Bennett-WSoulitesThe War of the SoulitesNatasha BennettLyrical Press, Inc.Copyright © 2009 by Natasha BennettScience Fiction/Mainstream. 70944 words long. First published in 2009, 2009 enNoveltext/xmlScience Fiction/Mainstream

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The War of the Soulites
by Natasha Bennett
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Science Fiction/Mainstream

Lyrical Press, Inc.
www.lyricalpress.com

Copyright ©2009 by Natasha Bennett

First published in 2009, 2009

NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.

CONTENTS

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War of the Soulites

Author Acknowledgements

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Epilogue

About Natasha Bennet

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Back Cover Copy

Renolds Osirus spent most of his life as an accountant. To his shock, his life-long dream of becoming a spaceship captain is suddenly granted, and before he can even celebrate, Earth is decimated by a race of mysterious and terrifying aliens. His new ship, the Vigilant, is transported to hostile territory.

The Vigilant's first officer, Marcus Collingway, is a terrorist leader and a mass murderer. Long believed dead, he suffers the crew's wrath when he's blamed for the attack on Earth. As Renolds investigates, he exposes a complex web of secrets and lies.

Now trapped on a crippled ship, can the captain and first officer work together to save the Vigilant from alien Soulites?

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“You can't stop the Soulites, sir. They own this galaxy, and you still have no idea what they are. Just think, it took only one of their ships to do all this. So take some advice. Surrender while you still can. Because the path you're on will only result in more death. For you and for your crew. You know nothing about us. We know everything about you. You can't even see us, unless we want you to.”

“I don't want a war. I just want to return home. Our presence here is an accident,” Renolds said.

“Are you sure, Captain?” Neilson asked. “I'm guessing you don't even know the workings of your own people too well.”

Renolds didn't have an answer for that.

“As for home, that it something you will never see again. You're in way over your head. The more you understand, the more you will wish you didn't.” Neilson sneered at him. “You're a broken man on a broken ship. There's only one chance for your crew.”

“And what would that be?” Renolds demanded.

“Destroy the Vigilant with everyone on board.”

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War of the Soulites

By Natasha Bennett

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Lyrical Press, Incorporated

War of the Soulites

Copyright © 2009, Natasha Bennett

Edited by Emma Wayne Porter

Book design by Emma Wayne Porter and Renee Rocco

Cover Art by Renee Rocco

Lyrical Press, Incorporated

17 Ludlow Street

Staten Island, New York 10312

www.lyricalpress.com eBooks are not transferable. All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher's permission.

PUBLISHER'S NOTE:

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.

Published in the United States of America by Lyrical Press, Incorporated

First Lyrical Press, Inc. electronic publication: May, 2009

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Author Acknowledgements

Natasha Bennett would like to thank her family for their help and support, especially her mother, Nancy Bennett, for helping her edit the first draft. She would also like to thank the following people for their help and encouragement: her sister Amanda, her friend Corwin, and her father Richard Bennett. In addition, she would like to thank Campbell Orr for pointing out a few technical flaws.

In addition, she would like to acknowledge the staff and editors at Lyrical Press for publishing War of the Soulites.

Lastly, she would like to thank all her friends and coworkers for their support.

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Prologue

Current Year: 2820

The Battle of Cedar Hill

Very few people in the world could commit genocide without a hint of remorse. Marcus Collingway just happened to be one of them.

Religion had been destroyed a lifetime ago, and he stood in one of the few churches still partially intact. Around him, the ground was littered with yellow paper, smashed benches, and broken concrete. Shards of broken glass poked through the rotten carpet, and the statue of someone forgotten lay in pieces in front of a pedestal. After NAVA had taken over, scientists had declared the concept of God as ridiculous. When a person died, they were simply gone.

In the past fifty years, the government had wiped out all the houses, stores and buildings from the ground up, then refurnished them with steel and metal. Now the entire continent is one giant complex. The homes were designated crew quarters of personnel, the stores were online government commercialism, and the office buildings ... Well, the government really was just one massive office building where everything bought came from that company, including the air. NAVA was in charge of the entire population, officially responsible for global research, development, and recreation—everything. Yet they had left this church here, on a small hill overlooking the main headquarters as ... what? A symbol of its dying humanity?

Marcus stood in front of the altar, observing the rosewood cross with mild curiosity, but not much else. He hadn't really given much thought to God or an afterlife. Marcus was a soldier, and his life was simple. If he died and NAVA was destroyed, then he would die happy.

He could hear footsteps behind him.

“Are you ready for this?” Nathan asked.

Marcus turned around and smirked a little. “You know I am. Let's go.”

They both stepped across the soggy carpet and walked out of the small chapel. For years NAVA had dismissed the Resistance as nothing more than a scattered group of peasants. Now look at us, Marcus thought with pride. They were at NAVA's front door, ready to destroy them.

Nathan was the leader of the Resistance, and Marcus was second in command. Nobody hated NAVA as much as Marcus did, and few knew what was buried underneath the surface of NAVA, which channeled his hate. Nathan was twice Marcus's age and considered one of the most brilliant men alive. He had an equal passion to see NAVA end. Unlike Marcus, Nathan was imbued with a sense of patriotism. It was his charisma which had first formed the Resistance many years ago.

They exited the church. Beyond them were hundreds of acres with dark, rolling green hills and the occasional cedar tree. Marcus took out a pair of infrared binoculars. In the distance he could see the approaching soldiers NAVA had sent. Behind them sat the citadel of NAVA headquarters. “I count thousands. Just like we thought.”

“We have two hundred,” Nathan remarked.

The soldiers would reach them within the hour. It was close to midnight, and the sky was overcast. “Too bad they didn't bring more,” Marcus said. His light blue eyes burned with anticipation. “So, we stick to the plan, right? I go out to meet them?”

Nathan glanced at him. It was a suicide to meet the enemy alone, but Nathan wasn't the least bit surprised. Marcus wanted to be the reason for the deaths of countless thousands, and hate had nothing to do with it. Marcus could handle that kind of responsibility on his conscience, whereas Nathan would regret it every day for the rest of his life. “Let's go meet our troops.”

Marcus nodded in agreement. They walked through the field and up another hill to where a large group of men and women stood waiting. They were people Marcus had known personally for a very long time. Now he might never see them again.

Nathan must have known this too, for it was with sadness and pride that he spoke. “All right. You all know the situation. You all know the risks. The odds against us are great. Let's face it, when have they ever been good for us?”

Some of the men around them broke into nervous laughter. Off in the distance he could hear the faint sound of stomping: NAVA soldiers.

“Look, I don't need to tell you we're the good guys in this. The things NAVA has done over the years ... it's horrible. I also won't pretend and say everyone will make it through alive tonight. You deserve to be told better than that. Over the years we've been a family. I've never been prouder of this family than right here, today. If anyone here is afraid, just remember what we fight for.” Nathan was silent for a moment. “We fight for the victims who died in all those experiments. We fight for the millions of people wiped out for no reason. We fight to be free. We fight for a goddamn chance at a better life. Those are all causes to die for.”

No one spoke. After a moment a few men shook hands with Nathan. The women hugged and kissed him on the cheek. One by one, they departed.

Marcus watched them go, remembering each face.

Finally, only Nathan remained standing in front of him. The Resistance leader solemnly offered his hand and Marcus took it. With a clap on his shoulder, Nathan walked away to join the others. Eventually only Marcus was left alone on the field.

An hour later, the soldiers arrived.

* * * *

Marcus doused a small campfire, casting the whole field into darkness. For this to work, they couldn't see him too well. As the last drops of water spilled from the canister, he glanced to the right. NAVA's army was very close now. Each of them had a portable light attached to their wrist, lighting up the whole field with an endless blue glow. Thousands of men and women who wanted to take his life. He was almost worried.

By this time, Nathan and the others were a good distance from the campsite, a fact that gave Marcus some comfort. He stood and grabbed a flashlight from the ground. He flicked it a few times toward the approaching army. A few seconds later the signal was returned. Marcus released a held breath. They wouldn't kill him right away, they'd maybe talk first. He tossed aside the flashlight and waited.

Most of the army halted a kilometer away. A small group of soldiers walked toward the discarded campsite. They stopped just in front of Marcus and pointed their guns at him.

“Where are the others?” one of them demanded.

“Perhaps they've all fled!” another shouted. “We came all this way for nothing!”

There were a few muffled chuckles. They must have known it was too quiet. A lieutenant general, who was apparently the leader, saw this and gestured sharply with a finger across his throat. “No. They're hiding somewhere. Close by.”

At this, several people turned as if expecting to be ambushed at any second. Marcus looked up, calculating. Nathan and the others should be in position by now.

“Listen to me!” the lieutenant general shouted. “This is one last chance for all of you to lay down your arms and surrender! You know you're outnumbered! NAVA will treat all of you mercifully!”

“No,” Marcus corrected. He stepped forward, and his face was completely sincere. “This is your last chance. Go back to NAVA while you still can. Before you and your men have to die.”

Everyone laughed. The lieutenant general turned his head. “Shoot him.”

By the time the lieutenant general finished speaking, Marcus was already gone. He pushed a button on a remote concealed in his hand. The cable against his back tightened, and catapulted him backward. Air whistled against his body as bullets flew past him. He reached out with his arm and snagged the sturdy branches of the tree he was connected to. A second later he ran up the massive branch and pushed another button on the remote.

Below him the entire field lit up with a brilliant green glow. It was an extremely fast-acting toxin that would disperse within a couple of minutes.

Marcus climbed upward and opened the black duffle bag waiting in the branches. He took out a gas mask and breathed in a few deep breaths. Below him the NAVA soldiers shuddered and died. Marcus watched the countless deaths, feeling no satisfaction in what he had just done. It was necessary, but there was no escaping the fact that thousands of lives were now gone because of him. He really was a terrorist, a mass-murderer.

The remaining soldiers started to regroup. Marcus glanced down and noticed that the green clouds had disappeared entirely, casting the hilltop into darkness once more. Taking off his mask, Marcus used the pair of binoculars to spot Nathan in another tree. “Fire!”

Marcus took out an assault rifle from his bag and fired. The rest of the Resistance followed. They had the high ground and the NAVA army didn't.

Marcus wanted the battle to be over in minutes, but his hopes were soon dashed. Off in the distance he could see a glint of light. He lifted his binoculars and spotted a soldier talking on a radio. Swearing, Marcus jumped down from the tree and ran toward him.

To his left, a soldier moved to intercept him when a bullet to the neck stopped the man cold. Nathan was providing covering fire. Marcus signaled in sign language for trouble before resuming his run. Within seconds, he was in range and took out his handgun. Two shots, and the radio exploded. The radio operator-maintainer glanced around in dazed astonishment.

This was no time to be civil. Marcus shot him once in the kneecap. The radio operator cried out in pain and grabbed his leg.

“What did you tell NAVA?” Marcus demanded.

The radio operator didn't reply. Every few seconds he would take gasps of air but stared at Marcus with stubborn determination.

Marcus knew he should pull the trigger again. But he met the eyes of the older man and just couldn't do it. Not to an unarmed man.

“Marcus!” Nathan shouted behind him. “What is it?”

“I'm not sure,” Marcus admitted as he lowered his weapon. “Probably a call for reinforcements or—” He glanced up when he heard a sudden loud crackle. Something had launched from the NAVA citadel. A missile of some kind. “Overhead!”

Nathan turned. “Scatter!” he shouted. “Run!”

Everyone on the field scurried for cover, including the NAVA soldiers. Marcus ran as fast as he could, but he was too close to the blast radius. All of a sudden someone elbowed him in the head, and Marcus was thrown down. A body flew on top of him as the ground exploded.

Marcus opened his eyes to the smell of burning flesh and heat dancing near his face. There were at least three charred bodies lying on him, all NAVA soldiers. One stared at him with lifeless eyes. Marcus resisted the overwhelming urge to shove the bodies aside and instead, moved them off slowly. He removed a gun from a soldier's belt and clicked the safety off.

The entire area had been decimated. Off in the distance, he could hear gunfire and shouting. Marcus lifted his head and saw people running toward him. NAVA troops. Reinforcements from the city had arrived in the hundreds.

Seconds later, the entire battlefield lit up with gunfire. Marcus fired his gun at a woman to his right. The reinforcements were very close, and he was on the front lines, with the Resistance too far behind to help.

Marcus twisted his wrist beacon and aimed. A line of green light zoomed in on a NAVA blue uniform. He fired, and the soldier exploded in two. Marcus did the same for three others before his weapon ran out of power.

Two soldiers headed right for him. Marcus crouched down and fired his gun five times. Both soldiers fell before his gun clicked empty. He tossed it away and ran toward the bodies. A quick glance told him the other soldiers were still far away. Quickly, Marcus unbuttoned a soldier's dark-blue NAVA jacket and put it on. He stood and grabbed the rifle from the ground. “I killed one of them! There's only a few more left!”

The other NAVA soldiers nodded and ran right past him.

Suddenly he felt a solid hand on his shoulder and was face-to-face with the lieutenant general, commander of the enemy army. “Good work, son.”

Marcus swallowed nervously.

With a grin, the lieutenant general examined the fallen soldier and booted him over. A blond-haired corpse stared lifelessly at both of them. The officer looked up at Marcus, and his eyes suddenly narrowed.

Marcus was already on the move. He smashed the butt of his rifle against the man's head. The lieutenant general reeled backward. Marcus took out his knife and slit the man's throat. As he fell, Marcus grabbed his rifle and fired at the soldiers who had run past him. He killed fifteen before his gun clicked empty. Marcus ran up the hill, still holding onto the rifle. It was time to turn the tables. He spotted another radio and ran toward it.

“Operator,” a voice said as he switched it on.

“This is...” Marcus checked his jacket. “Sergeant Riley, number 453254. Requesting another air strike. We are badly outnumbered by the Resistance.”

“Acknowledged, 453254. Relay coordinates.”

Marcus gave coordinates to where most of the NAVA troops were located. The operator acknowledged again and gave him a two-minute warning. With nothing to lose, Marcus threw down the radio and ran for his life.

* * * *

Hours later, Marcus walked with a slight limp, and stopped as waves of pain ran through him. He was covered from head to toe in blood, most of it not his. In front of him stretched an endless field of bodies, both NAVA and Resistance alike. Slowly, he removed his NAVA jacket and tossed it aside. He needed to reach his people and help whoever was left.

Marcus heard a sudden noise, and lifted his gun. Standing behind and to his left was another survivor. The same radio operator from before. This time he was pointing a gun at Marcus.

For a moment, neither man did anything. Marcus stared right into the man's fearful blue eyes. The radio operator nervously adjusted his spectacles with one hand. His gun, however, was very steady. Marcus swallowed, knowing he had a little problem: His own gun was empty.

A sudden scream cut through the silence. Turning his head, Marcus lowered his weapon and ran to the right. He expected to be shot in the back, but wasn't. Soon the operator was far behind. Marcus stopped only to pick up a gun from a corpse.

It started to rain. Before he could reach the call for help, a noise made him falter. The sound sent shivers up his spine. Multiple whistles signaled that five missiles had been launched from the NAVA capital. Marcus finally understood. NAVA didn't care if their troops were destroyed, so long as the Resistance was annihilated.

The missiles flew past him and impacted against the Resistance's side of the field. Marcus saw a flash of light. Where there had been hundreds of fighting troops, he saw nothing but a massive ocean of blood. The ground shuddered beneath his feet. Both sides were almost annihilated. For a moment, there was silence. Then he heard the welcoming sound of gunfire.

Marcus ran down the hill. He needed to find Nathan. Was Nathan even alive? They had to fall back and come up with another plan.

Using his binoculars, he spotted the rebel leader in the distance, fighting hand-to-hand with another soldier. Marcus swore as he noticed a small blue light over Nathan's heart. “Sniper,” Marcus whispered. He ran forward but was pushed back by soldiers rushing toward him. “Nathan, sniper!”

Nathan turned to reply just as the sniper fired. The shot tore into his body and he dropped to the ground. The Resistance leader jerked only once.

With a scream of rage Marcus slammed his fist into the face of one of the soldiers and tried to move past them. Another blocked his path. Marcus punched the man's side and snapped the man's neck with both hands, dropping him lifelessly to the dirt.

Marcus's boots slid against the mud as he fell beside Nathan. He turned his face away as a grenade exploded. Already his hands were covered with Nathan's blood. “I can help you—”

“Marcus ... too late,” Nathan croaked. He reached up and tore off the key from his neck. The Resistance leader put it in Marcus's hand.

Marcus stared at him in horror.

Nathan managed a weak smile. “You're ... in command now, Marcus. You can do this. This key ... it's everything. You can be our next hope.... our last hope...” His gaze locked in place, and his voice stilled, forever.

Marcus closed his hand around the key as the NAVA soldiers circled around him. With a scream he lunged for the nearest soldier. They both collapsed together into the mud, and Marcus shot him. He glanced at the final members of the Resistance. “Give them everything you've got!”

With a enraged cry, the others did as they were ordered. They were still hopelessly outnumbered, but Marcus knew they had plenty of experience, whereas the NAVA soldiers had been drafted only last week. Even now the Resistance fighters moved with calm efficiency in the wake of Nathan's death. Marcus fired his weapon, never stopping. He watched as a female member of the Resistance coldly dodged a bullet fired at her, and then stabbed a man in the head with her knife.

Marcus stopped briefly to survey the battle. Resistance forces were cutting through the troops with absolutely no casualties. Despite everything that had happened, they were still beating NAVA! Marcus watched as the enemy fell back. Once they reached NAVA's gates, secret tunnels could take the Resistance to the very core of NAVA itself.

All of a sudden, everything collapsed around him.

A high-pitch shriek entered Marcus's mind. The pain was more intense than anything he had ever felt before in his life. He fell to the ground and dropped his gun. The rest of the Resistance did the same. The NAVA soldiers were merciless. They opened fire on his troops and spared no one. NAVA never did take prisoners.

With a grimace of pain Marcus looked up and saw that behind the NAVA soldiers were people standing motionless in a line. He knew who they were. Telepaths. He despised them. Marcus grabbed his gun and struggled to his feet. He fired once and was pleased to see one of them fall. The pain from his mind was abruptly gone as the other telepaths recoiled in shock.

Marcus straightened up, but knew it was over. He stood on a hilltop, surrounded by NAVA troops. Of the Resistance, not a single member was left except for him. They had lost.

Marcus took in deep gulps of air, but nothing seemed to help. He still had one bullet left in his gun. The enemy closed in around him. They were watching to see what he would do next.

Marcus closed his eyes, and the key fell from his hand into the mud below.

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Chapter 1

Current Year: 2831

NAVA Military Vessel Vigilant

Being the captain of a spaceship had a lot of benefits, which included owning quarters the size of a small house. On the second level was a lounge where two cushioned chairs sat next to a tea-table before a wide window looking out into space. A selection of environmental controls provided anything from a tranquil Hawaiian breeze to a strong sea gale. Catering to his refreshments was a buffet table, and in the holes were his favorites—salads, plum sauce and chicken legs. Individual compu-heaters and fans kept his food always at the right temperatures.

The first level held his private office. It was here that Captain Renolds Osirus sat behind his desk, reading an assortment of papers through a pair of small spectacles. He wrote on one of them with careful precision. The doors chimed and he said in a quiet voice, “Come in.”

The doors opened, and Admiral Yates stepped through. She was a slim woman, French in origin, who moved with an air of determination and confidence. Her black hair was tied back in a braid and the dark-green color of her uniform illuminated her pale jade eyes. Like all personnel, including him, she had a gun resting in a holster strapped to the left side of her black belt.

“Captain,” she said. “May I be the first to offer you my congratulations?”

“Thank you, Admiral. I appreciate that,” Renolds replied, standing and putting his pencil down. Considering it took me fifteen years to get this position, he thought. “What about my ... other request?”

“Ah, yes. I have here an order for you to dismiss Lieutenant Commander Telsia Silva by any and all means necessary. Others have lined up for her position, but so far have been unsuccessful due to her stubbornness.”

“She'll be off the ship within the hour,” Renolds promised.

Admiral Yates folded her arms. “As I understand it, you have yet to fill the medical and executive positions.”

“Well, the medical position I've already decided on. Dr. Jeffrey Neilson will be boarding the next shuttle.”

Yates raised her eyebrow in surprise. “Dr. Neilson?”

“Yes. I haven't met him, but apparently he's the best in his field. Have you met him?”

“He is a wiry man, Captain. Easy to startle. Unquestionably brilliant, but a nervous man nevertheless. You should be well on your guard,” Yates explained with an almost-hidden smirk.

Renolds opened his briefcase and took out a blue folder. “I've narrowed the position of first officer to five people. I'm giving them their last interviews today, but I think—”

“That will be unnecessary. NAVA command has already filled the position for you.” She handed him a black folder.

Renolds quickly skimmed through it in puzzlement. “Is this a joke?”

“I see nothing humorous.”

Renolds met her eyes. “This can't be the same person I'm thinking of.”

“And if it is?”

“Marcus Collingway,” Renolds stated. “The second in command of the resistance.”

“That was eleven years ago. A lot has happened since the war. Commander Marcus Collingway has defected. In fact, he has been working on our side for the past five years.”

“Serving on my ship...?” Renolds took a long moment to calm himself. Even after that moment, his voice choked almost beyond recognition. “The man's a murderer. A butcher! He has no right to even set foot on my ship, let alone serve as second in command! I thought he was dead.”

“The decision is final, Captain. And not yours. He has long since proven his loyalty to us.”

“And you believe him?”

“I have no reason to doubt it,” Admiral Yates said calmly. “He is part of your crew, Captain Osirus. This order comes from the highest station that not even I can question. And here is my personal advice for you—suck it up.” She turned to leave.

Renolds read the folder again, astonishment in his eyes. It didn't help that several pages of the report were blacked out.

Admiral Yates hesitated, then turned back to face him. “If it's any consolation, Captain, I understand the feeling is mutual. He is not exactly thrilled to be serving under you.” She saluted. “Captain Osirus, I look forward to your departure.”

Still smirking, the admiral left his office.

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Chapter 2

“Vigilant, this is shuttle one, requesting clearance to dock,” the pilot said calmly.

A female voice answered, “Acknowledged, shuttle one. Stand by for final docking procedures.”

The pilot keyed in the final sequence. Behind him, the only passenger had not spoken a word during the entire trip. He stared out the window, and empty space stared back at him. NAVA had explored the galaxy to the fullest, or so they had claimed. There was no mystery, no more magic left, just a collection of dead empty stars.

Almost as empty as Mark felt.

Mark turned away from the window to examine the pilot, a skinny kid with blond hair and blue eyes, wearing the typical dark blue jacket and black pants of NAVA. Everything about NAVA had to be blue, including the interior of the shuttle. The Vigilant was probably the same.

There were no pips on the pilot's collar, signifying a cadet or ensign. Mark noticed a gray metallic dot on the side of his temple: a symbiot. Mark had only heard a little about them. It meant the cadet's brain co-existed with a living computer, one of Earth's latest technological wonders.

The cadet also had a weapon attached to his belt. But Mark had to hand it to the kid—if the kid was nervous, he was doing a remarkable job of hiding it. In fact, he was chatting away as though he had never heard of the Resistance before in his lifetime.

