Chapter 22

 

Monte Blair couldn't sleep after Summers had torn into the infirmary and demanded to speak with him. The audacity of that woman to demand he declare Calvin unfit for command, it was... unthinkable. Calvin was a good friend of many years. And Monte didn't make it his business to judge what Calvin did with the ship and crew.

Having the XO make demands of him helped nothing. He had enough on his mind as it was. Trouble with the Khans. And, as he lay still, he wondered whether the new cartel leadership would kill him. Or if his lung condition—which was worse than he let on—would do him in first.

He wasn't as much in the dealing game as he used to be. He only had two people under him now, and they were stealing from him; he knew it, but could do nothing about it. He was an old man with a cane, on the other side of the galaxy. Hardly intimidating.

For the millionth time he thought back on his glory days and wished he hadn't taken as many hits over the years. He’d turned to drugs initially to latch onto something that could offer him peace of mind, something that could keep him going when the world felt too heavy. And, for a long time, the drugs had worked, or seemed to. But then, as if overnight, everything came apart. His life, his mind, his body... He wasn’t sure exactly when he realized the drugs were hurting him permanently but it had been too late.

The chronic pain. The dizziness. The vomiting. Before he knew it, he was coughing up blood and who knows what else. One morning he couldn't even see for twelve hours. But when his sight came back he was back on the stuff, searching for something to cope with the loss of his friends, family, and wealth.

His marriage had suffered the most, short-lived as it had been before crumbling apart. Poor Bonnie... if only I could have actually been someone, like I promised. Instead of the trash I became.

It wasn't as bad when he'd finally stopped using and began dealing. That paid off his original debts and allowed him to get away from the planet that had once been home—where all his painful memories were. He left them there, as far away as possible.

But when he had trouble sleeping, like when people barged into his room on the warpath, it left him startled and miserable. Picking at his brain for anything and everything. Decades of fears, mistakes, and pain. It was pure agony. He only kept himself going now because he believed he was finally contributing to the universe. Here, on this starship, he could put his knowledge to use and actually help people. It would never undo a lifetime of regrets, but it helped him ignore them. And if he could end his life on a high note, all the better.

And then, like a re-occurring nightmare, Summers was back again. Banging on the door because Blair had disconnected his comm. When he opened it, she invited herself right in, waving a folder of documents, a picture, and a pill sample. She wore a smile big enough he expected her to say she'd won the lotto.

Unfortunately it was much worse.

"You say ‘bring me evidence,’ well here it is, Dr. Blair!" She handed him the folder. He opened it and browsed through a standard report from the science lab. There wasn't much to it. Basically they'd proven that a sample of drugs found in Calvin's quarters was Xinocodone—or "equarius"—a controlled substance. The implication that followed was simple. Calvin had to be removed from command.

He cursed inside and wondered how Calvin could have been stupid enough to let her, of all people, find equarius in his room. The next logical question would be "how did he get the equarius?" and before long, Monte knew, all fingers would be pointing at him.

"I expect your formal declaration that Cross is unfit for command right away," said Summers. She seemed too arrogant. And he hated that she was right. That he really had no choice. Not if he valued his career anyway. But somehow the thought of Calvin being dragged off to some jail and this witch in front of him, this beautiful nasty witch, sailing away with Calvin's ship... it was just damn wrong.

"No," he said simply.

She looked genuinely shocked. "What did you say?"

"I said no. I won't do it."

"But you have no choice," Summers took back the folder and flipped it open, again showing him her evidence. "Here's the proof. I know Calvin is your friend but you have a duty to do."

"I am not convinced that the equarius you found was actually in Calvin's room, despite the picture," he said, folding his arms.

"It's still there if you want to see for yourself," she snapped.

"You could have put it there," he said. "You had a motive, after all, to get Calvin removed from command. Don't think I've forgotten your visit. You woke me the hell up... twice!"

Her eyes narrowed and he could see rage inside them as she shook her head slowly. "Unacceptable…” She stormed out, folder in hand. He watched her go, knowing he could delay her but there was ultimately nothing he could do to stop her.

 

***

 

Summers had only been to Special Forces Head Quarters once, when she'd toured the ship that first day. She really liked the atmosphere there. The rigid discipline. The soldiers with crisp, unwrinkled uniforms and proper salutes. A place where structure and order prevailed. How the military should be. Seeing the grey sliding door guarded by two perfect soldiers made her smile.

"Commander," the leftmost soldier acknowledged her and they both saluted and let her pass.

