than any of the other crew. He returned to the communications specialist convinced that, if anyone were involved with Raidan, it had to be that person.

As his computer linked to the vast universal nets he entered several passcodes to connect to the more privileged databases.

"OK, Mister Gates, let's see what more we can learn about you." He waited for the search to complete but, before it did, the light on his desk started flashing. "What is it?" he asked, tapping the direct link to the bridge.

"Just letting you know Commander Presley has ordered a course correction, sir," Sarah's voice filled the room.

"What for?" He stood up and smoothed out his uniform.

"There's a major astronomical event occurring on our previous path."

"What kind of event, Sarah?"

"From here it seems like the huge gravitational collapse of the TR-301 star, no planets or bases around it but a black hole may be forming."

"If it's not one thing, it's another," Calvin rubbed his temples. "Let me guess it’s going to delay us somehow."

"The gravity pull is affecting our alteredspace stability so we’ve had the navcomputer map a new path, ETA... sixteen hours."

He sighed. That's just perfect... a dangerous prisoner and an even colder trail. "Thank you, Sarah, keep me informed if anything changes."

"Will do."

Calvin scratched his head and sat back down, trying not to stress about this news. A collapsing star was completely out of his control... but what were the odds? One in a billion? No, more like one over infinity that a major star would collapse directly between them and Aleator while they were in a hurry to get there.

Unless it was forced to collapse... Could someone destroy a star? And would they do it just to slow him down?

That was completely absurd and he knew it. But so was Raidan stealing the Harbinger, and that had happened. The more he thought about it, the more it bugged him that this star would choose to die at the most inconvenient time imaginable.

He saved the results of the Gates search for review later then sent an inquiry to Intel Wing, asking what it would take to destroy a star like TR-301. He had no astrophysicists aboard and that meant Fleet Command would hear his inquiry too, and they might think it’s a waste of time. But to hell with them.

He called the bridge. "Hey, Sarah?"

"Yeah, Cal?"

"Point all our major scanners to the collapsing star and everything around it within a click. If so much as a piece of garbage is out there, I want to know about it."

"Do you mind if I ask why?"

"Just a suspicion, Sarah. That's all."

"Aye, aye." The intercom clicked off and he resumed his investigation of Mister Gates.

Unfortunately, information about Mister Gates was rather sparse. He had medical records, proof of birth and citizenship, family and next of kin, school reports, a dissertation, but nothing outstanding. Except for a strange gap in his education. For one year he was away from school for no apparent reason.

Finally, after much research, Calvin pieced together something huge. Gates had been sentenced to "four years imprisonment followed by three years at the reform center on Primeva Major." But the sentence was commuted after only one year and he was returned to school, record wiped clean. Calvin kept digging.

"For five years Jefferson Aldred Gates was part of the paramilitary organization CERKO." Calvin knew who they were. A small group of rebels who claimed responsibility for the terrorist attack that destroyed the Imperial Ship Lightfalcon B. For ten years CERKO attacked police stations and bombed government structures until the Imperial Military cracked down on them. Apparently, during the government raids, they found evidence linking Gates to CERKO, as a sympathizer who supplied explosives. He was captured, tried, and eventually put into prison. Or so Calvin gathered; the picture wasn't very clear since he was piecing this together from several—somewhat inconsistent—sources, and someone had gone through and done a sloppy whitewash of Gates' files.

"Now we're onto something," Calvin started a new search, hoping to find out why a former convict and terrorist had been allowed aboard a major military vessel, and why Gates' sentence was commuted. But just as he got excited, his intercom light flashed again.

"What is it?" He asked, unhappy about the interruption.

"Captain to the bridge," said Sarah, sounding alarmed.

Calvin jumped up and hustled to the door without another word. Not much in the galaxy worried Sarah. "What is it?" he asked, sweeping toward the command position.

"The Major just apprised us of a situation below decks," Summers was calm and well collected. But Miles wore his anxiety on his sleeve.

"The bloody werewolf has escaped!" he yelled.

Calvin looked back to Summers who nodded. "He's escaped confinement and both guards are missing."

"What about the surveillance tape?"

"The Major's looking it over now."

"Condition one alert!" said Calvin and he pressed the intercom. "All hands not on duty must report to quarters immediately, and stay there until further notice. And keep them locked at all times. An intruder is aboard, I repeat an intruder is aboard. Consider him armed and dangerous. Until I say otherwise, code fifteen is in place. All decks are locked down effective immediately and all active personnel are on continuous duty until told otherwise. That is all."

"What does that mean, code fifteen?" asked Miles.

"It's a mystery to me how you ever passed the certification exam," said Summers.

Calvin opened a channel to the Major's office. "What's going on, Major? I need a report."

"Sometime within the last ten minutes the lycan disappeared along with his guards. The surveillance shows nothing and we've just proven it's a fake, someone switched the tapes. And the audio feed we set up on that deck didn't pick up anything either. We've done a sweep of the five decks surrounding the confinement area... so far nothing."

"Oh that's just perfect..." Calvin let go of the comm for a second and looked at Summers. "We just had to bring him aboard... duty demanded it... well, I hope you're happy!" he pushed the button again. "I suggest you activate all your units and break them into teams. I want every inch of this ship searched until every room has been turned upside down, every panel opened, and every nook and cranny uncovered. We're going to find him!"

"Agreed. I've already begun organizing teams."

"And, Major, send your upper-decks team to the bridge ASAP, I want to go with them."