“This ship isn't new. Eighteen years ago, it carried the very first NAVA crew in existence. The best of the best, you could say. The Vigilant was instrumental in charting the galaxy. Then ... something happened to it. No one knows what exactly. A radiation leak or perhaps an invasion from another race possessing the crew. There are some among NAVA that can...”

One of the many races controlled, managed and filed neatly away, Mark thought, but did not interrupt.

“Whatever the reason, the crew turned on each other. Murdered each other horribly. When the ship made its way back to NAVA command on autopilot, there was only one surviving crewmember on board. Again details are classified, but I do know that our own security chief is the one. You don't want to ask her about it, believe me. We've been working together for a few months now, and she's difficult enough when you're talking about the weather.”

Mark said absolutely nothing as he thought about what Carl had said. The previous crew of the Vigilant had died, and now he was supposed to help lead the new generation. Funny how things worked out. Not that he expected much from the current personnel on the Vigilant. They were probably no different from the cadet—young, and inexperienced.

“Anyway, there were scans done, instrumental, telepathic, that sort of thing. Whatever caused the problem is long gone. And now the ship's been refitted with the newest technology. Doesn't seem like a day old...” He trailed off when he realized he'd lost Mark's attention. “Um, Commander?”

Mark glanced out the window. They could see the ship now. The Vigilant was exactly the same as the rest of NAVA-command ships, except this one had the faint signs of battle gracing a hull that was only partially covered with gray paint. “It's not as big as the picture.”

The cadet lifted an eyebrow. “That's true. Since the Vigilant is now meant for planetary defense and not deep-space exploration, they removed several levels and compressed the hull. How did you know that?”

“Because not a lot escapes my attention these days. Like you, for example. No, offense...” Mark glanced once at the nametag on the cadet. “Carl, but I don't need some easily expendable ensign who's armed and trying to push up the ranks by accepting a once-in-a-lifetime mission to escort a dangerous ex-fugitive. Besides, you don't have to worry.” He focused his attention again on the window. “Frankly, if I wanted to kill you, you'd be dead before your body even hit the ground.”

Carl grinned. “Well, I'm glad you're not being escorted by someone like that. You see, I'm the ship's new chief engineer. Carl Davids. A pleasure to meet you.”

Mark could only stare at him in surprise.

* * * *

A few minutes later the locks released with a slow hiss. The door opened, and Carl and Mark stepped out of the airlock. As predicted, the interior of the ship was blue with some very ugly black doors. Renolds Osirus waited for them, his arms crossed across his chest. As soon as he saw the chief engineer, he grinned. “Hi, Carl.”

“Hey, Captain,” Carl greeted. “How are those engines coming along?”

“All they needs is your approval. Check them over once more, give me a report, and then get some rest. We ship out very soon.”

Carl looked at him for a moment. “The order came through for Telsia?”

“Yeah.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“I'm going to take care of it.”

Carl snorted. “Good luck!” He stared at both the captain and first officer, who hadn't said a single word to each other. “See you both soon.”

Mark watched as Carl walked out. That gave Renolds time to take a good look at his new first officer. He wore black jeans and a short-sleeved black shirt. Clean shaven, with short brown hair. Something was very strange about his eyes. They were a dark shade of blue Renolds had never seen before.

Mark removed his duffel bag from his shoulder. It fell to the ground in a heap.

“Come with me,” Renolds ordered. He escorted Mark back to his quarters. The first officer's strange eyes seemed to take in everything, and they revealed very little. Renolds tried but couldn't keep the disgust for what this man represented out of his head. The captain saw the same disgust reflected in Mark, and had a good idea why. Renolds Osirus was hardly soldier material. He was a new captain in his early forties, perhaps a little short and chubby around the middle. Mark, on the other hand, didn't look any different from ten years ago.

As soon as they entered his office, Renolds tried to keep his tone official. “Would you like something to eat?”

“No.”

“Something to drink? Wine?”

For a long time Mark didn't say anything. Renolds got the impression that he was trying to be intimidating.

“No.”

Renolds cleared his throat as he sat down behind his desk. He tried to grab a pen, but his hands were shaking so much in anger that he soon gave up. “I have some papers you need to sign.”

Mark studied the massive quarters. “So how is it that your chief engineer is not any particular rank and yet holds a vital position on board this ship?”

“Chief Engineer Davids is highly experienced in his field. More so because he has an artificial intelligence in his head called a symbiot. His IQ is more than either yours or mine.” He permitted himself a small smile. “Or combined. But, Symbocom is a branch of NAVA not officially recognized within military ranks. It is only because of my request that he is here.”

Renolds opened a folder as the grandfather clock chimed upstairs, signaling the hour. Only seven hours until launch. “Let's talk about you. Obviously, I can't vouch for your safety. But then, in your record, you're classified as ‘highly dangerous’ so I doubt it'll be a problem.” He stared at the first officer, allowing anger to flare in his eyes.

After a minute, Mark snorted. “Are we having a staring contest now, Renolds?”

“I don't expect you to know this, but I had a sister who was a radio technician. The base she was stationed on was destroyed in the war.”

There was another long pause.

“Contrary to what you may think,” Mark said, “I didn't kill every single person involved in the war eleven years ago. Was there a point to this story other than your failed attempt to inspire guilt and compassion for you, or are we swapping family history? Because I have a sister who sells hot dogs in Iowa if we want to talk about her next.”

“I'll be damned if I know how a son of a bitch like you became the first officer to my ship.”

“And you're not going to. That's classified.”

“I'd like to see that file,” Renolds said.

“Sorry. All files leading up to that file are classified, too.”

The captain gritted his teeth. “I can order you off the ship.”

Mark rolled his eyes toward the ceiling. “No, you seriously can't. But good luck trying.”

“You don't think much of me, do you, Commander?”

“What if I don't?”

“We're going to be working together. I'd like to know what you think. And, I'm sure that's not classified.”

While Renolds filled a glass with brandy, Mark said, “Fine. Here's what I'm thinking. I've seen your kind before. You're afraid of taking risks. You prefer to sit behind a desk and let others do your work for you. I think you've been a pencil pusher all your life. Even though you lost your sister, you really have no idea how precious some things are. The life you know might just as easily be gone the next day. I'm not sure how you made it up the command chain, but it was probably some big break on your part. And I'm not really surprised it took this long. You know, being a spineless coward and all.”

Renolds finished pouring the drink and took a good, long sip. “Well, at least I can count on an honest opinion from my first officer. That's good. Are you sure you won't have some brandy, Commander? It really is an excellent year.” He stood. “No? Then it's time to give you a run-down of your duties on board my ship.” He left the office feeling that he would need the brandy for many conversations to come with his first officer.

A moment later Mark followed, shaking his head. Both officers were oblivious to three sets of eyes watching from the ceiling.

[Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter 3

It was a design flaw of the Vigilant to have only three shuttle bays to ferry more than five hundred people from Earth. After each shuttle departure, the maintenance crew had only fifteen minutes to make sure the crew had disembarked, and to clear the floor of any debris.

High above on the metal walkway, a woman watched the crew scurry below like ants. Many crew members had said that to look at this woman was to see the very avatar of fear. She wore a jet-black uniform with the only hint of color being her dark-gray collar and shoulders. Her short brown hair was pulled back in a sharp bun. The woman's eyes glinted like steel, and there was no expression on her face as she watched the shuttles dock.

Holding a clipboard in her hands, Telsia barely gave the new officers a passing glance. She was waiting for one shuttle in particular, one entering the docking bay at this very moment. Silently she watched as the shuttle landed. As the engines shut off, Telsia's nails curled into the paper. She walked down the steps to the first level to meet them.

The passengers exited the shuttle. Since these people were not officially part of NAVA, they were not required to wear any type of uniform. Even so, most of them chose to wear blue.

Except for one.

The very first person to leave the shuttle carried a backpack and wore a purple shirt and black pants. She had long, straight brown hair and brown eyes. Silver earrings twinkled from her ears and there was a happy smile on her lips as she glanced around the shuttle bay.

“Step over here, please,” Telsia ordered, her voice as cold and brittle as ice. She consulted the clipboard. “Welcome to the Vigilant. I trust your visit here will be productive. If not, you will be disembarked. Your ID card?”

The woman handed it over, probably not hearing a word Telsia had just said.

Telsia cleared her throat and swiped ‘Elizabeth Dawson’ into the registry. She noticed the woman still scanning the room. “What's the matter? Did you expect a full platoon followed by a marching band to greet you?”

“No, it's just ... I've heard so many things about this ship! I'm really excited to be here,” Elizabeth said.

Telsia smiled a little. “First time on a spaceship?”

“Why yes, actually.”

Telsia handed the card back, wishing she knew why the captain wanted these things aboard. “Make it your last. Your access is restricted to C deck only. Move it. You're holding up the line.”

When she swiped the next card, the name Myers Holland flashed on her clipboard. “Access is restricted to C deck only.”

The man in question, who was short with brown hair and ivy-green eyes, stared back at her. The corners of his lips lifted into a smirk.

Telsia didn't hesitate. She took out her gun and shot him in the foot.

As the man fell to one side, Telsia waved away the medics. Elizabeth's eyes were wide with horror.

Telsia raised her eyebrow as she turned back to the lineup. “Next?”

* * * *

It was the captain's responsibility to check in the remainder of the senior staff. The first person on the list was Dr. Jeffrey Neilson, the new chief medical officer. Renolds knew very little about the man. Neilson's personnel file contained only a brief bio. Apparently he had spent most of his life as a genetic scientist on Earth, and this was his first time off world. Admiral Yates had said the guy was high strung, and Renolds would have preferred to conduct this interview without a mass-murderering first officer looming at his side. Unfortunately, Mark was curious to meet the senior staff, and Renolds couldn't think of a good enough reason in time to deny his request.

As the doors opened, he and Mark were assaulted with a strange and horrendous smell. It took Renolds a moment to recognize it as fertilizer. He could see dozens of boxes on the ground, and surgical beds as well as several scientific samples strewn about the place. A loud crash broke his contemplations as the sole occupant of the room dropped a tray, spilling surgical instruments everywhere.

The man was far too thin, bordering on malnutrition. His skin was pale, and he had short, greasy black hair and sharp blue eyes that never stayed in one place for more than a second.

Renolds exchanged a look with Mark and received a shrug in return.

The man wiped his hands with a towel. “S-sorry, Captain. I d-didn't expect you so soon.” He gave them the NAVA salute. “Um ... did I do that right?”

Renolds forced a smile. “You did just fine. I'm Captain Renolds Osirus.”

The doctor shook his hand. “Neilson. Jeffrey Neilson. And, may I say it's a great ple-pleasure to meet you. A huge h-honor.”

“Why?” Renolds asked, honestly perplexed.

“I-I-I atten-n-nded your semin-n-nar, of course.”

“I didn't realize anybody had been there,” Renolds said, flattered in spite of himself.

“Oh yes. V-very e-en-enlightening.”

Mark noisily cleared his throat.

Renolds looked away. “My first officer. Commander Marcus Collingway.” He winced a little. Saying those words felt like ash in his mouth.

“Just Mark is fine. Quite a stutter you have there, Jeff.”

“I've h-had it since I w-was a kid,” Neilson said coldly. He turned to Renolds. “And please, s-sir, call me Neilson. Everyone else does.”

“Well, I hope you have no trouble settling in,” Renolds said.

“Oh, no, everyone on this ship is v-very nice. Well, maybe the quarters could be a lot bigger and I think there's something wrong with the heating system and ... Yes, s-sir, no troub-ble at all. I l-love my quarters. I love my job,” Neilson finished weakly.

“What are these?” Mark asked, lifting a plastic globe from the tray.

Neilson paled. He ran over to Mark and took the globe from his hand. “These are Xenomorp-phic plants. Very rare. They are able to make O-2.”

“O-2?” Renolds inquired.

“Oxygen. The stuff you breathe, sir,” Mark jabbed. “Or what NAVA pumps into the vents these days, anyway. How were you able to do this?”

Neilson was searching for any cracks in the globe. “Genetic enhancements. If they grow right, one day they might actually be trees.”

Renolds had a problem with this. “I hope you aren't planning to grow a forest in the medical bay, doctor.”

“Oh no, sir! I would put them all on a plan-planet, of course.”

“Ideally, the one that got rid of all their trees. Like NAVA did on Earth two years ago,” Mark added.

Renolds shot him an irritated look. “Thank you, doctor, for the demonstration. It was most informative. Mark, come with me.” It was only when they were out the door did he glare at Mark. “Are you always like this?”

“Like what?” Mark asked innocently.

* * * *

There was one final officer Renolds needed to check in with. Or rather, check out. He had declined to bring Mark, but he wouldn't mind a whole squadron of troops to watch his back while he dragged this woman off the Vigilant.

Renolds reached the security door, hesitated, and keyed in the command override code. The door opened.

Most of the security center had yet to be set up. Over half of the screens were spitting static. A leather chair was turned away from Renolds, but he could see her black high-heeled boots resting on the desk. Renolds stared at her. “I gotta say you don't know when to quit.”

The chair swirled around and revealed the security chief. It was hard to determine her exact age, but Telsia still had a full head of chestnut-brown hair with only a slight tinge of gray. Her face was pale and marred with hard lines. “Osirus.”

Renolds straightened. “I have a signed order from NAVA command to escort you off this ship. You're not part of this crew. Not anymore.”

Telsia held out her hand. “May I see that?”

Renolds handed it over. Telsia glanced at it before tearing the paper into long strips, slowly. Her pale eyes looked right through him.

Renolds sighed when she tossed the shreds into a wastebasket. “That's not my only copy. Look, Telsia, I'm trying to do this as painlessly as I can. But you can't stay here. Every single position has been filled except for this one. You're scaring your replacement.”

Telsia regarded him for a moment, and then slowly stood. “If the replacement is frightened by me in the first place, then he or she is obviously not very good. Let's cut the crap, Captain. It's within your power to pull strings to keep people aboard. You did the same for Chief Engineer Davids because he was your friend. You'll do the same for me.”

Renold searched, but he couldn't find a reason. “Why?”

“You have nothing less than a dysfunctional crew with no one to keep them in line. A first officer who was instrumental in killing thousands of our people, and a doctor who stutters. I hear he can't even keep his hands straight. Not to mention...” She looked away. “Telepaths. Why do you need me? Simple. You need me to sort out the bullshit. So, am I staying or not?”

[Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter 4

Dozens of lights flashed against Mark's eyes as reporters took pictures of all the senior officers who were on the bridge—Renolds, Telsia, Carl, and Neilson. Mark hated it, but he said nothing, especially since the people next to him were burning with pride. The only exception to this was the newly reinstated security chief. He stole a quick glance at her and received a scowl in return. Mark raised his eyebrows as he looked away. The woman was dangerous.

He watched as Renolds stepped up to a crudely placed podium next to the navigational station. Trouble was, it was placed on slanted ground and tipped to the right. After a few unsuccessful attempts to move it to a more stable location, Renolds gave up. “The ground's too bumpy,” he said to the audience.

Carl lowered his head and tried not to laugh. “We won't be needing photos of this.”

The captain began his speech. “As of this moment, my ship, the Vigilant, will officially come out of retirement. Our primary mission will be to transport and aid in the defense of our great leaders. This ship has had a very dark history. Let's see if we, the future, can change that. We invite you all to share with us the moment of our departure.” He stepped down from the podium.

Mark moved away from the captain. He really hated the press. Fortunately, NAVA had kept a sealed lid on them ever since the war, and they weren't permitted to ask any questions. It was more stifling of personal freedom, but one Mark could appreciate for once. He watched as Carl, Telsia and Neilson left the bridge.

To his left, the operations officer, Ensign Hannah Daniels, started the final diagnostic. “All systems check out. We're ready to launch.”

“Good,” Renolds said. He activated the internal communications to engineering. “Lieutenant Ordias, how are we doing down there?”

The lieutenant's voice came through the intercom, clear as a bell. “We're as ready as we'll ever be, Captain. Just say the word.”

“Understood.”

Renolds glanced at the view screen. “Begin launch sequence.”

As soon as he said those words, the bridge became a blur of activity.

Hannah said, “Command control, this is the Vigilant. Ready to start departure sequence in one minute.”

“Starting up final sequence. Ready to accept authorization codes,” a female voice replied.

“This is Captain Renolds Osirus. Authorization ten-gamma-three-eighteen.”

“Authorization accepted. Stand by for final launch countdown.”

“Captain,” Hannah announced. “We're ready to leave space dock.”

“Let's go,” Renolds ordered.

Hannah keyed in the final sequence. The docking clamps released with a hiss. The ship trembled, and then slowly started to move.

Mark looked at Renolds. The captain didn't say a word, his face beaming with pride.

* * * *

Sixteen hours after launch, Elizabeth Dawson heard the voices again.

Her quarters were horrible, but that was to be expected. There was only a very small bed, a sink, and nothing else. If she stretched out far enough, her fingertips could just touch both walls. There was no heating, and no light. Elizabeth dropped her backpack onto the bed. At first, she decided to get some sleep, but then debated whether to explore the ship instead. Or at least the areas that she had access to.

She heard a voice. Her telepathic abilities reached out to search the immediate area, but couldn't find anything. “Hello?”

Elizabeth!

Elizabeth left her quarters and followed the voice. There was no one in the hall, and her fellow telepaths were all asleep. After some searching, she trailed the voice below deck to the crew quarters and escape pods. The whispering grew louder.

She climbed down a ladder. The section was apparently still in need of some maintenance. There was no illumination save for a live cable hanging from the ceiling, providing occasional flashes of light. The gray carpeting had been burned away to reveal metal interior patches. The entire area smelled of garbage. Elizabeth plugged her nose, startled by how everything was left untouched. More than that, she sensed something terribly wrong with this area. The plaque on the wall read Deck G, Section 28.

The hall led to a closed airlock. After making sure there was no one else around, Elizabeth decided to do an telepathic scan. She lifted her hand and reached out with her senses. After a minute, she saw colors of emotion that had been here, emotions so powerful they remained after a very long period of time. A passive white light burned in front of her eyes. She was right. There had been death here at some point. A lot of it. She turned to leave.

Elizabeth!

The telepath took a step forward; She moved slowly, already nervous of the aurora of pain surrounding her. It was as though misery and death were seeping out of the walls and carpet toward her. As soon as she navigated past the rubble, she hurried down the hall.

When the telepath reached the end, the whispers stopped. Bewildered, she turned to the left and right, but could feel and hear nothing. Only the steady hum of the ship's engines. For a moment, she wasn't sure what to do. It would be a good idea to tell the captain about this, but by law, telepaths weren't allowed on the bridge or even permitted to speak with any of the senior officers.

Her eyes narrowed. To hell with the rules. She had to tell someone.

* * * *

“So, basically we're going to do a short run around Jupiter before returning to Earth,” Renolds said, sipping a cup of tea in his quarters.

“And that's all?” Mark asked.

“Were you expecting something else?”

Mark didn't answer. Instead, he looked up at the ceiling. Was it just his imagination, or did he actually see something? A split second later, his attention focused back on Renolds when the captain cleared his throat.

“There's a reception at oh-nine hundred hours, but...” Renolds trailed off.

“But I wouldn't be welcome,” Mark finished. “Right?”

There was a moment of uneasy silence between the two, broken by the sound of a chime.

“Come in,” Renolds said.

The doors opened, and Elizabeth entered, gasping for air. As soon as her eyes settled on Mark, images flashed through her mind. Flashes of fire, blood and pain. She could see people dying. The NAVA symbol burning against a dark screen. An endless core of green light...

“Get out of my head, telepath.”

Mark's words had the effect of freezing water upon her mind. Elizabeth resurfaced and blinked a few times. The reason she had come was soon lost. Instinctively, she tried to get into his mind again, but it was closed. It would take a far more powerful telepath to toss her away so easily ... but Elizabeth could also sense that Mark had no telepathic abilities whatsoever.

Mark stared at her and revealed nothing.

Renolds observed them, utterly bewildered. “Did you want something?”

“Captain, I'm sorry to bother you, sir.” She began to shake a little as she realized the full extent of what she was doing, and the potential consequences. “There's something you should know.” The telepath hesitated and stared at Mark.

Renolds followed her gaze. “Thank you, Mark. We'll talk later.”

“Fine. I'll be in my quarters.”

Renolds waited until he had gone. “What is it?”

“I've been ... hearing things, sir.”

“Hearing things?”

“Whispering. They lead somewhere, and then they just stop.”

“And how is it that you're able to hear them?”

“I'm a telepath, sir. Level three,” Elizabeth confessed.

Renolds frowned. “Telepaths are not allowed—”

“Yes, sir. I know it was wrong! But I felt that I had to warn you. There's someone on this vessel. Someone that's not part of this crew.”

* * * *

Even though it couldn't compare to the captain's quarters, the size of an executive officer's quarters were still massive. Mark had four rooms: a bedroom, a kitchen, a small office, and a living room. He sat on his bed and stared at several NAVA uniforms hanging in his closet. Uniforms he would never wear. If he could, he would burn each and every one of them.

Mark looked down. Even the bed felt too soft, too comfortable. He hated it. After a moment, he stood. Perhaps a tour of the ship would be in order.

As soon as he left the quarters, the lights ahead of him died out, followed by those behind him. The last light shut off and he was alone in a pitch-black hallway. The first officer stopped. Goose bumps ran up and down his arms from a sudden cold. He spotted something scurrying along the ceiling.

* * * *

Renolds took off his reading glasses. He glanced at Elizabeth and sighed. “This is your first time on a spaceship isn't it?”

Elizabeth nodded, a little nervously.

“First time in an enclosed space?” Renolds lifted the glass paperweight off his desk. “It sounds to me like you're just hearing ... too many thoughts jumbled together. I'm sure it can't be easy, but I also have faith that you'll get used to it.”

“Captain, I don't think that's what I'm hearing. Well ... Maybe, I guess.”

“Good. Was there anything else?”

“No. Thank you, sir,” Elizabeth muttered, and quickly left.

Out into the hall, she heard the voices again. Only this time they were louder and more insistent. Elizabeth gave a startled gasp as the lights plunged out.

* * * *

In his office Renolds shifted in his chair as the lights turned off. He was not amused. “Computer. Locate Commander Marcus Collingway.”

“Marcus Collingway is on deck eight, section C,” a male computerized voice supplied.

The captain got up and put his paperweight on the desk. Collingway was near engineering. Before he left, Renolds removed the gun from his belt and took off the safety.

* * * *

“The captain's not going to be happy about this,” Carl muttered. Engineering was pitch-black except for the occasional flickers of red light from the reactor core. Carl climbed a ladder and handled an assortment of wiring, using the aid of a small flashlight. “Anything?”

Below him, Lieutenant Leeman Ordias shook his head. Mexican in origin, the assistant engineer had a hint of white in his brown hair. Carl knew Ordias was originally supposed to be the chief engineer, until Carl's transfer. However, the two men had also known each other for a long time, and neither held a grudge. “Nothing yet.”

Carl took the flashlight out of his mouth. “Dammit. What could be causing this?” A sudden noise made him lift his head. He wasn't sure what he had heard, but it sounded like ... scuttling. He moved his flashlight across the wall.

“What is it?” Ordias asked.