"I need to see the Major right away, it's urgent," she said to the attending soldier, a busy looking female in grey fatigues. She paged the Major.

“Commander Presley here to see you, sir, she says it’s urgent.”

The Major’s husky voice could be heard over the comm speaker. "Send her in."

The Major's office was not as brightly lit as the HQ's main room, but the hazelnut paneling made it feel warmer. Behind a matching brown desk the Major sat up straight, hands curled together on his desk. He looked up at her with deep brown eyes that made him seem younger than his greying hair let on.

"What can I do for you, Commander?" He waved for her to sit. Summers accepted and slid her folder of notes across the smooth table.

She cut right to the chase. "I have proof here that Lieutenant Commander Cross has illegal drugs in his possession. He is therefore unfit for command."

The Major didn't seem the type to show his emotions, but she could see surprise in his eyes as he flipped through the lab results and photographs, shaking his head. "This is very alarming, but, I don't have the authority to relieve the Captain of command. You should take this to Dr. Blair."

Summers knew this was protocol and she hadn't come here expecting the Major to relieve Calvin of command—her goals were slightly different. "I've already spoken with the good doctor," she said. "And he refuses to declare Calvin unfit despite this evidence. My opinion is that Dr. Blair is putting his friendship with Calvin ahead of the well-being of the ship."

The Major frowned and leaned back, his chair creaking. "I'm not sure what you expect me to do," he said. "The regulations are very clear, I don't have any jurisdiction over the ship's command." She liked that the Major was a man who operated by the book.

"I am aware of your position," said Summers. "The usual procedure here is to contact Fleet Command and present this evidence. But Calvin has locked out all outside communications. Only you have the security access to override that lockout. I'm asking you to do that so I may contact Fleet Command and present them with this information."

The Major hesitated for a moment, looking conflicted. "Calvin said the lockout was a necessary precaution, that outside communication represents a security threat."

Summers looked him squarely in the eyes. "I have every reason to believe Calvin is using that as an excuse to keep the Fleet from revoking his command."

The Major stroked his chin for several seconds. Summers was about to speak again, to strengthen her argument, when the Major nodded his assent. "Yes, I think you're right. Fleet Command should have this information and they can give us further instructions. We can also ask them whether or not they authorized Calvin to lockout communications."

Summers felt a rush of excitement. "I believe that is the right course of action."

The Major turned his attention to his computer and typed a series of codes, including one that required voice recognition. "System Override Alpha Victor One Whiskey Bravo Niner." The computer confirmed his order with an affirmative beep. He nodded to Summers. "All yours, Commander." He moved aside so she could use his terminal.

Without hesitation, she walked around his side of the desk and input the proper command lines to link up with Fleet Command over a secure channel. Before long, Commodore Yitzen's lightly-bearded face appeared.

"We've been having trouble contacting you, IWS Nighthawk. What's your status?" He seemed tense.

"That's because Lieutenant Commander Cross locked out all outside communication. Major Jenkins overrode Cross’s order so we could give you this report." Summers pulled a disc out of her pocket and plugged it into the Major's computer. At her request, the lab had given her a digital copy of all the information that incriminated Calvin.

As she forwarded it over the kataspace connector, she continued to explain. "In addition to the fact that Calvin disobeyed a direct order by not engaging the Harbinger, it’s also been discovered that Cross has in his possession a controlled substance which he has been using. It is my opinion that this is impairing his judgment and he is unfit for command. Dr. Blair does not agree, I am therefore appealing to you."

"This is a matter of serious concern," said Commodore Yitzen, his eyes scanned back and forth and Summers knew he was reviewing the notes she'd sent him. After a few seconds he said. "Did Cross provide a reason for locking out communications?"

"He said he was under orders from Intel Wing. That incoming kataspace messages were a security threat."

"There was no such order," the Commodore’s eyes lit up. "We have no other choice but to relieve him of command. As of this moment you, Commander Presley, are the commanding officer of the Nighthawk. I am sending this notice to all senior staff. Is Major Jenkins nearby enough to hear what I've just said?"

"Affirmative."

"Good. Your new orders are to proceed directly to station CC-Platform B in the Xerxes system where you will be given further instructions."

Summers felt a wave of confusion. Xerxes System? "Shouldn't we follow the Harbinger to Zendricun Alpha?" she asked.

"Not yet. Proceed to Xerxes with all speed. Fleet Command out." The screen winked off.

"You heard him, Major," said Summers.

"Yes, and I just logged it," he looked up from the computer screen. "You have command."