"Acknowledged, they'll be there soon." Calvin let go of the comm and headed back toward his office.

"Go with them?" Summers asked. "What for?"

"Because I made a mistake that put my crew in danger and I'll be damned if I don't fix it. You have the deck."

Once inside his office it was only a few steps to the weapons locker. He pressed his thumb to the plate and typed in the code—which took him a second to remember. His ship had never been boarded before so he'd never needed to use his firearms until today.

He selected an assault rifle from a set of five and took an additional pistol with thigh holster. He inspected the weapons then loaded the magazines making sure to bring a few extras. The pistol was as simple as they came, but the rifle was thoroughly upgraded and boasted much more firepower than what marines packed. The manufacturer bragged this rifle could "shred steel." And though that claim was certainly exaggerated, Calvin didn't handle the weapon lightly. He returned to the bridge with it firmly in hand, aimed at the floor.

The Special Forces unit had already arrived. Five soldiers in total, a little less than a fourth of Special Forces. They brandished a variety of guns, all impressive, and stood rigid, side-by-side, in dark grey camouflage with black berets. He only knew two of them by name, one was the Major's second in command, Captain Jason Pellew. His body was every bit the rugged and tough soldier he was supposed to be, but he had the face of a movie star and a suaveness about him that made him popular among the women on the ship. Sarah's eyes were glued to him, and even Summers seemed slightly distracted.

"Mister Pellew," said Calvin, looking him in the eyes.

"Yes, sir."

"We'll start at the bridge landings, split the team in half and work in a circle tossing every deck from ten to seven."

"Yes, sir," Pellew saluted then turned to his men. "Staff Sergeant Davis, take Nassar and Uzbeck and search the landings and the aft sections. Alenko, you’re with me and the captain in the bow, now let's move out."

They acknowledged and saluted. Calvin followed behind Pellew down the hatch and ladder while the other team took the elevator. Once on the steel landing they filed into the corridor of deck nine. As they passed a few quarters and offices they began to toss the rooms. Calvin stuck with Pellew and they overturned every inch of the quartermaster's office before moving to the adjacent maintenance closet.

"Are your men aware that we're not searching for a regular human intruder?"

"Sir, yes, sir."

"It's just the three of us, you can drop the sir, yes, sir stuff,” said Calvin. Pellew didn't respond so he added, "that’s an order."

"All right, then," said Pellew. "I know we're looking for the lycan we took off the shuttle a few hours ago. What else can you tell me about him?"

"Not a lot, unfortunately. The Major and I didn't get anything out of him during our interrogation."

They finished rummaging through the maintenance closet and locked it up again. "What I want to know," said Calvin. "Is how two Special Forces soldiers, experts, allowed him to escape in the first place. What can you tell me about them?"

Before Pellew could answer, one of his men jogged to them with a report. "All the men report nothing in this section, sir."

"Inform the sergeant we're moving to deck eight, then form up at the ladders."

"Sir, yes, sir!" the lance corporal jogged off.

"What were you saying?" Pellew looked at him.

Calvin decided he was more interested in something else. "Where do you keep the surveillance feed? I need to know who could have replaced the tape."

"HQ, on deck one." Pellew's answer was exactly as Calvin suspected. The Head Quarters for the Special Forces staff was a set of small adjoining offices that were constantly staffed and busy. Penetrating it deep enough to replace a critical data tape undetected would be a nearly impossible achievement. Unless the perpetrator were an insider, or had special talents. Making the mystery of the missing tape another question he couldn't solve without more information.

They met up with the rest of their team and climbed down to the next deck, which they spread out and tossed like before. The soldiers stormed through the corridors and rooms, keeping the alarmed crewmen in their quarters, and overturned tables and chairs, searched under beds, etc. But as Calvin had feared, they turned up nothing. Just as they finished combing deck eight, the Major gave them a report via Captain Pellew's radio. Fifty percent of the ship searched so far, and nothing found.

They continued their deep search to deck seven, opening every container, scouring every room, but they still found nothing. The Major's other teams reported no more success. They were quickly running out of ship to search and Calvin feared the werewolf's keen senses kept him a step ahead, allowing him to double back to sections they'd already searched, giving them the perpetual slip. He wished he could post soldiers in every corridor on every deck, but he lacked the manpower. And he didn't want to involve the crew who were neither properly trained nor equipped to handle a rogue werewolf. He knew he needed outside help before an incident happened, so he radioed the bridge.

"Put out a distress call," he instructed Sarah. "But only use frequencies watched by Intel Wing. Inform them we have a two-nineteen and need to be boarded by a large, heavily armed unit."

Barely two minutes later she radioed back. "Intel Wing confirms the Avenger is inbound to board us, six clicks away. We've altered course to rendezvous. ETA... three hours."

"Three hours?"

"That's the closest ship capable of handling a two-nineteen."

"All right, burn the engines at full capacity and get us into as deep a jump as possible. Hopefully we can reach ninety-nine point nine percent potential. Keep me informed."

He gave Pellew back the radio with a sigh, knowing he could have expected no better. His ship was way out in deep space, a region inconveniently between the Empire, the Rotham Republic, and the Polarian Confederated States, and mostly ignored by the major powers. Just as the radio had changed hands, a soldier's voice crackled over it.

"Team two found something in the port quarter of deck three."

"In the storage containers?" asked Calvin.

Pellew raised the radio to his mouth. "What is it, sergeant?"

"You'd better get over here, sir."

Pellew looked to Calvin for confirmation.

"You heard the man, let's go."