“Hold on a sec. There's something in here with us. Another life form.” The chief engineer climbed back up the ladder and drew his gun. Carl stepped forward cautiously. Ordias and a third Engineer, Yimmins, hurried up the ladder behind him.

Carl could hear the scuttling again, this time in a closed locker. He opened it with his free hand.

With a shriek, a rat scurried out of the locker.

“Um ... was that what you heard?” Ordias asked.

“No.” Carl had a feeling there was something watching them.

Suddenly all of them jumped as the humming of the engine abruptly stopped. Ordias gasped as his flashlight skimmed against the reactor core. “Carl...”

Carl turned around. Black liquid seeped into the normally red containment lines. He lowered his gun in astonishment. Around them the control panels flickered, then died.

“The power's going,” Yimmins said as all three of them climbed down the ladder.

“Oh my God,” Ordias groaned. “It'll take us days to clean up this mess!”

Yimmins frowned. “Sir, to flood this amount of containment would take hours. How come no alarms went off? Why didn't we even see it?”

For once in his life, Carl had no answers.

* * * *

Mark took out a small circular scanner from his belt. There was definitely something moving across the ceiling. It was too dark to make out clearly, but Mark could see tiny red eyes and green veins that glowed with an inner light. Long strands brushed against his cheek as the alien shifted past him. The creature took no notice of the first officer as it continued to move silently along the ceiling.

For a few minutes, Mark followed the alien as the green light from his scanner illuminated the passageway. With a glance down, he noticed the scanner wasn't picking up anything. Mark tapped it a few times to widen the range. A transparent emerald bubble passed from his scanner and expanded to include both passageways. A second later it vanished.

He felt a hand touch his shoulder.

“What are you doing?” Renolds demanded. “This is nowhere near your quarters!”

Mark turned calmly to face him. “There's something here on this ship. Can't you see it?”

“See what?”

Mark moved his eyes slowly upward. Renolds didn't seem to notice the alien above him on the ceiling, nor the growing patch of drool on his shoulder. The thing had a small row of razor-sharp teeth, visible even in the dark.

Renolds frowned. “What are—”

The ship rocked violently to the left, and Mark and Renolds were hurled against the wall. They crashed with a thud to the floor. Renolds grabbed his shoulder and winced. Mark glanced around, but didn't see the creature.

The intercom sparked to life. “Captain? Captain, are you there?”

Renolds struggled to his feet and answered, “What's happening?”

“We're under attack!”

Renolds glanced at Mark. “On our way!”

* * * *

Alarms greeted Renolds as they stepped onto the bridge a moment later. “Report!”

“Unknown ship approaching,” Hannah announced. “It just appeared on the sensors a minute ago.”

The captain glanced at the view screen. Approaching them was a type of ship he had never seen before in his life, and it wasn't alone. At least thirty more trailed behind it. As they flew past the screen, the vessels were barely visible to the human eye. They moved like shadows with only a faint green outline around the hull. “Is this some kind of simulation? Some kind of test?”

“I ... don't know,” Hannah stammered.

The elevator doors opened. No one noticed Elizabeth stepping onto the bridge.

“Turn off that alarm,” Renolds demanded, and Hannah obliged. “What kind of ship is that?”

From his station Mark shook his head. “It's not from any current database, NAVA or otherwise.”

“What about sensor readings?”

“Our sensors can't penetrate their hull,” Mark replied.

Renolds focused his attention on the view screen. Suddenly one alien ship spat out wave after wave of green fire, engulfing a NAVA ship and destroying it. One of their own tried to fire on the alien ship with conventional weapons, and had no success.

“Captain, I'm getting a dozen distress signals from our fleet,” Hannah informed him.

That snapped Renolds into action. “Battle stations. Charge up the weapons. Activate the defense shielding. And inform security that we have an intruder on this ship.” He glanced at the view screen again. They were close enough to see tiny red lights along the alien ship's hull. A hull that was constantly moving. He felt dizzy and sick just watching it.

One of the alien ships started firing on a NAVA vessel next to the Vigilant.

“Power up the weapons! Get that energy shield up!” Renolds ordered.

Hannah moved to comply. “Controls aren't responding.”

“What?” Renold demanded. He activated the internal communications. “Carl, what's happening down there?”

Static answered back.

“Captain, I'm reading a massive power drain,” Hannah reported. “On all levels.”

“Get me communications! Get me something, Miss Daniels!”

Before she could reply, every single light on the bridge died out.

“What's happening?” Renolds demanded.

“Controls are down for good! I can't restore power!” Hannah said.

On the view screen one of the alien ships turned toward them.

Renolds glared at Mark, his meaning clear. Somehow, I know this is your fault. You've killed us all!

[Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter 5

Mark's lips compressed into a smirk. Even if they died in the next few minutes, he was definitely enjoying this. NAVA had grown far too complacent over the years. After the defeat of the Resistance, they thought they were the big, bad, undisputed force in the galaxy. He was glad to see that image gone. It was too bad the galaxy had fallen prey to something even worse than NAVA.

One of their own battle cruisers came out of nowhere and fired on the alien vessel. Mark recognized it as the Prejudice. Most battle-class ships had two types of weaponry: conventional and one termed ‘the cannon'. He had rarely seen a NAVA ship fire the cannon before, and to see it now was incredible. A beam of pure blue energy shot toward the alien ship. At the last second it veered away, and the beam punched straight through its port hull. Mark knew the cannon needed two minutes to recharge. That was more than enough time for the alien ship to turn to Prejudice and exact swift retribution.

Prejudice exploded in flame. Mark suddenly realized they were too close to Prejudice and the resulting shock wave would explode against the Vigilant's hull. He braced himself, the others did not. Renolds was thrown backward, and the captain's skull connected against the railing with a very audible crack. The rest of the crew was tossed around the bridge.

Mark watched as hundreds of alien ships attacked Earth. Multiple explosions followed and didn't seem to stop. While the NAVA fleet might have had more power, it had also been ten years since they had fought in any sort of war. They couldn't seem to get organized enough to mount an effective defense. The alien ships easily slipped between the gaps in the NAVA fleet and headed straight for Earth.

“We've completely lost all power. This shouldn't have happened,” Hannah said. “I can't get it back!”

“Get down to engineering. See what's going on down there!” Mark ordered.

As he spoke, his breath crystallized. Behind him Elizabeth shivered.

Hannah moved to follow Mark's orders, then stopped. “Sir ... look.”

Mark turned to the view screen, and saw more destruction of Earth. The entire planet was engulfed in fire. “What systems do we have?”

“Sir, absolutely nothing is working,” the navigator replied. “Not even life support.”

Mark observed the endless attack on Earth without expression; it was a sight he would never, ever forget. The floor suddenly trembled and lowered with a sickening lurch. “What's happening?”

Hannah moved back to her station. “We're caught in the wake of the alien's warp trail.”

At first Mark didn't comprehend. Then he saw it. The alien ship damaged earlier was trying to escape in some kind of green vortex. Somehow the Vigilant had been pulled right behind it. The trembling did not stop. Rather, it got worse. Everyone standing automatically clung onto anything bolted down.

Mark watched as they entered the green vortex. The ship lurched again. Even those clinging to steady objects on the bridge were forced to the floor.

With a wince, Mark struggled to the navigator's seat. He grabbed the controls. A glance at the navigation screen told him the ship had veered dangerously to the right. There was still enough power for thrusters. Not enough to go back the way they'd come, but enough to stabilize their trajectory. He tried to follow the center on manual as best as he could.

The first officer was barely aware of Renolds struggling to his feet. “Report!”

“We're caught in the gravitational pull of a damaged alien ship,” Mark replied.

“Chart our course. Try to slow us down.”

“I can't,” Mark said. “We're going faster than our conventional speeds. If I try to slow us down, we'll break in two.”

“Just how far are we from NAVA space?”

Hannah answered. “Based on the speeds we're going ... Wow, that's pretty far.”

“Daniels!” Renolds snapped.

“We're already beyond our universe! We cannot return to NAVA space within our lifetime. Or several lifetimes.”

It took a moment for that to sink in. Then, Mark shoved it away from his mind. Now was not the time to think about that.

The panel next to him exploded. Elizabeth jumped in surprise.

“Power is fluctuating all over the ship,” Mark said. One after another the control panels exploded. Smoke clogged the air. The ship had now drifted into the side of the wormhole, and the readings told him what he already knew. “We're veering away, and there's no power for thrusters.”

“Shit,” Renolds whispered.

The Vigilant exited the wormhole as though passing through nothing worse than a cloud. A second later, the ship re-entered normal space and slowed to a gradual stop. Behind it the wormhole disappeared into nothing.

* * * *

Renolds grabbed a flashlight and aimed it on the console. He glanced at the view screen, but it was damaged and displayed a gray window with an error message: Warning. Monitor V8A-6013 is malfunctioning. Please call your system administrator.

Renolds said, “We have to get someone to engineering.”

“Here, Captain,” Carl interrupted as he arrived on the bridge from an emergency ladder. “The problem is from the core of the ship itself. The matter-antimatter's been contaminated. We need to clean it out before we can get any power back on the ship. Say, seventy-two hours from now. Then we'll have to reboot every system, one at a time.”

“How did this happen?” Mark asked.

“I don't know. We should have been able to see the contamination earlier, but we didn't. I don't have any answers yet.”

“Carl, I need to know what's out there,” Renolds said. “We could be attacked at any moment!”

Carl bit his lip. “I can give you emergency power back with some portable generators. It won't be much. Life support, basic scanners, maneuvering thrusters, and the lights. That's all. No weapons or shields.”

“View screen?” Mark asked.

“No. That'll take way too much power.”

“It's a start,” Renolds said. “We'll give you a hand. Ensign Daniels, you have the bridge. Let me know the second anything changes. Mark, Carl, with me. Let's get those generators.”

Carl looked a little startled that the captain was going with them, but obediently fell into step behind Mark as they left the bridge. As soon as they entered the pitch-black hallway, Renolds knew this was his only chance. He brushed past the startled engineer and ran straight for Mark. The first officer's hand was already moving for his gun before Renolds came close to him. He twisted Mark's arm and slammed him into a ladder. “You have us pretty good, Commander. But we're not dead yet. Tell us what those things are out there.”

“You're insane,” Mark said calmly. “No, you're beyond insane! If I had anything to do with this, then why did Admiral Yates allow me to even set foot on this ship?”

“I don't know,” Renolds admitted. “Honest to God, I don't know.”

“Listen, can't we—” Carl began.

When Renolds glanced at Carl, Mark grabbed Renolds's shoulder and slammed him against the wall. With his other hand he took out his gun and pointed it at the captain's head.

“Word of advice. It's a bad idea to piss off a mass murderer,” Mark said.

“Oh yes, this is much better,” Carl said with a faint note of sarcasm.

“So you're going to kill me too? Is that your plan?” Renolds asked.

“Okay, how many times am I going to have to tell you that this is not my fault?”

“Sorry, but I have trouble buying into your invisible alien story.”

“The aliens are real. Believe it or not, they're here right now. I can see them.” That much was true. Mark could see three aliens slithering past them on the ceiling. So far they had made no move to attack.

“And how in God's name can you see them when no one else can?”

Mark's voice was still calm. “Because years ago my eyes were surgically changed to be able to detect ... for lack of a better word, illusions. It was an important feature during the Resistance.”

Carl observed the hallway. It had been so tense that he had not noticed until now, but there was something off about the hallway. His symbiot buzzed with energy. “Sir, I think he's telling the truth. I'm picking up something I can't explain.”

Mark rubbed the cut above his eye. He glared at Renolds and released him.

Renolds stepped away, still indecisive. He didn't know what to believe.

“Captain?” Telsia spoke suddenly from the doorway, glancing at all three of them in turn. “Am I interrupting something?”

“No,” Renolds said. “You two go on ahead. I'll catch up with you in a minute.”

When they'd gone, Telsia said, “My men have done a sweep of every deck. There's no sign of an intruder anywhere.”

“Something is here,” Renolds said. “Run the search again.”

“Or this is a trick. Collingway knows something. I can tell. Permission to beat it out of him.”

“We shouldn't have to resort to something so extreme.” Renolds said. He glanced around, and couldn't help but feel that there were eyes watching him. “Let's keep searching.”

Telsia's eyes narrowed, but she turned and left.

Renolds watched her go. He didn't trust her, and he certainly didn't trust Mark either. After a moment he followed the security chief.

[Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter 6

Two hours later, Carl set up the last of the generators. “Try it now.”

Above him Ordias pushed a series of buttons. A metal strip along the floor flickered with blue light. “She lives again.”

Carl climbed the ladder to join him. “We've got emergency power back. That's a good sign.”

“Except for the fact that we can barely see anything.”

In response, Carl walked over to a computer. “See? We've got basic power back. Navigation, communications and life support.”

The assistant engineer did notice it was getting warmer. “Shields and weapons? What about sensors?”

“Nope. Too much power. I can't do anything with those systems until the warp core is cleaned out.” Carl suddenly froze.

“What?” Ordias demanded.

“I do have a basic sensor feed of the area around the ship,” Carl said, and pointed at the binary numbers flying across the screen. “We're not in normal space. At least, nothing either of us can define as normal. The ship is caught in some kind of ... fluid space.” He shook his head, astonished. “That's gotta be a new one for the history books.”

Ordias's eyes widened. “Any chance of us going around it?”

“Not a chance. We're stuck right in the middle. I'm not even sure where it ends. It is passable, although navigation will be tough. We can only move with one-quarter thrusters.”

The assistant engineer watched a thousand ones and zeros race across the screen. “You sure you can read that okay?”

“Why? Are you offering to help?”

Ordias grinned. “Okay, boy genius, what do you see out there?”

“Hang on, there's something. Coordinates fifty degrees northeast by eighty degrees west. Initial scans detect a power signature.”

“What is it? Another ship?”

“No, too big. It appears to be a planet. Five hours away off our starboard side. Let's tell the captain.”

* * * *

Elizabeth's skin crawled as she walked down the hall to her quarters. She couldn't see them, but she could feel the aliens all around her, climbing the walls and the ceiling. Perhaps they were crawling on her body right now. The telepath closed her eyes. “Go away. Just go away.”

They didn't stop. Elizabeth even tried to force them away mentally, with no result. The very idea that they could be swarming the Vigilant ready to sabotage it again was terrifying. Not that there was a lot left to sabotage.

Still, it scared her so much that she wanted to talk to the only other person who could detect them. Mentally, she could sense him only a few decks away.

A few minutes later, she approached Mark in another dark hallway and found him staring at the ceiling. “What do you want?” he asked before Elizabeth could announce her presence.

“Do you see them? Right now?”

Mark didn't reply.

“Um, listen. I just wanted to say ... I believe you. I can feel them,” Elizabeth said.

Shaking his head Mark turned to face her. “That should mean something to me?”

“They're a danger to this ship,” Elizabeth persisted. “Can't you shoot them or something?”

“Interesting theory,” Mark said. Then, he took out his gun, aimed to her right, and fired once. Elizabeth jumped at the noise. She couldn't see what had happened, and it was hard to tell from the expression on Mark's face.

“I guess that answers the question,” Mark said. “Didn't do a thing. Just passed right through them.”

His tone indicated a complete lack of surprise. Almost instinctively, she tried to scan his mind again and reached a wall instantly.

“Stop that,” Mark said. “I can feel you trying.”

“How are you able to do that?”

“I think a better question is, what gives you the right to scan my mind? What scares you more, telepath? The fact that I might know something, or the fact that for once you can't invade someone's privacy?”

Elizabeth said nothing. She tried to control the outrage she felt so it wouldn't show on her face.

“The reason why I'm not surprised is because I tried shooting them five minutes ago. Besides scaring the crap out of an ensign, that also didn't do anything.” He held up his gun, hilt-up. “But if you feel like you can do better, go ahead and try.”

“I've never touched a weapon in my life.”

Mark smirked. “No, you are a weapon. Why don't you mentally make them go away?”

“I can't,” Elizabeth admitted.

“Then I guess you're pretty useless, aren't you?” Mark said, putting away his gun. “But there's more than one of you, isn't there?”

Elizabeth felt like smacking her own forehead. Of course! There were other telepaths on the Vigilant. Some far more powerful than her. “But ... I don't know any of them.”

“You don't know me,” Mark said, and walked away.

* * * *

After five hours they arrived at their destination. Or at least Renolds assumed so. He still couldn't see anything on the view screen aside from the same annoying error message.

“More detailed scans are coming up now,” Carl reported from the science station. “Mostly uninhabited, except for one area. Looks like something that might have once been a space station. It's old, almost a hundred years before our time. At some point I guess it just ran out of power and crashed onto the planet. Later it transformed into part of a complex. The station is pretty big, spanning about fifty levels.”

“Is there life?” Renolds asked.

“Yes. Most of it is centered on the upper levels. They have enough power for scans, so they should have detected us by now.”

“Track for any transmissions,” Renolds ordered.

Carl did so. “Got them. I'm picking up five different com signals.”

“Let's hear them,” Mark said.

Carl turned on the first channel. The first was a random set of beeping. The second was in a garbled language no one could understand. The third was a shriek so high in pitch that everyone clamped their hands over their ears and shouted for Carl to change the channel.

On the fourth try, they had some luck.

“Hello?” a man's voice tried to break through. “Hello? Is someone there?”

“Can you boost the signal?’ Renolds asked eagerly.

Carl pushed a button. “Try it now.”

“This is Renolds Osirus of the Vigilant. Who am I talking to?”

“Oh, another human, huh? My name is Erin Lamshan, and you're talking to the only outpost left of our kind. How'd you get here?”

Renolds glanced casually at Mark. “It was an accident.”

“Oh. Well, you're not going to find a way back. You wanna trade for some maps? Maybe find a nice planet to settle down?”

“In exchange for what?”

“Got any food?”

“Yes, we have that. How much do you need?” Renolds spoke with caution.

“Oh, as much as you want to spare. We don't want to inconvenience you. So, ah, what do you say?”

“All right. We'll be down in three hours.”

“Good. Better dress for cold weather. It's an ice wasteland outside the base. Welcome to Seclusion, Captain.”

“Thanks.” Renolds closed the channel and turned to face his officers. “Mark, you have command. Telsia, with me.” Without another word Renolds left the bridge. As soon as he was sure that no one could see him, he braced himself against the wall and started to tremble. He badly needed a smoke right now. I can't handle this ... I can't handle this...

“Renolds,” Mark said, making him jump. “Let me go on the mission.”

The captain turned his head, surprised. “I need someone to command the ship.”

Mark gestured impatiently. “Anyone can do that! You need me down there more.”

“Why?”

“Honest truth?”

“Yes,” Renolds said. He had time for little else.

“You're in way over your head. You don't have a clue what's happened, and you barely know what to do next. You're lost with a crew of strangers. Most of all, you're out of NAVA's sheltering arms for the first time. It scares you.”

For a moment, Renolds considered what he said. “And just how is your position any different, Commander?”

“Because, unlike you, I can see a rat when it's dangling in front of my eyes. This Erin Lamshan is lying to you. Which is why you're going to need me.”

* * * *

In the locker room, Renolds put on a heavily insulated dark-blue jacket. He grabbed two NAVA standard handguns, two knives, and a radio which provided limited communication between the ship and the people of the surface for two hours. Lastly, they had been issued wrist lights and a scanner. The captain double-checked the ammo on his gun and pulled back the safety. He noticed Mark was silently gearing up to his right.

“We need to make a few things clear,” the captain said.

Mark said nothing as he removed the ammo from his second gun. He checked the clip, and then replaced the ammo.

“Both of us are heading into an unknown situation. We might need to rely on each other, and for now, we're both in this together. I will respect your rank if you respect mine.”

Mark removed the safety and placed the second gun away. “So what do you want from me?”

“For one thing, you can drop the attitude.”

The first officer raised his eyebrows. “So you've stopped thinking I'm responsible for this?”

“I haven't entirely ruled it out,” Renolds replied neutrally. “But for now, I will go under the assumption that you are not.”

Mark shrugged. “You're right about one thing, Renolds. Nothing has changed about me in the last eleven years. Especially not my views about NAVA. I know more about your superiors than you can ever guess.”

“Does that include why we're here?”

Mark placed a throwing knife in his belt. “For the record, no. I don't know anything. But if I did, do you honestly think I would tell you?”

Carl entered the locker room. “Captain, may I speak with you for a moment?”

Renolds nodded. “Of course. Let's step outside.” With a final glance at Mark, both he and Carl stepped out into the hall.

The chief engineer wasted no time. “I can't command the Vigilant. It breaks every single rule in the book.”

“You've had experience in the past,” Renolds pointed out.

“We both know that I'm not in the NAVA command chain anymore.”

“Carl, I've had only a day to know my crew. Everyone I even remotely know is coming down with me, which leaves either you or my actual crew. Personally, I feel safer with you. Take good care of my ship. And don't think too hard.” With a clap on the chief engineer's shoulder, he turned left toward the shuttle bay.

* * * *

The shuttle detached from the ship and headed toward the planet. The occupants spent the next few minutes in silence. Even the shuttles were on emergency power only. They were flying blind and had to rely on sensors. Mark was piloting and seemed to know what he was doing. He operated the controls like one who had years of experience.

Forty minutes later, the shuttle landed with a gentle thud. “Touchdown,” Mark said.

“Let's go,” Renolds ordered. They exited out of the lifting door onto an outside ramp. The space station was still a quarter of a mile away. From the distance they could see it spanned upward hundreds of meters. Despite its size, the captain knew most of it must be buried in the ice. Patches of the hull had decayed, leaving wide holes for the snow to fall through. Other patches were covered in layers of ice. It was clear the station had not been space-worthy in some time.

“Look up,” Telsia ordered.

They did so, and Renolds observed a dark-green sky. Mark didn't say anything.

“Keep the engine running, Telsia,” Renolds said. “We'll be back soon.”

[Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter 7

The massive gray doors opened with an ear-shattering crunch. Renolds stepped through and removed his dark blue hood and glasses. Inside, there was utter chaos. Hundreds of people and aliens weaved around assorted vendors and stalls. Renolds stepped over a woman who was either passed out or dead. He could also see dozens of cracks in the walls covered by tiny force fields in a failing attempt to protect the inhabitants from the outside cold.

The captain drew up instinctively as a large man stepped from the shadows. Mark reached for his gun. They soon saw that they had no reason to worry, for the man was holding something which to Renolds appeared to be a raw squid, except it had sixteen legs. “Care for a cephalopod? It was harvested out of the ice only two weeks ago! For only a moderate sum—”

“No thank you,” Renolds said, waving him away.

The squid-like creature waved back.

Renolds and Mark both stared at it.

“Shouldn't we try to make contact?” Mark asked quietly. “Er ... I mean, with other people, of course. Not the squid.”

“No. Remember, we still don't know what kind of universe this is,” Renolds replied. He looked to the right, and saw a group of children in the shadows, begging for food. “Let's go.”