"Time to spread the good news," she couldn't hold back a broad smile.

The Major nodded and opened a channel to the whole ship. "Attention all hands, this is Major Jenkins. As of this moment, Commander Presley has command of this ship. Calvin Cross has been officially relieved of duty by order of Fleet Command. That is all." He released the button and looked at her. "I'll send two soldiers with you to make sure the transition on the bridge happens smoothly.

"Thank you."

"And Commander," he said as she turned to leave. She looked back at him. "Would you like Cross detained?"

She felt a stab of guilt as she imagined Calvin knocked out in his quarters, and how she'd used him. And, technically, she was guilty of battery against him. It had been necessary and he had deserved it. But now that she had command there was no need to add even more insult to injury.

"No," she said softly. "I don't think that will be necessary."

 

***

 

Calvin awoke to the sound of a loud knock. His eyes, well-adjusted to the darkness, stared at the door but he didn't say anything. It didn't seem real. He rolled over, half-expecting Summers to be next to him, but when she wasn't there he knew it had all been a very vivid, strange dream.

The pounding came again and Calvin managed to sit up, scratching his bare chest—which was frozen with sweat. He stared down at his crumpled sheets and blinked several times, trying to clear away the blurriness. He felt light-headed and somewhat dazed and struggled to collect his bearings. He knew where he was but had no idea how long he'd been here in his quarters or what time it was.

Whoever it was knocked a third time, louder than ever.

"Come," Calvin croaked with his hoarse, groggy voice, desperate for the knocking to stop. The door slid open and a large silhouette rushed inside. "Lights," Calvin ordered. They snapped on to reveal Miles who looked tense, maybe even angry. His face burned red and his eyes seemed larger than usual.

"Is it true?" he asked, panting. Like he'd sprinted the whole way.

Calvin’s head hurt and he combed a hand loosely through his tangled hair, wishing Miles would lower his voice. "Is what true?"

"That Summers has command?" Miles didn't hide his panic.

Calvin shook his head slowly. "I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about..." Feeling the torture of dry throat, he looked around for a water bottle and noticed the open safe. Bottles and bottles of equarius still in place but perfectly visible. One, however, was missing. He felt his heart squeeze with fear and he realized what must have happened.

Summers had used him. And he'd let her. Let her in his room. Let her somehow incapacitate him. And let her break into his safe and discover his dark secret. And all because he was too blinded by her brilliant green eyes, seductive smile, and superbly carved physique... She beat me! He shook his head in disbelief.

"We got this nasty memo from Fleet Command and the Major made an announcement to the whole crew a couple of minutes ago. Summers is in and you're out. I guess they worked it out with someone up the food chain or whatever."

Calvin felt slow, like his mind wasn't working properly. He closed his eyes hard and rubbed his temples, gently coaxing himself to a more alert state. While he did this, he realized he was in real trouble. And had no one to blame but himself.

"So is it true?" Miles pressed. He said it in the kind of way that meant he already knew the answer but desperately hoped otherwise.

"I suppose it is," said Calvin, unmoving. He didn't even feel like standing up.

So that was that... it was such a bitter flavor. The grim future that awaited him in Xerxes didn't feel real. What bothered him most of all—even more than knowing the Raidan mystery would never be solved—was that Summers had taken advantage of him so severely and bested him so easily. He was a smart guy. Always proud of his intelligence. How the hell did he let this happen?

He thought of his encounter with her on the observation deck, what they'd spoken about, how it'd gone. How she'd leveraged her beauty against him. And the more he realized what a fool he'd been, and how he'd been played like a toy—a simple, stupid, foolish toy—the tighter he clenched his jaw.

"How could you let this happen?" Miles demanded, shocked and frustrated. The question cut into Calvin deeply and he could think of no answer he liked, because they each ended with it ultimately being his fault. Like the bad bishop move he'd made in his chess game with Summers earlier. A fatal blunder. Only this time, others had to share the consequences of his mistake, maybe even the whole Empire.

"I got careless," said Calvin, staring blankly at the wall as if he could see through it. "And I let my guard down." He tried to block out the fresh images of Summers' eyes playing with him, and her siren smile... again he shook his head, ashamed. She'd betrayed him. And by letting her do that he'd betrayed himself. Ever since Christine, he'd kept his heart closed to the women around him and now that he'd let someone squeeze past his defenses, his life was in permanent ruins.

He realized how it happened, he'd somehow projected his feelings for Christine onto Summers—and that had been his fatal mistake. With that knowledge, all his romantic feelings were crushed like splintering ice under a steel hammer. And he blocked out the pain and confusion.

"So what happens next?" asked Miles.

Calvin shrugged. "We go to Xerxes. They launch a full inquiry and put us on trial. I'll be discharged, my assets frozen, and they'll leave me stranded on some two-bit border system where I can't do any damage. As for the ship, they'll swap out most of the personnel—probably stuff it full of navy officers the way things are going, and then go kill Raidan, if they can."

Silence filled the air and Calvin took a deep breath. "And if Raidan dies, his secrets die with him. What a waste."

"So you're just gonna roll over and that's it?" asked Miles, his voice gaining volume.

Calvin finally let himself look Miles in the eyes. "I'm not sure what else to do at this point."

"Yeah, but..." Miles faltered for a half second. "I don't want that bitch to win. I wanna fight!"

Strangely, hearing Miles say that gave Calvin the slightest burst of energy and the tiniest smile cracked his lips—but only for an instant.

He may have lost everything else, but he still had the loyalty of his closest friends. And seeing Miles there, eyes lit with rage, Calvin wondered if somehow he could still salvage his situation. If his senior staff—his friends—put it all on the line for him.

"Maybe you’re right…” said Calvin. "We're already condemned by association anyway, may as well hang together and do something to deserve it."

"Now that's more like it," said Miles, pumping a fist into the air. Calvin nodded, feeling excitement pour slowly into him as his mind raced, trying to think how best to twist the situation to their advantage.

"OK, Summers will probably keep two vigilant eyes on me," said Calvin. "So that limits what I can do for now. But it's also an advantage. If she's busy watching me then she's less able to watch you, Shen, Sarah, and the others. What I want you to do is feel around for me, find out who's loyal. See who's in if we make a move."

"When we make a move,” said Miles.

Calvin smirked. "Right. But for now, we have to keep things quiet. Spread the word around cautiously and when you have a good idea of who's with us, arrange a meeting."

"I'm on it," Miles whirled for the door.

"And Miles," said Calvin before he could leave. "Be subtle." He knew that wasn't one of Miles' strong suits.

"You know I will," a smile spread across his round face.

Calvin nodded approvingly. "You're a good man."

 

 

 

 

 

22

When Summers took over the command position from the Second Officer, Mister Rose, she encountered no more resistance than surprised faces. When no one objected to her orders, she dismissed her Special Forces escort who left with a salute.

Every person on the ship had heard the Major's announcement and, like she’d expected, many were in shock. They’d admired Calvin and his loss of command was a wake-up-call many of them had needed. A first step in restoring discipline.

Her first order was to re-open all communication. This was possible now that the Major had overruled Calvin's lockout. The ops officer, Cassidy Dupont, handled it in only a few seconds. Satisfied, Summers turned her attention to the man at the helm.

"What is your name, Second Lieutenant?" She noticed the insignia on his collar.

"Me?" He pointed at himself.

"Yes, you."

"Jay."

"What is your full name."

"I don't like my full name, I prefer Jay," he said very casually. Summers shook her head realizing that even though she had command of the ship, it would still be a long uphill battle before she had a ship worth commanding. Again she told herself this crew could be retrained. It would just take time and a firm hand.

"I asked you a question and I expect an answer immediately. Do you understand?" she snapped.

"Yes, sir."

"Now, what is your name and rank, mister?"

"Second Lieutenant Jay Cox, sir."

"Sit up straight, Mister Cox."

His face reddened but he did as ordered. Summers nodded approvingly. Then she turned her attention to the young man at the defense post. He was just a boy, maybe eighteen or nineteen. It felt strange to trust someone this young with something so vital. But, despite his youth, his black-and-silver uniform boasted the white bar of midshipman. He was an officer and Summers would treat him as such.

"And what is your name, mister?"

"Midshipman Patrick O’Conner, Commander."

She knew everyone else's names already.

"All right, Mister Cox, set a new course. Heading, Xerxes System."

"Aye, Commander," he input the new course. To adjust quickly, the ship had to slow down to basic speeds and stars again filled the windows as the ship turned.

"New course plotted, engaging primary engines and commencing alteredspace jump in forty-five seconds. Standard jump depth. Estimated time of arrival… eight hours."

"Good," Summers stood up. "Lieutenant Commander Rose, you may resume command of your shift."

He saluted and Summers left the bridge.

Next she'd put in an order to have the illicit drugs seized from Calvin's quarters. Then she hoped to get some sleep without thinking of him, and what had happened between them.