A few minutes later, Mark and Renolds climbed down a narrow metal ladder that led into the lower tunnels several miles underneath the ice. Both men turned on their wrist flashlights. Water dripped from a broken pipe in the ceiling, and garbage littered the ground. They walked through a tunnel which opened up to a large chamber ending in a set of massive doors that towered over them, similar to the entrance of the base. As Renolds pondered how to open them, the doors opened on their own. Beyond them was another chamber, one with no lighting at all. Renolds could just barely make out a metal walkway above the room, lined with people staring down at them. He couldn't see their features except for the shine of their eyes reflected in the beam of his flashlight. A spotlight suddenly turned on and blinded Renolds.

A shadow moved in front of it. “Turn it off! Turn off that shitty light!”

The light flicked off, revealing a man standing in front of them with short white hair and white stubble. He was bulging with muscle, and his entire face was covered in burns. The man was clearly sizing them up. “They are our guests, after all,” he added after a moment of mutual silence.

Renolds nodded. “Much obliged. I'm Renolds Osirus, captain of the Vigilant.”

“I'm always pleased to meet newcomers from this side of the galaxy,” the grizzled man replied with a nod.

“We don't plan on staying long enough to make anyone's acquaintance,” Mark said.

The man glanced at him. “And who might you be? Wait, don't tell me. I've seen your face before. Marcus Collingway, is that right? Relax kid, I hold no sides.”

“How could you possibly know who he is?” Renolds demanded.

“We have more in common than you think,” the man replied. “The name's Thadius. I used to be from your side of the galaxy. Long time ago. I was a captain, too, in fact. That was ... Well, about fifteen years ago.”

“And then what?” Mark asked.

“And then we met up with the Soulites,” Thadius said, his eyes narrowing. “Nasty critters.”

“Soulites? Were they dark?” Renolds asked. “Shadows except for green veins and red eyes?”

“That would be a Soulite, I wager. They go onto your ship?” Thadius asked.

“Yes,” Mark said.

“A Soulite doesn't stay for long. Just long enough to sabotage the engines. But there are different kinds of Soulites, most not so nice as the ones you saw.”

“Their ships were attacking NAVA,” Renolds remarked.

Thadius suddenly threw his head back and laughed. “NAVA? Now that's a name I haven't heard in a while! That old bucket is still around? I thought the Resistance would destroy them for good! So you lost, did you?”

“Ancient history,” Mark said.

“Well, still a shame. The Resistance had lots of heart. Can't say the same for NAVA. And now you're all stuck here with us in this galaxy. Let me tell you one thing, it's easy to get here but impossible to go back. We were explorers once. That's why I came to this region of space. Believe me, I regret it. Any area of space where the Soulites dwell has a funny way of ... changing people. I lost half my crew going to the main base of the Soulites before turning tail and coming back here. Seclusion is the only friendly place you'll ever see, Captain. We live off the base, trading supplies for food. When that doesn't work, we scavenge. But I'd rather call this place home than go searching for another.”

“Where is the main base of these Soulites?” Renolds asked.

Thadius smirked. “It's not too hard to locate their hideout. The problem is what happens afterward. Going there has a way of sucking your spirit out. My navigator went there once by himself. He didn't come out human. You've gotta be a mean son-of-a-bitch to survive for one minute there, and frankly you don't look like you've got it, Captain. You're all sort of soft and squishy.” He stepped forward. “Let me give you some advice, Renolds, staying here with us is your best shot. You won't survive what's out there. This place here is neutral territory, but the rest of the entire universe is under Soulite control. There is nowhere else to go.”

Renolds didn't know what to say.

Thadius suddenly grinned. “Well, except for one place.”

* * * *

The telepaths lived on C-deck with no other crew members. Elizabeth heard stray whispers as she approached. She was only a class three. Among the others, she was one of the lowest in terms of power, but if she could convince the others, maybe they could do something.

When Elizabeth reached the lobby, she finally saw other telepaths. A young woman with blond hair was eating a salad from a metal plate. Another younger man read from a book suspended in mid-air. In one corner, two telepaths were mentally playing a game of chess.

A man stood next to the wall, almost a shadow on account of his black clothes and greasy black hair. The most disturbing part about him was his staring ivy-green eyes. Elizabeth recognized him as Myers Holland. He had been on the shuttle with her when they first arrived on the Vigilant. He was also a class-eight telepath. One of the best. Beside him were two crutches.

As soon as the other telepaths noticed her, the whispering stopped.

“And why would we do that?” Myers asked. “Why would we stop these aliens?”

Elizabeth realized that all of them must have been scanning her mind, and blushed. “The aliens are still on the Vigilant. They can kill us at any time.”

“Will they?” a blond-haired telepath asked. “I don't think so.”

“They do seem ... interesting,” Myers said. “Don't worry, Elizabeth. I know you're scared, but we have this under control.”

Somehow, Elizabeth wasn't reassured. “And just what are you going to do?”

The other telepaths glanced at each other, and Elizabeth was powerless to hear their thoughts.

“Should we tell her?” one of them asked.

“Why not?” Myers said, and hobbled toward her. “Elizabeth, believe it or not, the situation we are in right now is not a bad one. Ever since we came to this area of space, I've been able to do things I never dreamed of before. I can hear every single thought on this vessel, at one time. Perhaps it's this area of space, but our powers are growing. Haven't you felt it?”

Truthfully, she hadn't, but Elizabeth refused to admit it.

Myers's eyes were wide with excitement. “Not only that, but here there is no Earth. No NAVA warships. No one can control us. We can do whatever we want, and take whatever we want. Don't you realize that? And it's all because of these aliens. So why would I want to make them go away?”

Elizabeth frowned. She knew the other telepaths were scanning her thoughts intently. “If my powers are really growing, then maybe I could make the aliens leave the Vigilant.”

As soon as she said that, the atmosphere in the room chilled. All of them were now openly glaring at her.

“No, Lizzie, you can't,” Myers said. “Because we can stop you the moment you try.” His eyes narrowed. “Don't become a problem.”

Suddenly, they all felt it at the same time. A change. Elizabeth immediately reached out with her senses, and could feel the other telepaths joining her. It was too quiet on the Vigilant. The aliens had left.

“Where did they go?” one telepath asked.

The ship trembled violently.

“I do believe we are under attack,” Myers remarked.

[Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter 8

“What is this other place?” Mark asked.

Thadius grinned and held up a CD. “That's my little secret for the moment. Nothing here is free. On that note, do you have some food for us?”

Mark lifted his black duffle bag and threw it at Thadius, who caught it easily. Renolds stared at the captain and noticed how well-built his body seemed compared to the rest of his skinny, frail crew. He couldn't help but wonder how much of a cut the crew would actually get. The captain of the Vigilant had an increasing desire to leave.

Thadius unzipped the bag and opened it. He smelled it, then passed it along to the skinny first officer. The boy practically snatched it out of his hands and ran out of the room.

“The deal?” Renolds asked.

Thadius grinned. “I'm a man of my word.” He tossed the CD to Renolds.

Renolds handed it to Mark. “Transmit this to Carl over the PDA. His symbiot can understand it faster than we can.”

Thadius's head jerked up. “Symbiot? Did I hear that just now?”

“Yes. So?” Renolds demanded.

The captain grinned. “Now that is something I can bargain with. If you can lend us your chief engineer for a short time I'm sure we can part with more information about the Soulites. Weapon technology, hull defense, some small protection through their space. Of course there's no guarantee that he'll be altogether in one piece when he comes back, but...” He finished that thought with a grin. “Harsh universe.”

“Sorry. I don't make deals involving the lives of my crew,” Renolds said.

“Too bad. It would have made things so much easier between us. Perhaps we could have come to a better understanding.”

With a snapping noise, weapons were pointed at Renolds from behind and from the people on the walkway above. The doors opened, and more men arrived. Mark was shoved back with Renolds.

“Take their weapons,” Thadius ordered. Two men stepped out of the shadows and hesitantly removed the guns from Renolds's and Mark's hoisters. Thadius inspected them. “Well. These will come in handy on the market.”

“So what now, Captain?” Renolds asked.

“Well, unfortunately for you, we sell everything around here. That includes you two. People around here need laborers, or even plain old body parts. Of course we could overlook that unpleasantness, maybe, if you convince your crew to come down to this treasured world. Otherwise, we'll just have to go up and get them, and that could be messy. Some people could get hurt. What's it going to be, Captain?”

Renolds glared at him in disgust. “You're insane. You've betrayed everything a captain stands for.”

“In this universe, I've learned to compromise very quickly. You think you're going to be any better? Try living here for a couple of weeks.” He snorted. “Take them away.”

Mark glanced to the left. He grabbed the man's reaching arm and with one twist, broke it. A split-second later Mark grabbed the gun, fired it at the man next to Renolds, and fired at the woman next to him. Both fell in the space of two seconds. Another pirate whirled around, his gun raised. Mark turned. The third bullet caught the pirate's neck.

Three more shots and three men fell from the railing. One managed to fire a shotgun. Renolds took cover. Mark dodged to the left and finished the last two on the walkway. Soon there was only Thadius.

“Bah!” Thadius spat, and drew a razor-sharp knife. He slashed at Mark, who blocked the blow. The captain whirled around, the blade glinting in the light. Mark stepped back, just as the circular motion of the blade almost severed his throat. Never stopping, the pirate lunged clumsily to the right. Mark side-stepped to the left and punched him once in the side. The captain fell to the ground. Mark aimed his gun.

“Mark!” Renolds snapped, and shook his head.

Mark sighed loudly. Great. He had a squeamish captain.

Thadius still clung to consciousness. “You'll never make it out of here alive! Everyone on this station will stop you!”

Renolds grabbed his radio. “Carl.”

“There's a series of tunnels from your location. I'm uploading them into both your scanners now. Eventually they'll lead up to the surface,” Carl reported.

“Good work,” Renolds said, and turned off his radio. “Let's go.” he said to Mark.

Thadius glared at Renolds with eyes of hatred. “Next time I see you, I'll kill you,” he promised.

* * * *

As Renolds and Mark made their way back through the dripping tunnels, the first officer turned on his radio. “Telsia, we've run into some trouble.”

“Is the captain around?” Telsia asked, sounding really unimpressed.

Renolds took out his radio. “I'm here, Telsia.”

“The shuttle's ready to go.”

“All right. We'll be there soon.”

“Understood.”

Renolds turned off the radio. A second later, it beeped, and he turned it back on. “What is it?”

“The Vigilant is under attack,” Carl reported.

“By the mercenaries?” Mark asked.

“No, sir. Whoever attacked Earth is back.”

* * * *

The ship pitched violently to the right, but Carl was able to stay on his feet. “Damage report.”

“Minimal,” Hannah replied. “Beside from people bumping their heads. The weapons from the alien ship aren't actually penetrating our hull. They're not hurting us at all!”

Carl frowned. “That's strange.” He held onto the console as the ship trembled again. “We can't outmaneuver them. Not at the velocity they're going. Key in random speeds and destinations. That should thrown them off for the few minutes we need.”

Hannah did so but couldn't help but be puzzled. “For what, sir?”

Carl smiled at her. “To beat them.”

* * * *

Renolds and Mark entered onto a large circular platform leading directly to the surface. As soon as they stepped on it, the elevator began to rise slowly upward. Mark dropped to the icy ground and fired his gun at the mercenaries frantically running toward them. Finally, the elevator lifted out of range.

Mark reloaded his handgun. “It's eight kilometers to the shuttle. Have you ever driven a rover before?”

Renolds swallowed. Now was not the time for pride. Not when it could lead to getting them killed. “A few times.”

“I'll pilot,” Mark said. He gazed up at the green sky. “The Soulites are real.”

“Yeah,” Renolds agreed. “Now they have a name.”

The elevator stopped, and Renolds and Mark were suddenly outside in the bitter cold. For the moment, the snow had stopped and all was silent. Knee-deep in the slush, both of them hurried to a chain gate where the outside terrain vehicles were kept. Mark shot the lock and tore the gate open. They climbed into the second rover on the far left. The first officer yanked the panel open and attached two wires together. One spark later, the rover started with a sputter.

Both of them looked upward when the sun was suddenly blotted out. In the green sky, there was a dancing white sparkle that must have been their ship. Threatening to overtake it was a black void.

“Hurry,” Renolds said, and Mark shifted the gear into reverse. He backed out and swerved the rover to face the gate, then drove forward. Renolds could see the Soulite ship launch something at the Vigilant. It missed and instead went right through the atmosphere of the planet without burning. As Renolds and Mark watched, it landed beyond the horizon. A second later they heard a strange noise, like the crunching of ice. Renolds stood and looked down over the windshield. Green tendrils spread into the ground for hundreds of miles as the ice cracked and turned dark green all around them. Mark was unprepared for it. The rover lurched to the left but somehow managed to stay on the ground.

The captain put on his seat harness and took out his scanner. “Whatever caused that is weakening the ice! It might break under the weight of the rover!”

“You wanna get out and explain it to them?” Mark shouted as he glanced at the mirror to see two vehicles following them.

“Turn left! There's a weak patch ten meters in front of you!”

Mark spun the wheel and took out his handgun. He squeezed off three shots at the ground behind them. Instantly the ice broke under one of the rovers, and it disappeared from sight. In return, the second rover fired an energy blast at them. It broke through the windshield and hit the ice in front of their vehicle. Mark steered sharply to the right. They were now only a kilometer from the shuttle. Renolds took out his binoculars. The shuttle was powered up and ready to go.

Suddenly the tires slipped. Mark turned the wheel but it was too late. The rover overbalanced and crashed into the snow. Renolds felt his shoulder wrench from the impact. Worse, he couldn't unlatch his seat harness.

Mark didn't hesitate. He took out his gun and fired at the seatbelt. Within seconds Renolds was free. Silently, the first officer extended his hand, and Renolds took it. Mark hauled him out of the rover. Behind him, two other rovers were approaching fast. Renolds and Mark broke into a run for the shuttle. Mark half-crouched and fired into their own overturned rover's fuel tank. It exploded, but the ground immediately started to shake from the resulting explosion.

“Come on!” Renolds shouted. They both ran straight for the shuttle. Renolds half-slipped on the strange green ice but was on his feet within seconds. Both of them ran as the ice cracked and broke behind their feet. The one remaining rover chasing them fell and disappeared from view.

A moment later they reached the shuttle. “Take off now!” Renolds ordered. Behind him Mark closed the hatch.

“Already on it,” Telsia said calmly. The shuttle lifted and headed for outer space.

* * * *

Hannah tapped the control panel impatiently. She was by nature a patient woman, but watching Carl do nothing but stare at a binary screen for ten minutes had really pressed her limits. “Sir, what do we do?”

Carl thought for a moment, then said, “Give me a read-out of what we have.”

With an exaggerated sigh Hannah pulled up the list. “Sub-light engines, life support, gravity, defense counter-measures, the grinder—”

“The grinder? What's that?” Carl asked.

“Ship-to-surface missiles. It's generally used in the terraforming process.” Hannah shook her head. “We'd have to be in extremely close proximity for that to be effective.”

“I can get them close.” The chief engineer opened a channel to engineering. “Activate the sub-light engines.”

“Yes, sir,” Yimmins replied.

“What!” Hannah exploded. “You want to leave the captain?”

“Take some advice from your acting captain—shut up and hang onto something. Navigation, be ready for these coordinates, but not until I say.” Carl pulled up a three-dimensional map. It displayed a path heading into a nebula several thousand miles away. Or at least what Carl assumed to be a nebula.

“Sub-light engines ready,” Hannah reported. “Enemy ship approaching.”

“Give me a count.”

“A hundred kilometers and closing. Eight kilometers. Sixty.”

Carl closed his eyes and counted silently to himself.

“Fifty-eight. Sir—”

“Not yet!” Carl said.

“Fifty. Forty five. Forty two...”

Carl still said nothing.

Hannah swallowed. “Forty. Thirty-eight. Thirty-six. Thirty five...”

“Now!” Carl said.

The navigator activated the engines. Carl counted three seconds. “Stop the engines!”

The navigator did so, and the Vigilant shuddered to a stop. Hannah, who wasn't hanging on, almost tumbled over the side of the railing.

Carl turned. “Power down everything.”

Hannah did so. Immediately the emergency lights went out and the bridge was pitch-black. She looked up. “You're bluffing. You're making them think we're running away.”

“And based on my calculations, there's a sixty-percent chance they'll buy it and go far, far away from here.”

“And what are the other odds?” Hannah asked.

“Well, there's a twenty-seven percent chance they'll stop right underneath us after realizing their mistake, a three percent chance that they have scanners and saw right through us, and a two-percent chance they'll ignore us completely and go after the shuttle.” Carl glanced at Hannah. “Arm the grinder.”

“Yes, sir.”

A moment later there was a flash of white light, and the alien ship appeared right underneath them.

“Now!” Carl ordered.

“Don't need to tell me twice,” Hannah muttered. She turned the key. Instantly the alien ship was bombarded with thousands of tiny missiles.

Within moments it was over. The alien ship floated away in pieces.

“Stand down from alert status,” Carl ordered.

“Minor injuries reported on all decks,” Hannah said. “Captain Osirus's shuttle is hailing. I think they want to know where we are.”

“Noted. I want to collect some of those fragments from the alien ship first.”

“Sir, if I may, how did you know the alien ship would attack us and not the shuttle?”

“A simple equation, based on the alien ship's attitude toward us. Plus they could easily destroy the shuttle with one shot, and it wasn't going anywhere. Simple mathematics.”

“Simple mathematics, sir?” Hannah repeated.

Carl didn't reply, but smiled.

[Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter 9

An hour later, Carl glanced up from his welding as Renolds and Mark approached. “Well,” he began, “the sub-light engines didn't like to be stopped cold. It'll take me a while to fix them.”

“Another factor in that equation of yours I've been hearing about?” Renolds asked.

“Yes, sir. A necessary risk.”

“It saved our lives. I'll remember that for the future.”

Without replying, Carl lifted a black fragment from a silver tray. “This is a piece we scavenged from the wreckage. We were going under the assumption that the ship was made out of some kind of metal. None of my scans could understand anything about the ship. Not even what it was made of. Until I did this.”

Carl poured acid over the fragment. Immediately it started to twist and move, making Renolds and Mark jump back. It struggled out of Carl's grip and landed on the silver tray. Once there, it stopped moving.

“The ship is biological in nature,” Carl concluded. “And my scans aren't calibrated for that. Dr. Neilson might have better luck.”

“So you're saying that we destroyed a life form?” Renolds said.

“Technically, we destroyed several, if there was a crew manning that ship,” Carl replied. “There's still a large piece of the hull intact. If there are alien life forms on the ship, a couple of people with EV suits could have a look.”

“Only one way to find out,” Renolds said. “You're both going to do just that.”

* * * *

For the first time ever, Mark seriously began to entertain the notion that Renolds was trying to kill him.

Carl needed a few minutes to prep the shuttle, which gave Mark time to do ... well, nothing. He paced in his quarters impatiently. Even if they did run into the Soulites, just what was he supposed to do? The first officer eyed the gun stuffed in his bag. Bullets didn't do anything. Nothing did.

The door chimed. Mark eyed his gun again, then opened the door. Standing in front of him was a very nervous Elizabeth.

“Hi,” Elizabeth asked. “Can I come in?”

“No,” Mark said coldly. Why did she think they were friends? Was it something he'd said earlier? “What do you want?”

Elizabeth clasped her hands. “All right. I'll get right to the point. I heard you're going to board the alien vessel. I want to come along.”

Mark stared at her for a moment. Then, without saying anything, he stepped back into his quarters.

She followed him inside. Mark's bag remained unpacked on the floor. A dirty plate lay on the counter. “Still unpacking?”

Mark glared at her with burning eyes which caused Elizabeth to gulp and turn away.

“Trying to scan my mind again?” Mark asked.

“No,” Elizabeth said. “You ... were right. I had no right to try. That's partly why I came here. The other telepaths are becoming more powerful. I wasn't sure at first, but I'm getting stronger, too.”

Mark blinked at this new information. “What do mean, ‘more powerful?'”

“Well...” Elizabeth lifted her hand, and the empty plate lifted above the counter and hovered for a few seconds before setting back down.

Mark watched this happen. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I think we're the only ones capable of destroying the aliens. And it might be a good idea to have one of us come along when you go on the ship.”

“Soulites,” Mark said suddenly. “That's the name of the aliens. Soulites.” He stared at her. “Just so I completely understand, you're telling me that you and the other telepaths have enough power to say, kill everyone on this ship with a single thought?”

“What?” Elizabeth said. “No! We would never do that!”

Mark smirked. “You know, I disagree with NAVA on every single policy, except for one. Just one. And that's to keep telepaths controlled. Locked away.”

“I don't understand why you hate us so much,” Elizabeth said. “Why you hate me? I'm just trying to help you.”

Mark shrugged at the question. “It's simple history. Telepaths had been tortured by NAVA for centuries. The Resistance offered your people a way out, and they refused.” He glanced at her, and his eyes narrowed. “On the last day of the war, the battle of Cedar Hill, our plan was perfect. We almost won, but we made one fatal flaw. We had assumed the telepaths would stay out of our way. Instead they helped NAVA, and turned the tide of war in their favor. The only reason I'm even here today is because of you.”

Elizabeth looked angry, but she didn't deny the accusation.

Mark released a held breath. He meant every word he said, but unfortunately, she had a point that he couldn't ignore. “I'll talk to Renolds about letting you tag along.”

Elizabeth gaped at him. “Really?”

Mark smirked. “Hope you've been in outer space before.”

* * * *

“So, do you think Renolds is trying to kill me?” Mark asked half an hour later, his voice oddly amplified in his helmet.

“Maybe,” Carl said cheerfully. It was strange. Despite the awkwardness of their first encounter, they were able to chat like friends. At the moment they were both standing in the remaining section of the alien hull. Even though they wore magnetic boots, Carl only had to observe the big gaping hole to his left to know they were spinning really fast. He glanced to his right and could see a pale Elizabeth clutching her stomach.

“No, seriously! He keeps sending me on missions that are incredibly dangerous, probably hoping that I might die. We actually have people on the ship, Carl! Telsia's security force, a science team ... yet who does he send? The chief engineer and executive officer. Do you see the problem of why Renolds would consider us first for canary squad?” Mark asked.

Carl was about to reply when the beam of his flashlight caught something just ahead. “Look at this,” he said.

Mark and Elizabeth followed his gaze. There, sitting propped on a seat against the wall was some kind of creature. Carl couldn't see it too clearly, but it was covered in fur and wearing a green jumpsuit. Various tubes ran up and down its back, keeping it in place.

The chief engineer raised his flashlight and saw other creatures propped against the wall. Some of them had green skin, blue skin, or appeared to be humanoid. All of them had tubes in them. “They're not alive,” he said, consulting his scanner. “None of them.”

Mark bent down and inspected a humanoid woman whose lips were covered in frost. “Destroying the hull must have killed them.”

“I've already studied the tubes. Inside it is blood and various proteins. I told you before, the ship is organic, remember? I think we found its food supply,” Carl said.

“Oh, gross,” Elizabeth whispered.

“My guess is that it would feed from them for a while, let them recover, then feed again. The process has been going on for years. Even if they were alive, I don't think we could remove them without causing serious harm.”

* * * *

Renolds wanted to believe that all other telepaths were just like Elizabeth, eager to help if given the chance. With that thought he proceeded to Deck C with a false cheerfulness that didn't quite hide the deep terror he was feeling.