 

***

 

"It's all set up."

"Good. Where and when?"

"One hour. Observation deck."

"We're not all getting there at the same time are we?"

"No, no, of course not. Everyone arrives at different times, at least ten minutes apart. Don't worry, I got it."

"I hope it isn't too much time. I don't want anyone to notice people are missing."

"It's still Red Shift for another few hours, I doubt anyone will notice."

"They'd better not."

 

***

 

Summers tried for all of thirty-five minutes to sleep.

Her bed just wasn't soft enough and she couldn't get the temperature exactly right. But that wasn't unusual. The real problem, she knew, was her racing thoughts. She had command now and that meant many more responsibilities. In the quiet darkness she picked through everything she knew about the ship and tried to plan how she'd restructure it. She wanted to streamline everything so they could catch Raidan as soon as possible. That meant getting to know the crew's capabilities better.

She toyed around with different configurations, imagining which personnel she'd move where and what the new shifts would look like. But it wasn't just logistics that kept her awake.

The encounter with Calvin bothered her. She was certain she'd done the right thing. Or, at least, the necessary thing. Everything had come to a head. Calvin had to lose command. And the only way to do that, that she could think of, was to do what she'd done. It hadn't been her first choice. And it sickened her to think about it. But it was what she’d had to do. And now everything was back on track.

So… why did it still upset her?

After tossing and turning for some time, she sat up and forced thoughts of Calvin out of her head. She dressed herself, deciding if she wasn't going to sleep then her time could be better spent in the CO's office … her office.

 

***

 

On the way to the elevator, Summers ran into Calvin.

He didn't make eye contact for more than a second and when they reached each other he veered away. Summers couldn't guess where he was going, but since he really had nowhere to go, she didn't blame him for wandering aimlessly. She could understand that. He must be dealing with a lot of complex thoughts and emotions, and she understood how being cooped up in one's quarters might feel like torture under those circumstances.

"Calvin," she said.

He didn't stop walking. Simply acknowledged her with a cold word, "Commander." He didn't even look at her.

Seeing him reduced to this bothered her. "Calvin, stop," she'd meant it as a command but it came out as more of a plea. He stopped but didn't look up.

"What?" There was no edge to his voice but no softness either. More like apathy.

"About what happened earlier..." she searched for the right words but couldn't find them. "I hope I didn't give you the wrong idea or anything." She didn't want him to think it was personal between them, and didn't want him to think they had, or ever could have, the romantic spark he seemed to have wanted. "We will keep things professional from here on out."

He looked at her finally but said nothing. And his eyes betrayed no emotion. She didn't see seething hatred in them but there was no compassion there either.

"What I did was necessary, the ship was off mission, I had to do it," she couldn't help but explain. He didn't move or reply. It made her feel even more uncomfortable.

"No hard feelings?" she asked.

"No hard feelings," he said. His voice was quiet, like a ghost's whisper, and carried no more emotion than a stone. No sarcasm. No bitterness. Not even resentment. Just... emptiness.

"Well, okay then," she said and straightened her uniform. She hadn't expected him to be this cooperative. Perhaps acceptance had set in and he too realized he was defeated. And now that there was nothing more he could do, his eyes were distant and thoughts introspective.

She saluted but he didn't salute back. Instead he turned around and continued on his way. Like a zombie. A sad, pitiful zombie.

"I hope you get the help you need," she whispered, watching him go. "I really do."

 

***

 

Calvin entered the observation deck and saw five people waiting for him, chatting nervously. Some looked more anxious than others. Only Monte seemed perfectly calm.

"Thanks for coming," said Calvin, after the door closed. Everyone clustered around.

"What the hell happened?" asked Shen. "Summers is CO of the Nighthawk?"

"It's a long story—" said Calvin, hoping to dismiss the question.

"So what's the plan?" asked Miles.

"I'm not going to lie," said Andre, the chief engineer. "I'm a bit nervous about this whole thing. Don't get me wrong, I want to help you if I can. But I'm just not sure how."

"Same here," said Shen. "But I owe it to you to hear you out—we all do."

Sarah nodded. "What can we do for you?”

Calvin looked each of them in the eyes before responding. "You can help me by retaking the ship."

Their reaction was about what he’d expected. Surprise and skepticism. Miles flashed a big toothy grin.

"I can't believe I'm hearing this," said Andre, perhaps the most trepidatious of the bunch.

"I... don't know what to say," said Shen.

"Then just listen," Calvin knew he had their complete attention. "Summers only has command as long as the people aboard this ship think she's been given command. But since the good doctor here never officially declared me unfit," he waved toward Monte who bowed slightly, looking smug, "then everyone on this ship is just taking Summers' word for it. We need to challenge that claim.”

“How?” asked Sarah. “We can’t possibly fight Special Forces.”

“Sure we can!” bellowed Miles. “We outnumber them forty-six to twenty-four."

"Actually it's forty-six to twenty-three,” said Shen. “We lost a soldier on Aleator One."

"Excellent," said Miles. Then, when he realized what he'd said, he added. "Um... Bless his soul."

“Yeah—that’s out of the question,” said Calvin. “Even if we could rally the entire crew, which is… doubtful, we’d still get our asses kicked. That’s why my plan is about deception. If we get the crew to go along with us, or at least not get in our way, we could probably seal off both the bridge and engineering. After that, Special Forces can beat against the doors all they want while we take the ship anywhere we want to go.”

“So how do we deceive the crew into not opposing you?” asked Andre, clearly uncomfortable with the idea.

“We fake a message. Make the computer think it recorded a message when it didn’t. It’ll be text only and state that I do have command. Sent, ostensibly, by Director Edwards, and we display it on every station and in everyone’s quarters.”

Shen looked intrigued. “Yes, that would be possible. With a little work. But once they get that message someone is going to contact Intel Wing and see if Director Edwards actually sent it. And he can deny its authenticity.”

“Which brings me to my second idea,” said Calvin. “Remember what we did to the Brimm servers? Made them think they were busier than they really were, causing them to crash.”

Shen nodded. “Yes, that’s roughly correct.”

“Can we do the same thing here? Make the comms system overload because it’s being bombarded by countless ghost hails that don’t connect to anything?”

Shen sighed. “Theoretically possible though practically difficult, but I can try.”

“After that we simply take back command. Hell, if we contain Summers the Major might not even know any transition happened.”

Shen nodded. “I think this might work.”

“Everyone good with this?” Calvin looked at each of them. No one objected.

“Okay, let’s get to it.”

“Wait,” said Andre, now finding his voice. “What if this doesn’t work?”

“Then I’ll take credit for deceiving you and anyone who believed our fake message. You were just following orders as best you understood them. I’ll take the fall for everyone.”

"Just like Raidan," said Sarah.

"Exactly like Raidan."

 

 

***

 

Vincent Rose sat at the command position. He'd been on the ship for five months and he still felt like he was wearing shoes that were too big.

It wasn't bad when he didn't have the deck. He had full confidence in Calvin and the XO—at least when it had been Anand—but since Rose had command a third of the time, he knew he had a one third chance of being in that chair when a major crisis happened. And, knowing that all life on the ship depended on him during such a moment, he felt uncomfortable.

It didn’t help that Calvin had been replaced by someone who was, more or less, a complete stranger. She wasn't even part of Intel Wing, she was a navy officer! Rose didn't know Summers well, but he already didn't like her. She was uptight, rigid, condescending, and dispassionate. Like a machine.

He especially hated how his eyes would sometimes flick to her. And notice aspects of her beauty. And she was beautiful. Even around other beautiful women she would stand out like a rose among daisies, and here... in the middle of space... she contrasted the grey bolts and grim metal of a starship like light against darkness. He couldn't help noticing that. And he hated it. So, whenever he realized he was looking at her that way, he'd think of his lovely wife and child back home. That strategy worked most of the time. But he held it against Summers that he even had to do it.

And now she was CO! The whole change in power felt wrong. Everybody sensed it. If a two Silver Star hero like Calvin could get the ax no one was safe. Which only added to his anxiety.

"Status?" he asked, wanting to break the silence.

"Flight controls normal," Jay reported from the helm.

"Defense Systems operational," said Patrick, flashing a youthful smile.

"And... all internal systems are good," Cassidy said from the ops station.

"Good," said Rose.

Several more minutes passed in silence and he did what he always did. Thought about home. Anne cooking his favorite meal, pleased to see him after a long deployment. And little Selene rushing down the apartment steps as fast as her tiny legs could carry her, screaming ecstatically "Papa, papa!" How cute she was... he hadn't seen either of them for almost three months, and wouldn't for at least another three. He'd miss Selene's birthday again... if only he could explain in small enough words for her to understand.

"I've got something here, sir," said Jay with a hand on his headset's speaker. He looked confused. "Message coming in on all stations and all decks."