He didn't trust the telepaths. To be fair, no one did. How could you trust someone who knows your most intimate thoughts? Almost everyone viewed them as freaks of nature. Renolds would like to think differently.

Deck C was quiet as he arrived. It was originally dedicated to housing maintenance technicians and the telepaths, but all of the technicians had elected to take the even more cramped quarters of G Deck instead. Where most of the decks were alive with people, this one was deserted, and the only noise Renolds could hear was the sound of a buzzing light in the distance. Even so, he couldn't shake the feeling he was being ... watched.

The captain walked down the hall. Occasionally he caught a stray whisper, but couldn't figure out where it was coming from. The whispers soon turned into murmuring, then a broken conversation. It was enough to unnerve him, but he still pressed on.

He entered an empty lobby and sighed. He might have to knock on someone's quarters. The captain turned around and faced a group of telepaths, led by a man limping on crutches. Renolds's eyes widened in shock. He was not aware of any serious injuries among the telepaths so far.

“Captain,” Myers greeted him simply.

“What happened to you?”

“I had an accident. What do you want?”

Renolds suddenly remembered why he came. “One of your telepaths, Elizabeth, is able to sense the Soulites. I was wondering if any of you could.”

Myers smirked a little. “Yes, Captain, of course we can. Some of us are far more powerful than our dear sister, Lizzy. Richard over there is able to sense their presence throughout this solar system. Don't worry. They have indeed left the Vigilant.”

Renolds released a breath in relief. “Well, that is good news. All right, I'm going to need at least two telepaths reporting back to me the moment they detect any Soulites. We'll also need to station one of them on the bridge as well.”

“Uh-huh,” Myers said. “I was wondering when we were going to hit that snag.”

“Snag?” Renolds demanded.

“You see, unlike Elizabeth, we really have no interest in helping you. We're not going to do your dirty work now, or ever again. And we don't answer to you.”

The captain stared at him, wondering if he heard right. “How exactly did you get that injury?”

“Do you know the history of the telepaths?” Myers demanded. “It's actually quite interesting. We were considered freaks of nature and because of our power, everyone feared us. NAVA offered to ‘take us in', so to speak. We jumped at the chance and thought we would have a better life. But it was a lie. NAVA treated us like slaves. Even after so many years, we were denied basic rights like health care or civil protection.” Myers smiled bitterly. “A short time later, the Resistance offered us a way out. Join them so they could win the war. But their way of life was even worse, sleeping in tents and scavenging in bins for food. So we refused. At the battle of Cedar Hill, we saved NAVA and stopped the Resistance. And what did we get in return for our trouble? Nothing.” Myers glanced at Renolds. “We're not going to be treated like slaves anymore. We are highly advanced forms of life, and we deserve to live like kings.”

Renolds struggled to keep his anger in check. He needed them, after all. “You're on board this ship. You breathe the same air and eat the same food as everyone else. So long as you do that, I expect you to work for what you take.”

Several telepaths laughed out loud after he said that, including Myers. “And if we refuse?”

“Then I'll be happy to send you off my ship through the nearest airlock,” Renolds replied.

For a moment they continued to laugh. Then Myers looked at Renolds and, without moving his lips, said, “Leave. Forget you were ever here. And never have the idea to come back.”

Renolds blinked a few times. Then, he abruptly turned around and walked back the way he came.

He could hear the telepaths laughing behind him, but wasn't quite sure why.

* * * *

Elizabeth closed her eyes as a wave of nausea hit. She couldn't use her powers of telepathy in the slightest here. This was the first time she had ever traveled on a mission before, and the only thing she could think about was holding down her lunch. It didn't help that there were so many dead bodies everywhere. This was hardly the glamorous away mission she had pictured.

Mark glanced at her and gave a small shrug, as though to say, Don't blame me. You're the one who wanted to come along. “Sense anything?”

Elizabeth tried to focus, but it was almost impossible “No. I don't think so.”

“I don't see anything, either. We should head back.”

“Do you think that really killed all of them? Destroying their ship, I mean?” Elizabeth asked. “What if the Soulites can survive without oxygen?”

“I hope not,” Carl said.

Mark suddenly froze, and Elizabeth felt it at the same time. In the shadows, there was something moving toward them. With some difficulty, Elizabeth turned around. Perhaps it was her power growing, but for the first time ever, she could see it too. The alien was terrifying: a dark creature with glowing veins and red eyes that stared at them in hatred. As she watched, the Soulite lunged toward them.

Mark aimed his gun, even though it would have done no good. Elizabeth closed her eyes, wishing that the creature would just leave them alone...

The Soulite suddenly made a noise that sounded like surprise. Elizabeth's eyes snapped open in astonishment. Her own hands were extended, and the Soulite collided with some kind of invisible barrier only inches away from them. As she watched, the Soulite repeatedly lunged into the barrier, its movements growing in urgency as it did.

“Elizabeth, are you doing this?” Carl asked breathlessly.

Elizabeth didn't answer, too focused on trying to push the Soulite away. Trouble was, every time it lunged, it seemed to get closer. In her panic Elizabeth backed against the wall.

She suddenly felt something sharp cut into her leg, followed by a hiss. Her ears were assaulted by a loud beeping followed by a computer-generated voice. “Warning ... Suit integrity compromised. Please file a work order immediately. If this is an emergency, please call your nearest tech support.”

“What?” Elizabeth whispered, turning around. Her leg had hit something sharp—some kind of pipe sticking out. In her confusion, she completely forgot about the Soulite, who sprang to attack them. Mark dodged as the creature leapt past and disappeared through the broken hull into outer space.

“What happened?” Carl demanded.

Mark ignored him. “We need to get back to the shuttle right away.” He gripped Elizabeth's gloved hands. “Elizabeth—”

For some reason, Elizabeth was finding it hard to breathe, and her head was spinning. Didn't she have to file a work order for some reason?

Mark's hands tightened on hers. “Elizabeth, listen to me! You're going to be fine. There's a suit patch in the shuttle. You still have a few minutes of air left.”

“Ugh...” Elizabeth said. “I ... didn't do so well, did I?”

Mark had to smile. “Maybe we'll try again next week.”

* * * *

Telsia's pale hand pulled back a knob and hot water trickled down her body. She closed her eyes as the filth and slime from Seclusion washed down the drain. The public showers were empty, a fact that Telsia had ensured. Being the chief security officer did have a few perks, after all.

The burning water relaxed her aching muscles and massaged the areas where her skin wrinkled or sagged. Tesia shook the water out of her hair. Perhaps if she had let it grow long, she might be pretty. Maybe even younger in appearance. Both were states Telsia didn't care to have.

All of a sudden, she heard the snap of a knife opening. Someone was behind her, trying to be stealthy. For a few seconds she wondered who on the Vigilant would want to kill her.

She waited until her attacker was close enough to almost touch her shoulder before she drove the force of her elbow into the person's gut. She turned in time to see a man double over and back up against the wall.

Telsia's pink foot slammed against the man's neck, pinning him against the concrete. A man with a NAVA uniform. She had no idea who he was. With a slight twist she broke his neck and let him fall. His head cracked against the blue tile.

Telsia slowly crouched down, and shifted through his pockets. Sure enough, her fingers latched onto a piece of paper. She took it out and carefully unfolded it out of the water's path. Already the letters had run together and were impossible to read. But she did notice the NAVA symbol at the bottom.

* * * *

In engineering, Lieutenant Ordias was running a diagnostic on the computer. It was close to midnight, and most of the staff had turned in for the night. The assistant engineer turned in his chair when he heard the doors open. “Hey,” he greeted. “Burning the midnight oil?”

“Something like that,” Telsia replied. “I need you to scan the entire ship and tell me how many life forms are on board.”

Ordias straightened. “Okay. Anything in particular I'm trying to find?”

“Just do it,” Telsia ordered.

With a shrug, Ordias did so. “We've got three hundred and sixty-five people currently on board the Vigilant.”

“How many in the official registry?”

“Just a sec,” Ordias said, and brought up the data. “Three hundred and sixty.” He frowned. “Hang on. That can't be right.”

“Obviously. Could the data be corrupt?”

Ordias scratched his goatee. “Well, it's possible. We suffered a lot of damage when the Soulites attacked us the first time around.” He gestured at the reactor in front of them that pulsed with red light. “The good news is that the core is nearly done with its cleaning cycle. We should have full power in two hours.”

“Thank you,” Telsia said.

“You realize I have to report this to the captain,” Ordias added.

Telsia fixed Ordias with her cold gray eyes. “I'm sure I don't need to tell you that when it comes to the Vigilant's security, I outrank the captain. Therefore I am giving you a direct order to shut up about this. Understand?”

Ordias nodded, somewhat reluctantly. “Yes, ma'am.”

Telsia smiled a little. It was not a pleasant smile. “Good.”

* * * *

The ship was on emergency power, which created a far more intimate atmosphere in the restaurant. Several officers talked softly around small tables, laughed and held hands discreetly. The only illumination came from the glow of a portable light in the center. It was so exclusive, very few were allowed to come here. And certainly not a telepath.

She had no idea why she'd opened the doors in the first place, but when she did, all manner of conversation died. The only sound came from the slow music being played in the corner from various instruments. Then, the silence was broken by one voice, followed quickly by others. Occasionally a person would look up at her, and Elizabeth would hear a stray thought tickling on the edge of her mind.

We don't want you here. Go away.

Swallowing, Elizabeth stepped back. The doors closed. Again, she had no idea what prompted her to do that, except for the fact that any thought, even immense dislike, would remind her that she still existed. Although only a few hours ago, the mission and the feeling of being part of something important had faded like some forgotten dream.

Like all her kind, Elizabeth was enlisted but not officially part of the NAVA corporation. Even those who openly hated NAVA had no love for telepaths. Elizabeth would find no friends among either group. She decided to head to the lower decks.

The Vigilant was far larger than the actual crew capacity and few people would go down to the bottom decks. The hall was dark save for the fluorescent blue light in the form of a metal strip along the floor. It was hardly enough illumination to see her way. Elizabeth stepped forward, her fingers touching the walls for balance. She reached the end of the hall and climbed down a long metal ladder. No one would find her here. If she died, no one could hear her scream.

If anyone cared...

Elizabeth closed her eyes and tears fell. She felt so empty, so alone.

“Alone, Elizabeth? It must suck to be you.”

Elizabeth turned around, and saw Myers behind her. “What are you doing here?”

“Not to visit you, that's for sure.” He turned around, and his voice lit up with enthusiasm. “I came to see this place. Can't you feel it?”

Elizabeth frowned. She honestly had no idea what he was talking about.

But Myers didn't seem to notice. “There are very few things that are blocked from me, sister. I can hear every single thought on this ship. I know almost every secret. And yet, this place calls to me more than anywhere else. Why is that?” He turned on a flashlight. “Your captain tried to enlist us to help him earlier. Isn't that funny?”

Once again, Elizabeth didn't say a word.

Myers smirked and spotted something with his flashlight. “Ah, here we are...”

Elizabeth followed his gaze. Etched on the metal wall were two words in red: Help Us. “When was this written?”

“Several years ago,” Myers said. “Maintenance workers have washed this wall again and again. But they can't hide the truth. Not from me. See these words on the wall?”

“They are coming,” she read out loud. “I don't understand.”

“I told you before, I can hear every thought on this vessel,” Myers said. “But even more than that, I can also hear the voices of those that came before. They are screaming in anger, and rage.” He glanced around in excitement. “The past is coming back to haunt us, Lizzie. And if we don't learn from our mistakes, we're doomed to repeat them. The crew of the Vigilant is going to die soon. Maybe tonight. Probably tomorrow.”

“How can you possibly know that?”

Myers glanced up at the ceiling, and his smile deepened. “If I were you, sister, I wouldn't ask for answers. I would demand them. Rip them out of their minds like I've already done.”

“That's wrong!”

Myers snorted. “Believe me, the definition of right and wrong can get a little fuzzy after you've poked around in their heads for a while.”

Suddenly the intercom chimed. “Elizabeth Daw-Dawson, p-please report to medical,” Neilson said over the radio.

“You better go,” Myers said in amusement. “Run along, little telepath, to the people who don't give a shit about you.”

Without replying, Elizabeth turned and left.

* * * *

Twenty minutes later, she sat cross-legged on the bio-bed as Neilson slowly scanned her head. “Your APG, which represents your telepathic energy, is pretty high. Your adrenaline is a little on the high side, too, but that's to be expected after everything you've been through. Overall I'd say your norm-m—” Neilson closed his eyes with an impatient sigh. “Normal.”

Elizabeth stared at him for a moment. “The other telepaths said their powers were growing.”

“Perhaps,” Neilson said. “This isn't exactly a normal area of space we're in.” He turned to his surgical tray. “Thanks for letting me s-scan you, by the way. None of the other telepaths w-will.”

“No ... I don't really like them either,” Elizabeth admitted.

“Really?”

“I was just talking to one of them before you paged. Myers. He seemed to be obsessed with something that happened to the Vigilant before. Probably the massacre.”

Elizabeth heard something sharp hit the tray.

“N-no one w-w-wants to know what h-h-happened! J-Just leave it!” Neilson snapped.

Whoa. Elizabeth could see that the medical officer's hands were shaking. “Hey, are you all right?”

Neilson glared at her. “J-Just ignore the other tele-telepaths. We have other things to w-worry about.”

Startled by the odd response, all she could think to say was “Thanks.” Quickly she left the medical room and took a deep breath. The doctor might be right. The original Vigilant crew had been explorers, but there was never any record of them ever meeting the Soulites.

There was only one person that could help her. Unfortunately, that was Telsia. Gathering her courage, the telepath walked to the security office and pushed the buzzer.

Telsia opened the door, and appeared considerably surprised to see her. “Yes?”

“I need to ask you something.”

The security chief raised her eyebrow and stepped back, permitting Elizabeth to enter. “I don't have a lot of time. What do you want?”

“What happened on the day of the massacre?” Elizabeth asked. “You were the only survivor that day. What caused it? Where was the Vigilant at the time?”

Telsia looked up with her gray eyes, even more surprised. “We were orbiting Pluto. Why should it matter to you?”

“Did you ever meet the Soulites?” Elizabeth persisted.

“Of course not,” Telsia said calmly. “If you had bothered to read my report then you would know we were returning back to Earth at the time. The entire crew contracted a disease and went insane. The disease in question came from some fungus samples we had picked up the day before. I only survived because I was not obsessed in exploring every detail of the universe.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” Elizabeth asked.

“It means my original crew died because they were too curious for their own good.” Without another word, Telsia pushed past her and left the office.

“Wait, that's it?” Elizabeth demanded.

Telsia didn't bother to reply as the doors closed behind her.

Elizabeth's fists clenched angrily. She glanced at Telsia's computer.

[Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter 10

So far Neilson's night had been pretty easy. A few people had come in to complain of headaches, which didn't surprise him. For the past few days everyone had been living in a dark ship with very little artificial light. Unless they restored main power soon, the problem would get worse instead of better.

Neilson glanced at his watch. This would usually be the time where most of the crew would assemble in the mess hall. He always ate in his office. Very few people had ever seen him outside of medical. Under no circumstances did he want to be emotionally connected to this crew.

He grabbed a cup of coffee from the machine and gazed at the window. Technically it was just a hologram, not unlike the view-screen. Since it was off-line, he was watching a black screen with an error message dancing across it.

Neilson took a sip of coffee. He already knew what was beyond the window: an endless sea of pulsing green liquid. Officially, he had never been off-world before, but that was a lie. He had been in this area of space before and had prayed never to see it again.

Suddenly Neilson realized that he wasn't alone. Telsia was standing behind him.

“Hello, Neilson.”

“Telsia. Hello,” Neilson said, startled. “Are you ill?”

Telsia snorted as though the very thought was ridiculous. “It's been a while.”

“Y-yes, it has. You haven't changed that much.”

“You have. I don't remember you having a stutter before.”

Neilson looked away, a bit nervously.

“Why are you on the Vigilant?” Telsia demanded.

“NAVA wants me to be here,” he said. “Trust me, I never asked to be back on the Vigilant.”

Telsia stared at him, her gray eyes burning with accusation.

“I wanted to tell people the truth, you know. About what happened to the first crew of the Vigilant,” Neilson said. “But NAVA threatened to kill my family if I did. They're all I have left.” He focused his attention on a metal tray beside him. “Elizabeth was asking questions earlier.”

“I'm going to deal with her,” Telsia said. “Someone tried to kill me earlier because of what we know. Watch your back.”

“You're not going to tell the captain the truth?” Neilson asked, astonished.

“When we returned to Earth, the first time I tried to tell NAVA the truth they denounced me as the crazy woman. After that, my career was ruined. You certainly weren't any help at the time, as I recall. You publicly agreed I was insane and should be locked up.”

Neilson couldn't meet her eyes.

“I have my own reasons not to tell anyone, and it's not because I'm afraid.” Telsia stared at him with contempt. “You, on the other hand, haven't changed at all, Neilson. You were a coward then, and you're a coward now.”

Coward? He silently watched her stiff back as she strode out of medical. Well, you don't know the half of it.

* * * *

The cameras in the security office flickered, then went out.

Telepaths were able to read minds, but those with a higher level were also able to directly interfere and manipulate energy fields. Elizabeth had very little fear of being discovered; very few people would go willingly to the security level nowadays. Once all the cameras were out, Elizabeth reached out with her senses but could not detect anyone in the security wing.

Telsia was clearly lying, and Elizabeth had to discover the truth. The security chief's office was in a state of disarray and still needed to be organized. Elizabeth frowned as she smelled blood. With a feeling of dread, she moved to the leather chair.

The NAVA logo, the picture of a blue N, ping-ponged from one corner of Telsia's computer to the other. With a tap of a command key, Elizabeth cleared that away. It was replaced by a blank blue screen.

She had no time to delay. Elizabeth stretched out her hand over the keyboard. Instantly keys pressed down at a rate of two hundred words a minute. Some part of her knew this was impossible. Very few telepaths had telekinetic manipulation and certainly not her. Yet it was only a stray thought against the constant buzzing of her mind. It took only a few seconds to locate the files from the time of the massacre and retrieve them from the hard drive. Although the files were password protected, Elizabeth broke through in seconds.

A single log file appeared on the screen, which launched automatically. Telsia stood in a dark hall, her body covered head to toe with blood. In her left hand was the barrel of a shotgun. Elizabeth watched the security chief fall to the ground. “I'm alone ... there's no one left...” Telsia whispered. “The Soulites ... they're here...”

The screen flickered and displayed a black screen until a green spark trickled downward, and the entire screen exploded with green light. Then the screen turned into static and shut off. Elizabeth touched the computer, absolutely mystified.

A hand clamped down on her shoulder. “What the hell are you doing?” Telsia demanded.

* * * *

It was at least three o'clock in the morning, and Mark needed to get up in five hours. Seeing how he had spent the last forty-eight hours awake, he decided it was probably a good time to turn in. Despite everything that had happened over the past two days, the one thing he thought about the most was Elizabeth. She was clearly different from any telepath he had ever met, and definitely beautiful. No, it was ridiculous. He had more reason to despise telepaths than anyone, and she was no exception.

Mark decided to take a shortcut and cut across the gymnasium. As soon as he made it halfway past the benches, the lights plunged out.

The first officer stopped dead in his tracks. He glanced to the left and right as six men approached from either side. Because of the darkness, he couldn't discern their features. Mark watched them gather around him. He knew that this was bound to happen. Actually, he was surprised it had taken this long.

“You could avoid this, you know,” an ensign said, murder in her eyes. “Just tell us how to get back to our universe. Maybe they'll only give you a court-martial.”

Mark swallowed. There was no way to escape. “Let's get this over with.”

Mark lost track of how many times they hit him. At one point something hard flew toward his head, and he sank into a merciful unconsciousness. When he next opened his eyes, he saw a blue light buzzing over his head. It could have been minutes, or days later. The entire room was pitch black. He turned his head and saw the doctor scanning him. “What happened?”

“T-t-ry and hold still. You may have internal injuries,” Neilson said. “They broke several of your ribs, your wrist, and stabbed you once in the back. But I've already operated and fixed that.”

Mark lifted his wrist. There was a small black cast around it. He felt absolutely no pain in his arm and could probably use it again in a couple of hours. NAVA medical technology at its usual fine standards. He tried to sit up and a hiss of pain escaped his lips.

“Hold st-t-ill,” Neilson ordered again.

Mark stared at the ceiling. “Who brought me in?”

“Chief Engineer Davids. Okay, it seems like you're fine, but try and take it easy for the next twelve hours.” Neilson injected the contents of a vial into Mark's arm. “For the pain.”

Mark took a deep breath and stood. “Does Renolds know?

“He knows. You could have fought back.” Neilson starred at him with curiosity. “You could have killed them. No one would have bl ... blamed you.”

Mark smirked. “Yeah. Sure. What do a few more deaths matter to me?”

“I don't know. What does it matter to you?” Neilson asked sarcastically.

“Thank you, Doctor,” Mark said, having no desire to continue the conversation.

* * * *

In his quarters, Renolds finished a report he would eventually, with any luck, be sending to NAVA. There were no signs of any ships pursuing the Vigilant. Maintenance was scrubbing off the residue from their last attack. Surprisingly, the Soulites didn't cause any damage. Not so much as a scratch on the hull.

There was only one piece of bad news. Apparently Thadius had decided to encrypt the data retrieved from the ship, Seclusion. Ordias was working on it, but he said it could take a while. Renolds sighed. He had no idea what his next move would be.

A few minutes later Telsia entered his quarters. She glanced to the left and right with cold eyes before settling her focus on him. “You wanted to see me?”

“Yes, Telsia. Come in, please.”

As soon as she entered, Telsia immediately noticed Carl sitting on the couch. She took a step toward him and anger flashed in her gray eyes.

“Carl has been telling me some interesting things a subordinate told him,” Renolds said. “Have a seat.”

“No,” Telsia said.

Renolds leaned back in his chair. “To perhaps answer one of your questions, Carl is not under NAVA law, and his status falls under civilian code. He was not violating any orders by revealing your conversation to me.”

Telsia stared at Renolds. “And yet half an hour ago he was running your ship.”

“It's my ship. I'm allowed to do anything I want with it. Within reason,” Renolds stated.

There was a tense moment of silence.

“Besides,” Renolds added. “I happen to know who these extra personnel are.”

Telsia's gaze shifted from Carl to Renolds. “What? Who are they?”

“A special unit of officers. They work completely invisible to the crew and answer to NAVA alone.”

“Why are they here?”

“Well, originally, I requested them. To watch Mark.” Renolds frowned. “Why? Are they targeting someone else?”

“No,” Telsia said quickly.

“Unfortunately, since they answer to NAVA command, I am unaware of much of their dealings. However, they also take direct orders from me. It may surprise you to know, Telsia, that virtually every ship has them. Only their leader is a registered crew member.”

“Who is that?”

Renolds sipped from his mug. “Sorry, I'm not at liberty to divulge his or her name. It is enough to know that they are here, with the best interests of the crew in mind. And they're here to stay.”

“I know every person on this ship,” Telsia said. “I will find them.”

“I highly doubt that,” Renolds said calmly. “I expect this secret to be kept between the three of us. Dismissed.”