"Display it," Rose said casually.

"I... can't."

"Then on speakers."

"It's text only... for some reason."

Rose sat forward. "What?"

"Yeah, priority one message from Intel Wing, Office of the Director."

"I see it too," said Patrick, eyes fixed on his monitors.

"Something seems... odd about it," Cassidy said from operations. Rose agreed that it seemed unusual, but not unheard of for Intel Wing to broadcast a text-only message. Its reasons could be any, and probably not worth speculating about. Orders were orders.

"Can you confirm the message is from Intel Wing?" Rose asked.

"That's what the computer says..." Cassidy replied, a whiff of skepticism in her voice.

"Then read it," Rose sat back again.

Jay cleared his throat. "Attention all hands of the IWS Nighthawk. This is Director Jack Edwards regarding an order from Fleet Command to terminate the current mission and change command. You are to disregard that order. Intel Wing has command of the Nighthawk, not Fleet Command. Lieutenant Commander Cross is the active CO of the Nighthawk and his orders stand. End Message."

"Well that was short and sweet," said Rose, scratching his head.

"Intel Wing contradicting the Fleet... and in such an unusual way?” asked Cassidy. "Doesn't that seem odd to you?"

"A little," Rose agreed.

"Even though the computer said the message came in with the proper encryption from Intel Wing," Cassidy spoke, "that doesn't mean it couldn't be a fabrication. I suggest we contact Intel Wing, just in case."

Rose nodded. He didn't want to think of it as a possible fabrication, but it was his job to be sure. "Very well," he said. "Send a message to Capital World. Hail Intel Wing, priority one."

"Yes, sir," said Jay and then, a moment later, he looked dumbfounded. "Something's not right here."

"What now?"

Jay looked even more flustered. "I'm not picking up any audio but the computer says we're receiving sixteen thousand hails. No... twenty-nine million hails increasing exponentially. Now it's well over a billion."

Rose became alarmed. "What are you talking about?"

"I don't know," Jay said, looking completely bewildered as he scrambled over his controls.

"Where are these hails coming from?"

"Beats the hell out of me, the system just crashed. It's completely offline. I have no contact outside the ship period," he slapped his computer station, teeth clenched in frustration.

"Can you bring any of those hails over the speaker? Patch us through to one of them."

"No, I can't," Jay said. "The kataspace connector is offline. But before it crashed all I got from them was white noise. Not sure what to make of it."

Rose nodded, his mind racing to control the situation. "Patrick, are there any ships or structures nearby?"

"Negative."

"So outside communication is dead, but we still have inside communications, right?"

"Correct."

Rose was completely clueless. "We need to get the CO in here," he said.

"Which one?" asked Jay.

Rose didn't know the answer to that. He instinctively tapped his line to the CO's office, because of its proximity. "Commander," he said. "We've got a situation here."

"On my way," Summers voice crackled over the speaker. And, not more than five seconds later, she was there.

"What's the situation, Mister Rose?" She asked as he relinquished the command position.

"A moment ago the ship received a message from Intel Wing, broadcast on every deck. Have you seen it?"

"No."

Cassidy pointed to her screen and Summers read the message. "This is wrong," she said, ice in her tone.

Rose continued, "after that, the ship received billions of hails and now we can't send or receive outside communication."

"Why not?" Summers looked to Cassidy who was more than busy at the ops station. "I'm doing a diagnostic now."

"Try again to contact the Fleet," Summers ordered Jay.

"It won't do any good."

"I gave you an order, mister!"

After an exaggerated display of trying, he turned back to the center of the bridge and waved his hands. "Voila, nothing."

Summers looked perplexed. She glanced at Rose. "What's your opinion?"

She was asking him? He almost laughed. "I have no idea what's wrong."

"I've restarted the system a few times," Cassidy said. "But it just times out because it's overloaded and then crashes again. Oh wait, my diagnostic just finished."

"What does it say?" Summers again stared over Cassidy's shoulder.

"It... " Cassidy paused, looking stunned. "I don't know. All systems operating normally." She scratched her head. "Maybe... I think I could make this happen if I wanted to, if someone tampered with—"

The elevator door whisked open and Calvin, Miles, Sarah, and Shen stormed the bridge looking pleased.

"Make way," said Miles as they moved to their stations. Rose looked from them to Summers—whose confusion had only intensified.

"This isn't White Shift," said Summers. "And Calvin, you can't be here."