Telsia looked as though she wanted to add something further, but didn't. Her gray eyes narrowed, and with a crisp salute she left the room. Renolds released a breath. Carl remained sitting.

“How are you handling this?” Renolds asked.

“I felt a lot better not knowing they were here, sir,” Carl replied.

“They're necessary. During the war of the Resistance, there were hundreds of people trying to infiltrate our ranks. And many succeeded. The Resistance was far more clever and closer to winning the war than anyone in NAVA command will ever admit to. The infiltrators were taken out, quickly and quietly.”

Carl stood, about to leave. He turned back. “Sir ... is Mark in any danger?”

“And if he is?” Renolds asked. “Whose side would you be on, Carl? His, or mine?”

“This isn't a contest.”

“No, it's far deadlier. That's still not an answer, though.” Renolds swallowed, trying to hide his anger. “You're a smart man, so I don't think I need to tell you that you're involved in a dangerous game. They left Mark alive because they weren't positive he was involved in bringing us here. If they ever do think that way, they'll shut him down for good, as well as anyone else who tries to help him.”

“NAVA policy?” Carl asked, then frowned. “You ordered the attack on Mark?”

Renolds glared at him. “Don't test me, Carl. More importantly, don't get in their way. If you do, I won't lift a finger from stopping whatever would happen to you. But I would sure as hell regret it. Dismissed.”

Carl looked just as angry and disappointed as he felt. Wordlessly the Chief Engineer headed toward the door.

“Carl,” Renolds called out. “Choose your friends better next time.”

Carl didn't stop, and the doors closed behind him. A moment later the door chimed again.

“Come in,” Renolds said.

Hannah entered the captain's office. Her lips were twisted in a smirk, and there was a cold detachment in her eyes. A moment later it was gone, replaced by the warm, caring if slightly naive ensign in charge of Operations. “I have a status report from all departments, Captain.”

“Thank you,” Renolds said.

[Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter 11

An hour later, all of the senior staff had turned in, along with most of the crew. There were only two people working in the last hours of the night.

“Look at all this gunk!” Tim snapped. “And they want us to clear it off by morning?”

“That's what the captain said,” Sandra's musical voice floated from the main junction. Like Tim, she was a maintenance worker. On the screen in front of her was an overview of the ship. The purple splatter from the Soulite ship covered almost one quarter of the hull.

Tim slowly walked down the corridor with a flashlight. “Seems like some of it is leaking into the ship. We can start over there.” Carrying a yellow toolbox, he approached the wall. It felt a little eerie, not having ship-wide power on. He kneeled down on the floor and took out a pair of forceps. “Chemical department probably wants a sample for analysis.” Tim lifted the trail of slime with the forceps and stared at it for a moment.

The slime moved.

“Whoa!” Tim shouted. The forceps dropped to the ground with a clatter.

“Did you say something?” Sandra asked.

Tim didn't reply as the slime wiggled again and grew. Finally he stood and ran out of the hall. “Hey, whatever this stuff is, it's spreading over the ship! We've got to warn the cap—”

Sandra took out her gun. “No.” She fired.

Three bullets went into Tim, and he sank to the ground, covered with blood. “..tain,” he whispered.

It was his final word.

* * * *

When Mark entered the cafeteria the next morning, it was packed with people. He spotted Carl sitting at one of the benches by himself. There was an assortment of papers on the table in front of him. The chief engineer held one up while drinking a cup of coffee. Mark walked toward him. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Carl returned.

“What are you doing?”

Carl gave him a small smile. “Trying to redefine space. Maybe I can figure out a way for this ship to go faster. I dunno. Sym's working on it.” He gestured at the empty chair. “Want something to eat?”

“No. I think it's better if I eat in my quarters.” He observed people around him eating and chatting, but a large number of them were talking in hushed whispers as they darted glances at him. The first officer focused on Carl again. “Um, thanks. For what you did. I heard it was you who saved my life.”

“You would have done the same for me,” Carl said dismissively.

Mark then sat down. “Apologies don't come easily nowadays, but I haven't forgotten what I said to you in the shuttle. I know I had the wrong impression.”

“It's understandable. I have no rank. Undoubtedly, the captain told you I'm not officially part of NAVA military.” He took another sip of coffee.

“And yet Renolds trusts you enough to command this ship.”

Carl smiled again. “The captain and I go way back. We used to be good friends until ... recently. I used to have a rank. A lieutenant commander. I was a pilot serving with Captain Osirus. At the time, he was only a lieutenant. I knew the right people, so I shot up the ranks very quickly, faster than he did. But I left NAVA and joined with Symbocom.”

“Why?” Mark asked, honestly curious.

“I dunno. Call it a desire to be something more. At the time, it was fairly new technology and pretty scary. The procedure was ... is, experimental at best, but it worked.”

“So you're ... what? Half-man, half-machine?” Mark asked.

“More like ninety-five percent human, five percent machine. But I'm machine where it counts,” Carl said with a wink.

“You're also super-intelligent.”

Carl put down his papers to stare thoughtfully out the window. “Something like that. Everything I see is equations. This universe is one big puzzle for me to figure out.”

“So how did you get to be on this ship?”

“The captain wanted me on board. He pulled some strings, since quantum physics is now my specialty. I'm the first one from Symbocom to even leave the institution.” Carl finished his coffee. “He's a good man, you know. The captain. Maybe you should give him a chance.”

Mark snorted. “Not many people on this crew will give me a chance.”

“Can you blame them?”

Mark frowned at him. “Why, do you?”

Carl thought about it. “No. But then, I wasn't in the war.”

The two men looked up as the lights flickered back on. People around them cheered.

“Main power has been restored,” Carl said.

The lights shut off. Everyone groaned.

“And there it goes,” Carl said. With a smirk he stood from the bench. “I think I'm needed in engineering.”

“Good luck,” Mark said.

* * * *

Ensign Daniels arrived yawning on the bridge, and craving a really big cup of coffee. The captain was scheduled to be on the bridge in an hour, and she had to prepare a status report for him. She activated the com. “Maintenance department, how are you coming along with getting that gunk off the hull?”

There was no reply. “Maintenance department?”

Again, there was no reply. Suddenly she heard a scream followed by two gunshots.

Hannah activated the com again. “Captain.”

A very tired voice answered. “What is it?”

“I'm sorry to bother you, sir, but maintenance is not answering, and I heard gunshots on the intercom,” Hannah reported.

“Understood. I'm on my way up.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Suddenly the dim emergency lights around her turned green. A siren wailed and a mechanical voice intoned, “Warning. Radiation leak detected. Evacuate bridge immediately. Emergency. Radiation levels past safety thresholds. Evacuate bridge immediately.”

* * * *

Carl frowned as the screen he was working on suddenly turned off. “What the hell?” he whispered. The chief engineer took out a flashlight from the panel above his head and flicked it on as members of his morning staff did the same.

“It's very likely a problem with one of the back-up generators. Do you want me to check it out, Carl?” Ordias offered.

“No. I've got it.” Carl climbed down a ladder to a small storage room where they had set up the generators. Immediately he knew something was wrong. It wasn't a problem with the wiring. The generator itself was twisted and bent out of shape. Carl picked a broken wrench up off the floor. There was blood splattered on the metal. Carl touched it with his fingertips.

A thin coil suddenly wrapped around Carl's throat and yanked him backward and off his feet. He grabbed at the cord but it dug tighter into his throat. Carl gagged and struggled blindly. Through his rapidly graying vision he saw the face of his attacker. “Ordias?” he choked.

“I should have gotten the promotion, you bastard,” Ordias said, in a voice that barely sounded human.

Carl tried to elbow the assistant engineer; the maneuver was easily deflected. Carl's vision passed from gray to red to black, and his hand fell with a thump to the ground. His lips whitened, and his open blue eyes had no life in them.

Ordias waited a few minutes until he was sure Carl was dead before slowly unwrapping the golden wire now stained red with blood. Carl's head connected sharply with the concrete. Ordias took the wrench from his hand, and with a loose grin on his face, smashed the control panel.

* * * *

Renolds flicked on his flashlight, still frowning. Something wasn't right. Usually the level would be full of people, but he had yet to meet anyone. It didn't help that only emergency lights were on, and he couldn't see anything past the hallway. Slowly, the captain walked into the cafeteria. The silence made him uneasy.

A metallic sound made him glance up; the sound of a metal plate being slammed against the table. Renolds lifted his flashlight and saw a woman sprawled out on the table, eating a plateful of spaghetti with her bare hands. “Crewman Tamara?” he whispered.

She slurped a spaghetti noodle into her mouth, and chewed it noisily. The petty officer stared at him with her bright green eyes.

Renolds moved closer. “What are you—”

Tamara grabbed a knife from the table and lunged. Renolds overbalanced and fell backward.

“Must ... eat!” Tamara shouted. Her hand, coated in blood, smeared against his forehead. A second later her head jerked forward. Following a cry, her eyes rolled up in her head, and she collapsed on him.

With a cough, Renolds shoved her away and stood. He glanced at Mark, looking very wide-eyed and holding a broken water-vase. He dropped the shards, and they fell to the carpet with soft sounds. “What the hell is going on?”

Renolds wiped the blood off his forehead. Without speaking, he moved past the shocked officer and activated the wall intercom. “Bridge, this is the captain.”

Silence answered back. It wasn't a mechanical problem, or else they would hear hissing static. There was only silence. “Computer, locate personnel on bridge.”

“No personnel located on the bridge,” the mechanical voice replied.

“Locate personnel in engineering.”

“No personnel located in engineering.”

Renolds's heart sped up. There were always people in engineering. “Locate personnel in medical.”

“No personnel located in medical.”

The floor trembled a little. It didn't feel like an outward attack. More like an explosion somewhere close by. Renolds swallowed. At least the intercom was still working. He activated it ship wide.

“Now what are you doing?” Mark asked.

“I'm going to warn the crew,” Renolds said.

“Why? We don't even know what's going on! Besides, these people just saw Earth destroyed and were almost killed by an unknown alien species. Do you think now is a good time to tell them that things might be a tad crazy?”

“I don't care. I'm still going to warn them.”

“Well, at least try not to freak them out,” Mark advised.

“Mark, not two minutes ago, one of my ensigns tried to stab me to death with an eating utensil. I'm freaking out.” Renolds activated the com. “All hands, this is the captain.” What could he possibly say? “There is an unknown contagion aboard the ship. All personnel are to remain calm and stay where they are. If anyone feels strange, they should report to medical immediately. Captain out.”

“Well done,” Mark said sarcastically. “I, for one, wouldn't have been terrified by that message in the least.”

Renolds glanced at Mark. “First time, okay? We should get to engineering. We're close enough already.” He led the way, praying the computer had just malfunctioned, and that there were actually people in engineering.

[Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter 12

Elizabeth was bored. She'd had no idea how dull it could be in the brig, and Telsia had given her no indication of how long she was going to spend there. Knowing the security chief, probably years.

They both heard Renolds's announcement. The security chief immediately walked to the supply locker and grabbed a loaded shotgun. Her face was expressionless, but the hand on her weapon trembled a little.

“Wait! Where are you going?” Elizabeth demanded from her cell.

“To find any survivors and secure them in their quarters by any means necessary.”

It was strange. Elizabeth had no idea what was going on. Yet Telsia seemed very calm and collected. “Let me come with you.”

Telsia regarded her with surprise. Then her eyes narrowed, and she turned away, about to leave.

Elizabeth's eyes focused, and patches of the blue restraining field started to dissolve in front of her lightly stretched hand. She stepped closer to the crackling field. Judging by the faint blue glow, she had severely weakened the field. In another few minutes she could break it entirely. There was an easier way, however. “Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't your first responsibility to the safety of your fellow crew members? I don't really feel safe here.”

Telsia just stared at Elizabeth.

“I want to help. If you won't let me, I'll just break this field and come after you anyway.”

“You must have a death wish,” the security chief said. Then, she pressed a button stationed on the upper wall above Elizabeth's cell and the field disappeared. Without saying another word, Telsia walked out the door.

Elizabeth ran after her.

* * * *

Renolds couldn't help but gasp at the level of destruction as he and Mark entered engineering. Every single control panel was bent and smashed. The captain could see the reactor core had suffered damage as well. It was now freely discharging electricity. Bodies littered the ground, most of them Carl's engineering staff. The computer had been right. There was no one alive in engineering. “What happened here?”

Mark bent down next to a body and consulted his scanner. “This was crewman Ordias. I count at least six bullet holes in his chest.”

Renolds scratched his forehead. He'd known there would be fatalities on this mission, but this was the very first one he had ever seen.

Mark glanced at him. “You all right?”

“Yes,” Renolds replied. “Let's keep moving. Try and find Carl.”

Mark stood and highlighted a ladder with his flashlight. “I've found something.”

* * * *

Even though Carl was dead, his symbiot was not. Unknown to everyone else, a symbiot had its own artificial intelligence, an intelligence that became active when it sensed something wrong. It addressed the situation and noted that its host had no life signs. After scanning for any internal damage and finding none, it sent electrical pulses to the host's heart, starting in low intensity but building higher when the host was unresponsive. In two minutes, it was rewarded with the host's vital signs returning.

The moment they did, however, the symbiot went back to its slumber.

* * * *

Carl's eyes flew open and he coughed violently through white lips. He clutched the ladder he was propped against for support. The chief engineer searched but could see no sign of his attacker.

“Easy, Carl,” Renolds said, gripping his shoulders. “You're going to be all right.”

Carl drew in a deep breath and coughed again.

Mark stared at Carl, not without some concern. The chief engineer was pretty much the only friend he had. He touched Carl's neck. “These are deep. Someone tried to strangle him to death.”

“Are you all right?” Renolds asked.

A few moments later Carl nodded, and his body relaxed against the ladder.

“Let's see if we can find him some water,” Renolds suggested.

“Who did this to you?” Mark asked.

Carl's eyes widened. “Ordias,” he muttered, his throat raspy and barely understandable.

He whirled around and climbed up the ladder, moving so fast that Renolds couldn't stop him save for a failed snatch at his boot. Quickly Renolds and Mark hurried up after him.

Carl made it to the middle of the room before stopping in his tracks as he surveyed the damage. The core had been smashed, and was blackened. “Oh my God,” he said as he studied the reactor core. His voice was a lot clearer. “That's a lot of damage, Captain.”

“Is it repairable?” Renolds asked.

“Hell, no.”

“Well, it's okay. Who needs weapons and energy shields in hostile territory, anyway?” Mark muttered sarcastically. “Maybe I should paint a huge bulls-eye on the bridge just to give the Soulites something to shoot at next time! Or maybe I should blow up the armory just to make things more fun.”

There was a loud explosion on the level above. Mark, Carl and Renolds stepped away as flaming debris rained down.

“What was that?” Mark demanded.

“That was the sound of our armory exploding, Commander,” Renolds replied.

“Which held what, ninety-percent of our weapons?” Carl asked.

“Ninety-five,” Mark said quietly.

More debris fell.

“Okay, that was not my fault,” Mark said.

“You jinxed it, not me,” Carl said.

“Come on,” Renolds said. “It's time we went to the bridge.”

* * * *

They had managed to find a supply locker along the way. Carl wiped the blood off his face and neck with a wet towel.

“You sure you're okay?” Mark asked.

Carl shrugged. “Ordias was a good man. I can't believe he would do anything like this.”

“How well did you know him?”

“Five years. I knew his wife and kids.” He focused on Renolds. “Trust me, he wasn't the type to murder me and kill himself. Something else is going on here, Captain.”

“That's for sure,” Renolds agreed. He touched a control to the door. “We can make it to the bridge from here.” The doors opened.

Carl gasped. Mark stepped back, startled. In the room, three bodies swung from the railing above. It was the rest of Carl's engineering staff. Their pale, tormented faces stared back at the three officers.

Mark turned on his scanner. “Dead. They were dead three hours ago.”

“What the hell is going on?” Carl whispered.

“Okay,” Renolds said, his hands stretched out. “Let's just back up very slowly.”

They did so, and the doors closed in their faces. “There's another way around. Through storage bay five,” Mark said.

Carl's face was as white as a sheet.

Renolds grabbed the chief engineer's shoulder. “Let's go, Carl.”

“Yeah,” Carl whispered. “Sure.”

* * * *

They entered through storage bay five, and what they saw was not any better. A dead security guard lay on the ground with a bullet hole through his forehead. Carl's flashlight picked up a long web of dynamite on the ground. “I think he was planning to blow himself up and most of the deck in the process.”

“The emergency ladders aren't too far from here. With those, we can get to the bridge,” Renolds said.

Carl was about to follow the captain when something caught his eye. He frowned. There was a pack of matches on the floor. Carl bent down and picked it up. He stared at the label. NAVA brand, of course. Why did he feel so strange? Why did he suddenly feel like everything was so meaningless? He lit a match and tossed it. The match bounced against the floor and sputtered out.

Mark and Renolds turned around in shock. Carl lit another match.

“Carl, what are you doing?” Renolds demanded nervously. The chief engineer was right in the center of the web of dynamite. “Stop!”

Carl looked up at him once and tossed the match to the ground. Mark and Renolds instantly backed away, not that it would do any good.

It sputtered against the blue marble and went out.

Mark stepped toward him. “Carl, listen to me—” he began, which turned out to be a big mistake.

Quicker than Renolds's eye could follow, Carl slid Mark's gun from his hoister, removed the safety and pointed it at Renolds.

Mark stopped dead in his tracks.

“Easy, son. You don't want to do this,” Renolds said soothingly.

Carl's blue eyes were wide and moving frantically. Everything was so jumbled, and he couldn't figure it out. “Can't go back to what I was ... Can't calculate to get out of my head ... Too many variables ... too many ... something wrong...”

“Just give me the gun, Carl, and we'll talk,” Mark said.

Carl pointed the gun at Mark. His lower lip trembled and his hand started to shake.

“Too many numbers ... Can't focus ... Alien presence ... Must get out.” He reversed the gun and pointed it at his own head. “Only way ... We'll all end like this...”

He pulled the trigger.

* * * *

“No!” Renolds shouted. He launched himself at the chief engineer. The bullet missed Carl and hit the window behind him. The glass shattered and air was sucked out of the room.

Renolds glanced down at Carl, who was trying to get the gun again. A steel pipe lay nearby. Much as the captain hated to, he grabbed it and swung at Carl's head. They both collapsed and slid forward. “Mark!”

Mark was already at his side and grabbed his arm. With his help, Renolds stood, and hauled Carl onto his feet. They were able to escape out the door. Renolds hit a button, and the doors slid closed.

Mark gently lowered Carl to the floor.

“How is he?” Renolds demanded.

Mark touched Carl's neck. “Still alive, despite his attempts to be otherwise. He should be out for a while.”

The ship lurched. Renolds and Mark were hurled off the floor and slammed into the opposite wall.

“Full stop. The engines are dead. It'll take us hours to start them up again,” Mark said.

“That,” Renolds said as he gave Mark a hand up, “is the least of our worries.”

The ship shuddered again, but to a lesser extent. This time Mark and Renolds were able to stay on their feet. “Computer, what was that?” Renolds asked in confusion.

No response. Mark went to a panel read-out and started a scan of the entire deck. “Weapon fire from shuttle control. I'm detecting a massive power build-up coming from that section as well. Someone is trying to activate the shuttle's engines.”

“What?” Renolds asked, horrified. “The shuttles are pointed inward toward the ship. If someone powered up a shuttle ... We could lose half the ship! Come on!”

They both ran down the hall.

[Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter 13

A few minutes later Renolds and Mark stopped running. At the end of the hall was an ensign. Renolds had once briefly met her at the beginning of his voyage and couldn't remember her name. She was bathed in sweat, and her short red hair was matted to her head. Drool ran from her lips and she held up a knife coated with blood. Renolds felt queasy just staring at her.

The ensign wasn't alone. Renolds could see silhouettes of people behind her. He counted at least twenty. The door to the shuttle bay was between them and the mob. Renolds gulped. A second later he made a run for the doors with Mark right behind him.

Shrieking, the woman ran at them, moving so fast that she was nothing but a blur. Mark grabbed the knife from his belt and hurled it at her throat before she could touch Renolds. The momentum caused her to fly backward. Renolds slammed his hand on the controls to open the door. But that split-second proved costly for Mark. Another officer dove at his legs. Mark started to topple. By this time Renolds was already moving. He grabbed the first officer and hauled him with all his strength through the open doorway. He closed the door between him and the mob.

Mark was breathing hard. “Thanks.”

Renolds nodded. “Not a problem.”

They jumped back as the doors thundered with the sound of pounding fists. The door panel exploded in sparks. With growing dismay Renolds realized they were locked in the shuttle bay.

“This is bad,” Mark said.

“What's happening to my ship?” Renolds whispered. This was like a nightmare he couldn't wake up from.

He pushed his fear away and focused on the situation at hand. The shuttle pointed toward them, and judging by the piercing whine and clouds of white smoke, it would be active in a matter of minutes. A lieutenant with a mad glare in his eye was cutting through the shuttle control panel with a blowtorch. As soon as he saw Renolds and Mark, he dropped the torch and stumbled toward them, trying to pull a gun from his belt.

Mark reacted instantly. He took out his nine millimeter and fired twice. The lieutenant fell to the ground, dead. Another three men emerged from the shadows. Mark shot but managed to take out only two before his gun clicked empty.

While Mark was engaged, Renolds wasted no time. He ran to the shuttle and threw open the hatch. An ensign looked up at him, grinning foolishly with drool running down his lips. A shout made Renolds turn his head.

A lone lieutenant ran straight for Mark. Mark side-stepped the attack, took out his knife and buried it into the man's spine. Mark grabbed the lieutenant's gun and aimed high, just as a man dove at him from above, his knife flashing. It sliced into Mark's arm just as Mark's gun exploded against his chest. The momentum caused both of them to crash into the ground. The officer's eyes rolled up, and he collapsed in Mark's arms, dead.

With a shudder of disgust Mark stood and glanced to the left. The shuttle would be powered up within seconds. The first officer ran to the control panel and pushed a few buttons, trying to rotate the shuttle platform outward into space.

“Access Denied. Error twenty-eight,” a mechanical voice intoned.

Mark retyped the code, and got the same message. He yanked the panel out and saw that half the wires were melted. There was no way he could fix the damage. “Renolds! Get out of there!”

Renolds elbowed the ensign sharply in the face, and flew to the shuttle control panel. He pushed a few buttons and dove out of the shuttle. Once he was back on his feet he ran for his life.

Behind him, the screen on the shuttle was flashing, Self-destruct Active: 00:02, 00:01, 00:00.

* * * *

A hissing sound woke Renolds. He found himself lying on the floor, a deck below the shuttle bay. He reached out and touched fabric. A shirt. He was in a closet. Miraculously, he was sore but unharmed. Wincing, the captain stood and noticed the hissing sound came from a broken pipe. A dozen warnings beeped from above. He could see no sign of Mark. “Commander!” he shouted. “Mark, where are you?”

No response. With a grimace of effort, Renolds slowly climbed out of the half-melted ceiling to the shuttle bay. The floor was completely black. The shuttle was a piece of flaming debris and the rest of the docking bay was in shambles.

Rubbing the back of his neck, he followed the smoldering ribbon of blue plastic that had once been the control panel. He had blown up one of his three shuttles, not to mention half the deck.

“Great. Just peachy,” Renolds whispered. “If Mark was caught in the blast ... Commander!”

He finally spotted Mark on the far side of the cargo bay, struggling to his feet.

“You all right?”

“Yeah,” Mark said. A second later the first officer joined the captain.

“I thought I had—”

“Killed me? That'll be the day. I figured you would blow up the shuttle. So what's our next move?”

“Bridge,” Renolds said.

* * * *

Another explosion caused the two officers to detour through what used to be the science wing of the ship. There was nothing left but scattered ash and melted furniture. Both officers checked, without success, for any survivors. Mark counted at least twenty dead bodies. All of the science department were accounted for, and some of the medical personnel. Mark brushed away the ash from a metal table. “This is bad.”

“Yeah,” Renolds agreed. “What I'm curious about is why this virus, or whatever it is, is working on people within seconds, yet we're not infected. Why?”

“Maybe it's just a matter of time,” the first officer replied, but there was something in his voice that implied he was hiding something.

“Mark, if you know something, now is a good time to start talking. You can trust me!”

Mark gave a short laugh. “Oh, please. Trust you? Every time I look at you, all I see is NAVA starring back at me. Your men almost beat me to death yesterday, remember? The ones you hired.”

“How do you—”

“Because I know more about NAVA than you ever will. I know all their policies, even the classified ones.”

Renolds stared at him. “If you're hoping for an apology, Commander, it's not going to happen. You deserved what happened to you. In fact you deserved a lot more. In my mind, you got off pretty easy.”

“So you would have preferred it if they had killed me. Good to know.”

“No, that's not what I mean. You're here for a reason, just like the rest of us. A reason we need to figure out. Think about it. Why would you, of all people, be on the only ship transported to this god-forsaken territory? Besides, you saved my life. That's not something I find easy to forget.”

“Well, if the Resistance had won, maybe you would think of me differently. History is written by the victors.”

Renolds considered this disturbing thought for a moment. “I think we've had enough of a break.”

“Yeah. Let's go,” Mark agreed.

* * * *

Elizabeth stared in horror at the bloody smears across the wall of the corridor. “This is happening all over the ship?”

“Very probably,” Telsia said. Suddenly she whirled around, shotgun raised, pointed at Mark and Renolds.

“Whoa. Hello,” Mark said.

Renolds asked, “Are you guys all right?”

“Could be better.” Telsia reluctantly lowered her weapon.

“Captain, what's going on?” Elizabeth asked.

“What's going on?” Renolds repeated. “Our crew is going insane, and we already have several fatalities. It's like a virus. A contagion.”

“But how did it start?” Elizabeth asked.

“Probably by whatever that ship hit us with. Think about it. We already know the weapons are bio-organic,” Renolds said. “The question is—how is this virus spread?”

“Maybe by blood,” Mark spoke up. “Everyone we've come into contact with had some sort of wound on them.”

“We need to find the doctor,” Renolds said. He walked over to the intercom and flicked it on. “Sickbay. Dr. Neilson.”

Neilson didn't answer, but Elizabeth could hear a distinct, piercing whine.

“Hopefully he's already working on the problem,” Renolds said. “Nevertheless, I'm going to pay him a visit.”

“He better be up for the job. We need to find the cure before every member of this crew goes on a killing spree,” Telsia said. “Who knows how many we've lost already?”

Renolds frowned. “Telsia, we're going to need a security lockdown. Everyone in their respective sections. Meanwhile, you and Elizabeth scavenge for medical supplies, weapons, provisions, anything we can use. No one goes anywhere alone. Elizabeth, you go with Telsia. Mark, with me. Be careful,” Renolds added. “This is going to get worse.”

* * * *

“How much longer is this going to take?” Elizabeth demanded later in the security office. For the longest time she had been sitting in a chair staring at her hands. Telsia was not exactly a charming conversationalist.

Telsia ignored her.

Elizabeth lowered her head. “It's been hours.”

“It's been twenty minutes.” Telsia corrected, and glanced at Elizabeth. “You have battle fatigue. Get used to it. And more importantly, don't bother me.”

Elizabeth closed her eyes and took a few deep, cleansing breaths. It didn't help much. Finally she stood and left the security office. Telsia didn't seem to care and did nothing to stop her.

It was quiet in the dark hallway. To her surprise, Elizabeth discovered someone lying on the ground she hadn't noticed before. A security officer. Elizabeth took a glance at his uniform, which displayed the name Roger. The man had an ugly welt across the side of his head.

Elizabeth glanced toward the security office, and then turned back. If people were really going insane, she might be able to help. With a slight hesitation, she touched the side of Roger's face.

On the surface Elizabeth was assaulted with random, horrible images that made no sense. Elizabeth realized that Roger was seeing this with a much greater intensity. It was a small wonder he was able to keep his sanity. She could sense that she was definitely not helping. The moment she touched him, the tendrils of insanity took a stronger hold on his mind. Even in his unconscious state Roger winced and cried out.

Elizabeth immediately withdrew. “Sorry. I'm sorry!”

Roger didn't reply. He just continued sleeping.

Elizabeth felt a light touch on her shoulder and turned around. Telsia was pointing a gun between Elizabeth's eyes.

“What are you doing?” the security chief demanded.

Nearly scared out of her wits, Elizabeth resisted a mad urge to run. “Nothing! I w-was just trying to help, but I think I made things worse.”

Telsia glared at her. She slowly lifted her gun and put it back in its holster. “Never do that around me again. Never do anything weird.”

* * * *

A short time later, Renolds reached sickbay. He tried the doors, which were sealed shut. “Dammit,” the captain whispered. He found the manual release to the sickbay wing and pulled it down. With a hiss the doors opened.

As soon as he entered, the captain was hit with an odor so repulsive that he stepped back. Immediately he understood why he heard the strange piercing noises from the intercom. The sound came from the bio-bed, an instrument generally used for precision surgery. An unrestrained corpse lay blackened beneath the surgical lasers.

Renolds stepped toward the bed, fearing the worst. “Dr. Neilson?” The captain examined the body. It was so charred that he couldn't tell whether it was male or female. He pushed a few buttons, and the lasers shut off.

“I didn't do that to him,” a voice said softly. Renolds turned and saw Neilson sitting on the carpet with his back against the wall. The doctor was staring at the table in horror. “He did that to himself as I-I-I came in.”

“Are you all right?” Renolds demanded as he crouched down.

“N-no. Not re-re-really, Captain. What I just saw—”

A sudden noise made them both jump. Mark had knocked over a surgical tray. The first officer raised his eyebrow by way of apology.

Renolds turned back to Neilson. “Doc...” he began, and fell silent. What could he possibly say? How could he possibly lead anyone in a situation like this? “Get over it.”

Neilson stared at him in shock.

“You're the doctor, and you've seen bodies before. You have to deal. I'm the captain, and I have to deal with the fact that my crew has turned homicidal and suicidal ... and will very likely take the whole ship with them if we don't move fast. Now that man over there...” He pointed at the corpse. “He may hold the key to the cure. I suggest you find it, before I put you on the bio-bed.” Renolds fell silent, his face not revealing any regret he was feeling.

Neilson swallowed, and stood. With trembling hands he picked up the scanner from the metal tray.

[Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter 14

Elizabeth heard the doors behind her close with a solid thud.

“All right,” Telsia said, and pushed a final button. “All the crew is on lock-down. No one can go anywhere except those with cleared bio-signatures. Us, in other words. And the captain. And—” Her lips tightened into a sneer. “Mark.”

In the distance Elizabeth could hear someone screaming. “Now what?”

“You can always go back to the brig. That is still operational. Maybe it would be the best place for you now. I'll get some additional supplies and meet up with the captain.”

“What? No!” Elizabeth protested. “I'm going with you.”

“That's not a great idea.”

“I'm going with you,” Elizabeth repeated firmly.

There was a long moment of silence. Then Telsia gave an unnerving smirk. “Your funeral,” she said.

Elizabeth glared at her. She spotted a group of pipes set in the corner, raised her hand and all the pipes levitated from the ground. Elizabeth felt no mental fatigue at all. Instead her mind felt as if it were being pulled a certain direction. Tossing caution aside, she followed it.

Blue light exploded under the pipes, and the entire room lit up with blue and red lines. Elizabeth immediately balked and shut her mind off. The pipes fell to the ground with a clatter and rolled away.

Elizabeth raised her hands, startled by how little energy that took. She looked up and met Telsia's frowning gray eyes.

* * * *

Renolds paced the medical floor impatiently as Neilson began his research. Every now and then he glanced at the charred corpse. How many lives had he lost so far?

Neilson finally moved away from the microscope. “It's not b-blood. T-there is no c-che-chemical agent i-in the corpse's blood. He checks out!”

“How is that possible?” Renolds demanded, resisting a sudden urge to slam his hands against the table.

“Physically and ment-tally, there is just nothing wrong with him,” Neilson concluded. “According to the scanner, he's in perfect health. Well, the best of health he could be in when...” He let that comment go unfinished. “This is just like trying to detect the Soulites, Captain. It's impossib-ble.”

“All right,” Renolds said. “Let's figure out how this was transferred. Carl was attacked by Ordias, and he was infected. Is it through touch? Pores?”

“No, it would have shown up in the c-c-chemical t-test. There was nothing.”

“Air?” Mark guessed.

“N-Nothing in the scans e-either.”

“Food?” Renolds asked.

“I haven't eaten in the past sixteen hours,” Mark said.

“Is there any evidence of the virus in the tests?” Renolds asked.

“N-no. Nothing. I've done scans on all of us. We all check out. Even the ones that are infected seem perfectly healthy.”

Renolds felt like tearing his hair out. “Can we all agree that this started right after the attack by the alien ship?”

“And that it's spreading very fast,” Mark added.

“In fact, it could be in all of us,” Neilson said. “Right now.”

“Something has to be a conduit!” Renolds said. His eyes widened. “Or ... someone.”

* * * *

So far, Elizabeth and Telsia had searched most of the deck and found little in the way of medical supplies. They also met a few infected personnel, whom Telsia had shot without a second thought.

The security chief suddenly frowned as she walked down a hall that was silent except for a small buzzing. Elizabeth spotted a sign and wiped the dust away. Deck G Section 28.

Telsia turned away, her face cold. Elizabeth hesitantly reached out with her mind and could feel guilt and anger radiating off of the security chief. It was the first time she had ever felt any kind of emotion from Telsia. The telepath stopped. What was it Myers had said before?

If I were you, sister, I wouldn't ask for answers. I would demand them. Rip them out of their minds like I've already done.

It was a simple thing to do, really, but so horrible. She had tried conventional ways; however, she'd been shut out at every turn. This was the only way to get some real answers. With no real effort, she broke into Telsia's mind.

Within seconds, it felt like she had stepped back in time. From the flashes in Telsia's memory, Elizabeth could tell things used to be so much different. The ship was newer. Uniforms had changed. And there was less animosity between the crew. But at the same time, there was a taste of despair. Elizabeth looked around and saw eight people standing in a row. One of them was holding a child.

“You don't understand,” a male voice implored. “Just because we're telepaths doesn't mean anything. We didn't cause this attack. We're not responsible.”

The voice that replied was as cold as ice. “Space them.”

The eight bodies suddenly flew violently to the left and out of the enclosed airlock. Elizabeth felt her blood freeze. She knew that voice.

“What are you doing?”

Elizabeth gasped, and at once left Telsia's mind. She stared at the security chief in shock. Telsia didn't have to say anything. That one, brief glance said it all.

Elizabeth took a deep, shuddering breath. For so many years, everyone hated telepaths. NAVA hated them. Even the Resistance, NAVA's worst enemy, hated telepaths. But to murder them in cold blood ... Elizabeth wouldn't let this stand. Enough was enough. Her eyes hardened. Myers was right. It was time to take control.

Telsia met her eyes and stepped forward.

Elizabeth raised her hand. She didn't know how she was doing this, and would have never believed herself capable. A bright sparkle of blue came from the center of her palm, and the next moment a shimmering blue light stretched out around her, forming a shield. This had to be impossible, or a dream. She was a low-level telepath, good for scanning minds only. Yet here she was, approaching the highest levels of her people and feeling like she had not even scratched the surface of what she could do. If they were still on Earth, NAVA would have locked her up.

Telsia's eyes were as cold as ever. “Listen—”

“Stay away from me,” Elizabeth ordered as she stepped back. Whenever she moved, the field moved with her. Her entire body tingled with power. When she was safely past Telsia, Elizabeth broke into a run.

The shield dropped as Elizabeth focused everything on getting away from Telsia. She had to get to the captain. He was the only man who would listen to her, who would understand that the truth about the Vigilant's past had to be discovered now.

She didn't see the wrench swinging toward her head until it was too late.

* * * *

“This is not hitting us on a physical level,” Renolds said. “It's psychological. The only people who are capable of doing that are the telepaths.”

Mark clearly didn't understand. “Possibly, but why would they do something like that?”

“I don't think it's deliberate,” Renolds said. “Maybe it's accidental.”

“Captain, five telepaths alone just c-can't be doing this to the entire ship,” Neilson said. His eyes widened. “Unless...”

All three of them hit upon the same answer. “What if—” Neilson began.

“Their powers were being amplified by whatever is sticking onto our hull?” Renolds said.

“The time frame would be right,” Mark said. “Carl said that the slime isn't causing any damage.”

“Oh, it's causing damage all right,” Renolds said. “Come on, Mark, let's go.”

“Captain, you have to stop this quickly,” Neilson said. “I've lost most of my medical staff. I can't keep up with the casualties.”

* * * *

They made it five decks without running into any trouble. Every now and then they heard pounding coming from a locked room. Or a scream. Renolds bleakly wondered if other captains ever had to face this. “Just think. It's only a matter of time before we're infected too.”

Mark made no comment.

Renolds regarded the first officer. “So, what have you got against NAVA anyway?”

Mark glanced at him. “Are you kidding me?”

“No, I'm actually genuinely curious as to what the war was all about. And seeing how we just happen to be here...” Renolds finished off with a shrug. He could hear the sound of broken glass from the quarters to their right.

“Where to begin?” Mark asked. “Well, for starters, they killed millions of people. You know, people not like us. People who were handicapped, disabled.”

“There was a disease,” Renolds said. “Only people with a particular genetic coding could survive it.”

Mark shook his head in annoyance. “Did it ever occur to you that most of those people were in one particular group? It was NAVA. There had been so much death, so much convenient disease. But that's only what was happening on the surface. Not underneath.”

“And just what is NAVA hiding?” Renolds asked. “You know, I'm getting a little tired of you pretending to know something I don't.”

“Who says I'm pretending?”

Renolds didn't have a good answer to that.

Mark didn't seem to notice. His eyes were distant. “Everyone in NAVA must have been so happy when the Resistance lost. They stopped the bad guys. What if it was the other way around? What if we were the good guys? What happens then? What happens now?”

“I refuse to believe that,” Renolds stated. “You're a terrorist.”

“Are you absolutely sure? You wear a barcode, Renolds, not a name. Not a definition of who you are.”

“I don't believe anything you've just said. Mark, NAVA isn't some nameless evil company. Even someone like you has to know that.”

“Someone like me? It might surprise you to know that, for a long time, I thought like you did.” Mark rolled up his sleeve, revealing a similar bar code. “I wasn't born into the Resistance as many think. I believed in NAVA too, more than anyone. But one day, I stopped.”

Renolds still didn't believe him. “So why exactly didn't you win the war? If you were right, why didn't you win?”

“Because wars don't work that way.”

Suddenly the floor started to shake underneath them like an earthquake.

[Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter 15

Elizabeth didn't know where her attacker had come from. All she felt was a crunch on her side, followed by a snap and a bright flash of pain. Reacting on an instinctual level, she screamed, and her mind screamed with her. Before her astonished eyes, the walls, ceiling and floor fused together, separating her from a maintenance worker holding a broken crowbar. The ship trembled from the exertion.

Elizabeth blinked twice, not quite sure how she'd done that. The telepath wasn't tired at all. It felt like she could do anything. The thought left her shaking with fear and exhilaration at the same time. Ignoring the pain from her cracked ribs, she touched the fused walls with curiosity. She completely missed a lieutenant standing behind her, gun drawn. Elizabeth whirled around with a start, only to see his head explode in red. Telsia stood behind him. The body fell to the ground with a thud.

The security chief eyed the fused walls with only mild curiosity. “Guess I won't be going that way.” Her gray eyes shifted to Elizabeth. “I think this area of space has increased your powers just a tad. That makes you a dangerous liability.”

Before Elizabeth could reply, a crackling sound and a new voice surprised them both. “Telsia, is everything all right down there?”

Telsia turned on the radio. “Perfectly, Captain. I'll rendezvous at your position in a few minutes,” she said, and flicked off the radio.

“Captain,” Elizabeth said. Her voice became a whimper. “Captain.”

Telsia sighed. “The question is what are we going to do with this mess?”

“You killed them,” Elizabeth whispered. “The telepaths that were on the Vigilant fourteen years ago. I know the truth.”

The security chief didn't say a word.

“You killed them!” Elizabeth repeated. Her eyes burned with anger. “You killed them.”

Telsia glanced at her in astonishment, as though stunned by her anger. “It was necessary.”

“You better shoot me too,” Elizabeth snapped, tears running down her cheeks. “I guarantee you, that's going to be necessary in a moment!”

“Listen—”

“Because when I get out of here I'm going to tell everyone what you did! You murdered them without reason.”

“There was a reason,” Telsia interrupted calmly. “Eighteen hours ago, this ship was hit by a Soulite weapon. Even though it caused no damage, there's a chemical now on the hull. This chemical, on its own, is nothing. But when there are transmitters on board, like telepaths, everyone on the crew starts to butcher each other.”

“You're lying.”

Telsia's tone was flat. “I did lie to you earlier. The Vigilant has been in Soulite territory before. Fourteen years ago. I was there, and I saw this happen before. That was how the original crew, except for me, was massacred. And now, despite everything I could do to prevent it, the massacre is happening again. It is entirely your fault, and the fault of your kind, that this is happening.”

Elizabeth could do nothing but stare at her.

“I've seen the bodies and the evidence. Believe me, you're killing a whole lot more people than I ever did.”

Elizabeth continued staring at her. Her chest rose and fell more rapidly as she began to hyperventilate.

Telsia smirked. “Still feel like ratting to the captain?”

* * * *

Renolds wiped his forehead. Was it just his imagination or did the corridor feel very warm? “Just a little further. We're almost to the bridge.”

“Yeah, but what if it's cut off? We're basically screwed, right?” Mark asked.

The captain kept his voice calm. “There's a hidden level on this ship, and within it an auxiliary bridge. We'll head there if nothing else.”

Mark stared at him. “You're kidding, right?”

“Nope. The most shielded area on the entire ship. Only the captain knows about it. It was designed in case of mutiny, or to save the captain's life in an extreme emergency.”

“Tell me again that NAVA isn't evil,” Mark said sarcastically.

Renolds keyed in a few commands. “In this case, it might save our lives. The entire bridge is flooded with radiation. You up for more of a walk?”

“To see a hidden bridge? You're damn right I am.” Mark gestured with new energy. “Lead on.”

* * * *

Elizabeth could only watch in terrified fascination as Telsia took out her handgun. It was so close that the telepath could make out the light-blue logo of NAVA embedded in the black metal of the nozzle. She could see the steady flashes of blue light within the tunnel.

“You've been a thorn in my side from the very beginning,” Telsia said. “You and the rest of your kind. If you pose a security threat, it has to be eliminated, just like before. More than that, you've tried to pry into my personal life, and that I can't forgive.”

Telsia pulled back the safety. Elizabeth gulped. All thoughts of escape or defense were long forgotten. “But you clearly don't know me at all.”

Telsia put the gun away back into her holster. Elizabeth swallowed, unsure of what to say.

The security chief stared at her in sorrow. “I won't kill you, because the damage has already been done. But even if killing you would be the way to change all this, I would still find another way. What happened before was a terrible mistake. It did not prevent those deaths and should never have been considered. The choice was mine and mine alone. I have spent every day of my life since regretting what happened.”

“If you're as innocent as you claim, then let me go,” Elizabeth said, starring at Telsia. A tear ran unchecked down her cheek, but not because of the pain. Pain was miles away. In her mind she could still see those deaths, those telepaths lining up to be executed one at a time.

“Not quite yet,” Telsia said. “I've never liked you, Elizabeth. That's fairly obvious. If I had my way, I would leave you here to die. That's how much I hate you. Which is why I'm going to make you a promise. I will never hurt you, and I will do anything I can to protect you. It's my job.”

Before Elizabeth could think of a reply, pain finally registered. The telepath doubled over with a small moan.

“Are you all right?” Telsia asked.

“I feel ... so dizzy,” Elizabeth whispered. Then it hit her. All the deaths she had been feeling, all the souls passing from the Vigilant, were because of her. How many had she felt so far? At least a hundred.

Elizabeth collapsed to the floor, bursting into tears. They fell from her eyes to mix with her blood-soaked hands.

* * * *

Renolds stopped suddenly, and so did Mark. The first officer frowned. “It's—”

“Too quiet, I know,” Renolds said. “Soldier's instinct.”

Mark glanced at him in astonishment. “I thought you weren't in the war.”

“Well, you thought wrong.”

A sudden scream made him turn. It came from the passageway they had just left.

“I'll check it out,” Mark offered. A second later he was gone.

Renolds walked further down the passageway. His heart started to beat faster in his chest. He didn't have to go far before he saw her. An ensign was curled in a ball with her hands on her head. “Captain? Captain ... help me!”

Renolds stepped closer and put away his weapon. He reached for a medical scanner and with his other hand touched her shoulder. “Are you—”

She bit down on his arm. Hard. All the way down to the bone. Renolds screamed. He swung wide with his other arm and connected with her head. She detached and hit the wall.

In his shock Renolds screamed, “You bit me!”

The ensign stood, licking her lips. Before he could move, she lunged at him. Both of them fell to the carpet. With a talon-like grip she held onto his blue shirt. Renolds glanced to the left and grabbed the pistol that had fallen out of his holster. As she lunged toward his face, teeth bared, he positioned the gun under her chin and pulled the trigger.

The sound was deafening. The ensign's head jerked upward and her body fell on top of his. He rolled her off him and as her hand slid from the knife handle, Renolds first became painfully aware of what might be a real problem.

Grimacing, the captain grabbed the handle of the knife and yanked it out of his leg. Thankfully it was only buried half-deep, but it still hurt like hell. He released a slow hiss of pain. More than anything, Renolds just wanted to stay there, but his crew needed him. Now in a very foul mood, he struggled to his feet and limped back to the hallway.

Mark was waiting for him. “Took you long enough,” he said. “You're limping.”

“I noticed, thanks. Did you have any trouble?”

“Nothing I couldn't handle,” Mark said.

The captain noticed that there was blood on the back of his hand. “I, ah, killed a member of my own crew.”

“I'm sorry to hear that,” Mark said.

Renolds leaned against the wall. “It's tough.”

“You get used to it.”

“Oh right. I had forgotten that you're a mass murderer and not just my first officer.”

“Don't worry. I won't let you forget again.” Mark raised his eyebrow. “Shall we go?”