"Not according to the latest message from Intel Wing," he said as he took the command position and sat down. Summers was on him like a hawk, standing over him and glaring. Like an invader had just squatted her nest. Calvin's only reaction was to look up at her and grin.

"It's true," said Shen. "The official word is that the Fleet's decision to revoke Calvin's command was illegitimate and has been reversed by the proper authority, Intel Wing. Since this is, after all, an Intel Wing ship."

She gave Shen a menacing glare. "There's no way that message came from Intel Wing."

He shrugged. "Could have fooled me," he glanced briefly at Calvin. "Cassidy, did the computer verify the message’s authenticity stamp?”

“Yes—” she said, unconvinced.

"There you see!" said Miles. "Now move over ex-bosslady." He moved closer to Summers and she shifted her attention from Calvin to him, taking up a defensive posture, as if thinking Miles would strike her. But Miles stopped a few feet away and they just glared at each other.

"And we can't call Intel Wing to confirm this because, conveniently, outside communication is offline," said Cassidy.

"That's technology for you,” said Calvin.

"Right, now move over," said Miles again, inching closer. Summers looked like a cat trapped in an alleyway full of dogs.

"What I find interesting," said Summers, refusing to back down, "is that we haven't heard anything from Special Forces yet," she dared a quick glance at Calvin.

Calvin ignored her comment. “As CO of this ship, I order you to go to my office and remain there until I say otherwise."

"Since you are not legitimately the CO of this ship and I am," said Summers, "I refuse."

"Well you heard her," said Miles. "You all heard her."

"For disobeying a direct order from your superior officer," said Calvin. "I arrest you for insubordination and you are now a prisoner on this ship until we make port and you are transferred to the proper authority." He stood up.

"Insubordination?” she said the word like she’d never heard it before

"Lock her in my office," he waved to Miles.

"With pleasure." He closed in.

She took up a defensive stance.

He charged her but relied too much on size and brute strength and Summers used his momentum against him. She deflected his hands and darted aside as he passed, giving him a firm shove in the direction he was headed. Unable to stop, he crashed into the CO's chair. Calvin darted aside in the nick of time.

Before anyone could stop her, Summers ran for the elevator.

Miles scrambled to his feet and charged her way, almost overtaking her, but the door closed before he could snatch her. He slammed his hands flat against the elevator door to keep his head from crashing into it.

"That slippery witch!" he said, looking more embarrassed than angry. He turned to face Calvin. "I'm sorry."

Calvin said nothing for a few seconds. "This does present a problem."

Shen moved to the center of the bridge, looking nervous. "We needed to keep her here so she wouldn't contact the Major. I was going to disable the office's comm and everything."

"I said I was sorry."

"That's not our only problem," said Calvin. "The beacon."

"Oh right," said Shen.

"Is there anything we can do about that?" Calvin asked. "Block it somehow?"

"No. Not unless you have a room with tungsten walls a hundred feet thick. We'd do better to capture it. If we had it, we could keep it from being turned on."

"What are you talking about?" asked Miles.

"The emergency beacon. A silent signal that can only be picked up by Imperial Military starships," said Shen. "It's a Fleet standard, it came aboard when Summers did. And she’s the only one here who’s been trained how to use it. How do you not know this stuff?"

Miles shrugged. "I dunno. I'm a government employee. I don't have to know everything."

“Even when your business is all about acquiring information?”

While they discussed it, Rose's eyes moved from them to the other Red Shift members, who seemed equally confused and quiet. They too weren't sure what to make of it all.

"So what do we do?" asked Shen.

"We have to seal off the bridge and engineering.”

The whole thing felt suspicious to Rose who saw that feeling in the eyes of his fellow Red Shift officers. But none of them spoke. Calvin seemed to pick up on this.

"I have command," Calvin insisted. "Legitimately. But I'm afraid there really is a fight going on between Intel Wing and Fleet Command. And Summers, an agent of the Fleet, will try and trick the Major into thinking the Fleet has control of the ship and not Intel Wing."

"How could they be fighting?" asked Patrick. "They're on the same side!"

"You have a lot to learn now that you're in Intel Wing," said Calvin. "But let's just say, it's no secret the Fleet and Intel Wing don't see eye to eye on this investigation. Now the Fleet is making a play for control of the ship, but it isn't going to work. Because we won’t let it. Set a new heading—Abia System. Let's do a deep jump, maybe ninety-five percent potential. Miles take your station. Sarah, give engineering the order to seal themselves off. Red Shift, you're relieved. Shen, put up those defense walls once Red Shift is gone."