“No need. We're there already.”

Mark turned around in confusion. They were facing a blank wall. “Where?”

In response, Renolds raised his hand. Immediately a green light shot from the wall to scan his palm. With a beep, a control panel appeared beneath the scanner. Renolds keyed in a four-digit code and part of the wall slid away.

“That's handy. I must have walked past this place a thousand times,” Mark said, oblivious to the shadow approaching over his head with an axe.

Renolds saw him. “Marcus, get down!”

* * * *

Mark didn't question, but neither did he exactly obey. He dropped into a half-spin, one hand reaching for his gun. Trouble was, no matter how fast he moved, the man was only a split second away from breaking his skull in two. Nothing could stop him.

In the time it took Mark to realize that he was going to die, the man was already jerking backward. At first Mark couldn't understand it. Then he heard the explosions and saw the flashes of blue light that could have only come from Renolds's gun.

Mark felt something burning hit his back and he was propelled forward. As he smacked into the floor, only one thought screamed through his mind. Oh my god, Renolds shot me! He touched the smoking hole in his back. Yep, he had definitely been shot, but his protective vest had covered that. The captain's aim was really terrible.

Mark got to his feet with Renolds's help. “Thanks. I suppose.”

The captain's mouth quirked upwards. “You suppose?”

Mark touched his back again. “Depends if you were trying to kill me or not, Osirus.”

Renolds chuckled.

The lights on the tiny bridge switched on automatically as soon as they entered. Mark circled around, unable to help but be impressed. “This can control all the main functions of the ship?”

“Ya-huh,” Renolds replied.

“It's so small, like a mini-bridge.” Mark located the science station and activated the sensors.

“How bad is it?” Renolds asked.

“Well, basically we're spinning out of control. A few crew members have escaped lock-down and turned some levels of the ship into extreme levels of hot or cold, effectively killing everyone. We were just on that level a few minutes ago—”

Renolds sat down and glanced at Mark. “All right. This has to end now.”

Mark stared at the binary readout of the external sensors with no success. Thousands of ones and zeros. No way could he translate it without a symbiot. “Unfortunately, external sensors are still on backup. I can't tell you where the damage is, what it is or how to get it off the hull. What's your plan now?”

Renolds was silent for a moment. “We have to take out the telepaths.”

* * * *

The plan was simple. Render everyone on the ship unconscious except for those on the mini-bridge, then work on getting the alien residue off the hull. It was, in Renolds's mind, faultless.

“We might have a problem,” Mark announced. “Elizabeth and Telsia have checked in, but the rest of the telepaths have locked themselves in their quarters. They say they won't come out, and I can't override the doors. That would seal them off from the gas.”

“We're going to have to think of something else.” Renolds sat in the navigational seat, rubbing his temples.

“Are you all right?” Mark asked.

Renolds felt like his head was about to explode, but he reluctantly nodded. “Yeah.”

The first officer focused again on the controls. “I was thinking of an EMP along the ship. I can key it so that it won't affect the bridge. This bridge, I mean.”

Renolds nodded in agreement. “After that, everyone should return to normal. Everyone left alive, that is.” He said nothing for a moment. “I think this—”

Before he could finish Mark rammed into him. Renolds rebounded against the control panel, which exploded in a shower of sparks. Mark's hands were around his throat, squeezing mercilessly. His dark blue eyes were crazed.

With a grunt Renolds tried to shove him away. He elbowed Mark in the gut, and punched him in the jaw. Mark cried out in pain and stepped back. A second later, he regained his balance and kicked Renolds in the side. The first officer followed with a murderous blow to the captain's head.

Renolds's forehead connected with the control panel. Mark then grabbed him by the shoulders and smashed him against the panel again. Mark grabbed both his and Renolds's knives from their belts and crossed them over Renolds's throat. Renolds desperately pressed against Mark's arms, preventing his throat from being slit only by bare millimeters.

Renolds gritted his teeth. “Mark, it's me! You're infected!”

Something gave in and Renolds was able to push him back and turn in a desperate roll. Instantly one of the knives slammed into the console with an audible bang and sizzle. The lights flickered and went out on the bridge.

Renolds backed away. It was so dark he couldn't even see his own hand in front of him. He strained to listen for any movement. Nothing. Breathing hard, Renolds felt for the railing behind him and ducked under it. With his eye enhancements, there was every reason to suspect that Mark could see in the dark. The captain could hear the sound of a pin bouncing against the floor. Something rolled toward him. Renolds's eyes widened. It was a grenade.

He scrambled and dove to the left as the console exploded in a blaze of fire. With internal fire suppressants on, the fire was out in seconds, but not before Renolds had seen Mark's position, the opposite direction he had originally thought. Mark must have thrown the grenade, and it had bounced against a wall.

Renolds had a feeling he was being toyed with. Quickly he fumbled his way to the science station. He had to restore power to the lights.

Steady footsteps came toward him. Renolds's heart lurched in fear. With a blur of motion he restored power just in time to see Mark's fist fly in his direction. He ducked to the right and stepped back. He wasn't going to let Mark get the advantage again. Like all NAVA officers, Renolds had basic combat training. He had to use it. He knew what Mark was capable of. He had to get him on the defensive, or he wouldn't stand a chance. With that in mind, he dove straight at Mark.

Mark clearly didn't expect it. The back of his shoulder connected with the railing as they both were hurled to the floor. Mark rolled off him, grabbed the gun from his belt and pointed it at Renolds.

Renolds didn't give himself time to think—he just reacted. He kicked the gun away and jumped to his feet. The captain lunged at him. Mark blocked with the flat of his bad wrist, wincing from the motion. He kicked Renolds in the chest.

Fear gripped Renolds as he backed away a few steps. Did he really have a chance? Mark aimed a blow at his ribs. Renolds caught Mark's wrist with his hand and twisted. Mark tried to punch him with his bad hand. Renolds ducked it and moved back a few paces. He was already breathing hard. Renolds wasn't sure if Mark was even winded. Maybe that was what Mark was trying to do. Tire him out while conserving his own energy.

Then something in Renolds snapped as his personal demons came out. He saw the man responsible for the murder of his sister and countless others. His self-control broke and he threw himself at Mark. Mark's eyes widened in surprise as the momentum threw them both over the railing and onto the floor below. Renolds was able to get his bearings first and punched Mark in the face. Renolds stepped back and reached for his gun.

He didn't have it.

Renolds glanced up in horror. His gun was in Mark's hand. The first officer's body was trembling, but Renolds suspected his aim was as perfect as ever.

“We both knew that it would end this way,” Mark said. He removed the safety.

All of a sudden, Mark's head hit the deck. Telsia stood over him.

“Not today,” Telsia said.

[Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter 16

Renolds stared at his security chief with astonishment. “How do you know about this place?”

Telsia barely gave him a glance. “Nothing escapes my attention, Captain. The faster you learn that, the easier we can work together.”

“Thanks.”

“Not a problem,” Telsia replied with a hint of satisfaction in her voice.

Renolds noticed Elizabeth standing behind her, hesitating. She was about to say something, when her eyes darted toward Telsia.

“Captain, I had no idea. I'm so sorry,” Elizabeth finally said.

Renolds gave her a reassuring smile. “I know it's not your fault. But don't worry, we have a plan. I'm going to knock out the whole crew with an electric pulse, including the telepaths.”

“And then what?” Elizabeth asked, nervously.

“It'll only take a short time to remove the alien organism off the hull. That's the only reason why this is happening to us. After that, I'll wake everyone up.” The captain paused. “I'm excluding this bridge from the pulse.”

Elizabeth understood. “I'll go below decks.”

“I'll help her into stasis,” Telsia offered. Both of them turned to go.

“One last thing,” Renolds said.

Telsia and Elizabeth stopped and turned back.

Renolds was silent for at least a minute. He pondered over the ramifications of what was going to happen. If the crew knew the telepaths were responsible for all the deaths today, the telepaths would die. It was that simple. For all of NAVA's advancements over the centuries, prejudice was more alive than ever.

“Captain?” Telsia asked, bringing him back to the present.

“The cause of how this virus was spread stays with us on the bridge. No one else needs to know,” he ordered. “Understand?”

“Completely,” Telsia said.

Elizabeth gave Telsia a grateful look. Telsia's face, however, was empty of expression.

Between them, they both carried Mark off the bridge.

* * * *

Elizabeth shook her head as they dropped Mark next to a fallen beam. “This is all my fault. I'm killing him, and everyone else. How many people do you think...?”

Telsia, not one for sympathy, didn't respond.

Elizabeth stood and stared at the dark waters of the stasis pods. Going into stasis wasn't anything like the movies described. It wasn't clean, and it wasn't painless. The partially open stasis chamber resembled a glass coffin. She touched the liquid with her fingertips. It was ice-cold to the touch.

“We don't have a lot of time,” Telsia said.

“I'm scared,” Elizabeth admitted. “I'm scared of not waking up. I'm claustrophobic. That's the only thing I hate about a starship. What if the captain doesn't wake me up? What if he decides we're too much trouble?”

Telsia said nothing and activated the controls. Elizabeth jumped back as the clear door slid open and plopped to the ground with a hiss. The telepath took slow breaths. Gathering her courage, she got in. It didn't feel like water, more like freezing jelly that molded itself to her legs. She clenched her fists and sat into it. The cold ran up through her body, stealing her warmth until she had none left. The dark purple gel was soon up to her chest.

Telsia keyed in the controls. “Even if no one returns to revive you, the stasis chamber has an automatic cycle. It will wake you in three days.”

“O-okay,” Elizabeth said, her teeth chattering.

Telsia stepped away from the control panel. “You have to be completely submerged.”

“You mean holding my breath.”

“Only for about forty-eight seconds,” Telsia said. “Whatever you do, don't press against the glass in any way. Your skin could freeze-dry.” Without any further warning, she pressed a button and the stasis door retracted.

Elizabeth had just enough time to take a quick breath and duck her head into the liquid. It was transparent enough that she could see what Telsia was doing. The Security Chief was pressing a few more buttons, and didn't even glance at Elizabeth.

Her heart pounded inside her chest. The telepath could see blue lines blurring her vision and felt slight warmth around her head. Twenty-five seconds. She was starting to become aware that breathing was a priority.

Elizabeth bit her lower lip. This time, Telsia did glance down at her once. Thirty seconds. Elizabeth couldn't do it. She hadn't taken a good enough breath beforehand. Her lungs were screaming for air. Elizabeth had never felt more terrified in her life.

To make matters worse, Telsia straightened and walked past her field of vision. Elizabeth saw the lights dim. Telsia was gone. She had left without even making sure the stasis cycle started successfully.

Elizabeth squeezed her eyes shut, resisting the overwhelming temptation to smash her fists against the glass. Deep down she knew she was going to die. The captain was going to forget about her, or kill her as soon as she woke up.

Thirty-one seconds, and with that came her breaking point. Elizabeth screamed, exhaling the rest of her remaining breath. And still the nightmare went on. Elizabeth inhaled liquid jelly. It tasted so vile that she gagged. Every inch of her was fighting now as she kicked at the stasis glass and smeared her hands against it.

She was going to die!

She was going to...

* * * *

“Warning. Life-support system critical,” the ship's computer announced.

There was no one to respond. Hundreds of people were unconscious on all decks. Only one crew member remained awake, if only just barely.

Renolds lifted his head from the control panel. “Computer, is the ETC recycling system working?”

A toneless male voice answered, “Scanning ... ETC systems working at thirty-five percent efficiency.”

Renolds released a shaky breath. Most of the last two days had been spent repairing the computer and the core cleaning system. Radiation would be pumped out of the ship's ventilation and it would hopefully destroy the alien organisms. It might work. It had to work. “Computer ... begin...”

The captain closed his eyes. “Computer...”

He breathed out. “Com...”

Renolds's head pitched forward and connected to the computer console. Seconds later the captain was fast asleep.

“Renolds.”

He opened his eyes with a gasp and found himself lying on a bio-bed. There were dozens of NAVA personnel on similar bio-beds, including Mark, Carl, and Elizabeth. Renolds cleared his very dry throat. “Doctor?”

Neilson, leaning over another patient intently, jumped when the captain called. He put down his scanner. “Are you all right?”

“I'm fine. How are they? How is everyone?” Renolds demanded. “Did my plan work?”

Neilson nodded in confirmation. “They'll pull through, but we've lost more than a hundred people, Captain.”

For a moment Renolds could only stare at him in disbelief. He struggled to his feet. “Oh no...”

Neilson's face was cold. Renolds ran his hands through his gray hair.

“It's not your fault, Captain,” Neilson said. “No one should have put you in this situation. You've been an accountant since the end of the war. No command experience...”

“Have you been reading my personnel file?” Renolds asked bitterly.

Neilson shrugged. “And let's review your crew. You've got a first officer who's a mass murderer. You've got telepaths with rapidly growing powers, and you have a security chief you can't trust because she holds more secrets than anyone.” The doctor chuckled. “On second thought, you probably shouldn't trust anyone on this ship. And NAVA puts you in charge of them. I wonder, is there anything special about you, sir? Or did NAVA send you to invade Soulite territory because you're just some nameless loser no one's going to miss?”

“What?” Renolds turned his head and noticed how disorienting sickbay was. The room tilted in his vision, and people were moving very slowly. “This is a dream,” he whispered.

“A dream? Or a message? You can't stop the Soulites, sir. They own this galaxy, and you still have no idea what they are. Just think, it took only one of their ships to do all this. So take some advice. Surrender while you still can. Because the path you're on will only result in more death. For you and for your crew. You know nothing about us. We know everything about you. You can't even see us, unless we want you to.”

“I don't want a war. I just want to return home. Our presence here is an accident,” Renolds said.

“Are you sure, Captain?” Neilson asked. “I'm guessing you don't even know the workings of your own people too well.”

Renolds didn't have an answer for that.

“As for home, that it something you will never see again. You're in way over your head. The more you understand, the more you will wish you didn't.” Neilson sneered at him. “You're a broken man on a broken ship. There's only one chance for your crew.”

“And what would that be?” Renolds demanded.

“Destroy the ship with everyone on board. Give yourselves a quick death. Because to face the Soulites is a fate worse than anything you can ever imagine.”

“Ugh!” Renolds cried out as he jerked his head up from the console. He was back on the auxiliary bridge. It had only been a dream.

The captain returned his focus to the control panel. “Computer, begin core cleaning cycle.” A beep confirmed his order. Renolds took in a deep, trembling breath. He only hoped it would be enough.

It had to be.

* * * *

Elizabeth watched helplessly as she plunged into a green core of light. Her skin was white as a sheet. Her brown eyes flicked open in the water.

Soulites...

Elizabeth squeezed her eyes shut. The next second she tumbled outward and hit something hard and squishy at the same time. The carpet. She opened her eyes and looked up. She had fallen from the stasis pod. The room was empty but still dark. The telepath was covered in purple slime from head to toe.

How long had it been? There was no one else in the stasis room. She remembered the pods would open automatically after three days, which answered one question, but not another. Had the captain's plan worked?

As her eyes adjusted, she realized she was wrong. There was one occupant still with her. Mark's slumbering form rested against a broken beam.

Elizabeth knelt beside him, trying without luck to wipe stasis slime off her body. Cautiously, she reached over and took the universal scanner from his belt. She then spotted the gun. For a moment she did nothing. Then, she reached over and took the gun.

Mark didn't react at all. He could have been dead.

Why didn't Telsia disarm him? Did she purposefully leave him the gun for when she woke up? No, better not to think that way. It was just an oversight. Elizabeth released a held breath. She had never used a weapon in her life and didn't want to start. The telepath put it aside on the floor.

She held up the scanner and pressed a button. It clicked to life, expanding a panel from the top which made her jump. She stared at the blue screen. It had a variety of uses: information on technology, rules and regulations, historical records, and also medical conditions. She scanned Mark slowly. He was severely dehydrated, but she couldn't detect anything else. Which didn't prove anything.

She observed his sleeping form, and an idea sprung into her mind. She had to be sure. Before, she couldn't enter his mind because he had willfully shut her out. Unconscious, it would be a different story. Elizabeth hesitated, and then touched the side of his cold face with her fingertips. She closed her eyes.

At first she could see nothing except a blue-green murky haze. Elizabeth realized there had to be artificial safeguards in place to block mental intrusions. That could have only come from NAVA and was supposed to block even the highest telepath. With her enhanced abilities she broke through them in two seconds. There was a loud explosion, like the rumble of thunder in a sky. Dozens of images assaulted her at once.

Rain splattered over his head. A sniper's light was shining just over his heart. Around him all of his friends were dead. The NAVA soldiers were poised around the hill, waiting to see what he would do next. Marcus stared at the gun in his hand. He realized that there was only one thing left to do. He couldn't be taken alive.

Marcus put the gun to his head. But no matter how much he wanted to, he just couldn't pull the trigger. He accepted his fate, yet for some reason he couldn't communicate this to his brain and his hand froze in place. He glanced up and saw the cloaked figures approaching.

In the end, it really didn't matter. There was a flash of blue light, and his chest exploded in fire. Looking down, Marcus saw a small trail of blood running from his fingertips. Marcus knew a great deal about gunshot wounds and this one had gone clear through his lung. It was getting hard to breathe. Air whistled through his throat as though he was slowly being strangled to death. He fell, face-first into the ground. The key fell from his clenched hand and swirled away down a trail of mud. It was lost forever.

But he wished he still had it. He still wished NAVA was dead.

It was his last coherent thought for a while.

Ten years later he arrived back at the same hilltop. NAVA had transformed it into a memorial. It was morning, and there was a fresh chill in the air. Surprisingly, they had elected to give each member of the Resistance a single grave rather than throw them all into one. They even had gravestones. Marcus continued walking among them, finally stopping at one that read Nathan Wells.

Marcus folded his arms. “Well, what can I say? If you knew the kind of person I was now, you would be ashamed. All I can promise is that NAVA will pay for what they did to both of us.” He suddenly noticed someone standing to the right and turned around.

Elizabeth's eyes lifted. While this was proving to be very interesting, she was drawn further back to something else that happened the day of the battle. The most important day of Mark's life.

And unknowingly, hers.

Marcus's teeth grit together as he forced himself to look up. He could just make out a line of cloaked people. With a burst of strength defying any mental bonds, he stood from the muddy ground and took out his gun. He fired once.

Elizabeth gasped as the man next to her fell from the line. She bent down and removed the hood."Rick? Rick!"

Her brother didn't answer her, his blue eyes very still. Elizabeth glanced back in hatred at the man who had just murdered her only family.

In another time on the Vigilant, two figures sat, one oblivious to the telepathic link between them. Their faces were free of emotion, but their eyes told a different story. A tear fell from Elizabeth's, and Mark's eyes darted back and forth.

Elizabeth's eyes narrowed. She could tell that his hatred of telepaths ran very deep, and if he knew she was doing this, he would never forgive her. But there was more to it than that, something she couldn't scan without encountering more of NAVA's mental locks. It was getting progressively harder to try, because he was starting to wake up...

High above them one of the emergency lights broke, shattering their connection. Mark's blue eyes opened. He automatically grabbed the gun from the ground and pointed it right at Elizabeth, who drew back. If Mark had the slightest suspicion that she had entered his mind, she was doomed.

Mark glanced to the left and right, not even appearing to notice her. “We're still alive.”

Elizabeth relaxed. “I think it's over.”

Mark noticed the odd tone in her voice and touched her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

Elizabeth turned her head, tears gathering in her eyes. “No,” she whispered.

[Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter 17

Two days later, the entire atmosphere of the ship had changed. It was no longer dark and isolated. The halls were filled with crew members making repairs to the ship. Renolds knew that repairs would take months, especially since they didn't have all the required supplies anymore. He passed by Carl near the science lab. The chief engineer gave him a smile, but it was filled with sadness.

“Casualty reports are coming in,” Mark said, joining him. “It's not good. We've lost a hundred and seventeen people. About a third of our crew. All of the science and maintenance department, and about half of the engineers and medics.”

“What?” Renolds snapped, turning around. “Mark, tell me you're kidding.”

Mark held out the paper. As Renolds read, Mark added, “Once the crew members became insane ... they tried to kill themselves and others pretty quickly. We couldn't save them all.”

Still reading the paper, Renolds did not reply. This was more terrible than he had imagined.

* * * *

Elizabeth stood at the far end of the shuttle bay and observed the hastily-built memorial. In front of her was a podium where the captain would eventually make his speech. Behind her were endless rows of bodies covered with white sheets.

She felt an overwhelming cloud of death in the air, and one emotion even more powerful—grief. Around her, fifty crew members were lifting sheets, searching for lost friends and fellow officers. Just being near those people was enough to elicit tears from Elizabeth's eyes. Therefore, she stood near the only person who kept her emotions so tightly sealed that Elizabeth couldn't sense anything from her at all.

Telsia lifted a sheet off a woman and turned her head. Under her ear was a barcode. Telsia scanned it with a blue laser light.

“What are you doing?” Elizabeth asked.

“Re-verifying the count,” Telsia snapped.

Elizabeth suddenly realized what pain this must be causing her and stared at her with new-found pity. “Did you do this before ... with your original crew?”

Telsia ignored her. She gently removed a white sheet from another victim.

Elizabeth studied a nearby body. “I barely even knew any of these people.”

Telsia glanced up, and stared at three telepaths gathered near the door. She stood. “Tell your friends they might have saved some lives if they had come out of their quarters.”

“They're not...” Elizabeth began, but saw that Telsia had already moved on. Elizabeth hurried to re-join her. “I really think you should tell the captain what happened. About what happened to the original crew.”

“Tread carefully,” Telsia advised.

“I scanned you, remember? I know how much this is tearing you apart inside.”

Telsia stopped and turned around. “I don't have to tell the captain anything.” Her voice was colder than anything Elizabeth had ever heard.

Elizabeth stepped toward her. “He deserves to know the truth. He needs to know the truth. Especially since the Vigilant has been in this area of space before. Don't you think that's important?”

Telsia didn't answer her, but something in her eyes flickered.

* * * *

Renolds took a moment to button his NAVA jacket correctly. He would never be able to get the blood stains out, nor did he wish to. Keeping his face carefully free of emotion, Renolds walked down the hall toward the shuttle bay.

Neilson was the only person waiting by the closed doors.

“Are you working up the courage to go in there, Doctor?”

“No, sir. I w-wanted a chance to talk with you before the cere-ceremony, sir.”

Renolds met his eyes, trying to remind himself that the nightmare from the last two days wasn't real. “What is it?”

“Well, it's the bodies, sir. W-we can fix the s-shuttle bay. They can't stay here, a-and the morgue can't fit that m-many.” He gestured at the window displaying outer space. “The only place is out the-there.”

Renolds followed his gaze. He could suddenly picture hundreds of his crew just ... floating. “All right. I'll keep that in mind.” With a slow breath he touched the controls that would open the doors.

An endless field of white sheets awaited him, each covered crew members he barely knew and would never get back. The living waited behind the bodies. Renolds walked down the aisle and past his crew. They didn't speak, but it was clear in their eyes that they were hoping for some encouragement, some words of hope. Renolds had none to give.

His senior officers were waiting for him. He and Mark glanced at each other briefly before Renolds stepped up to the podium. Mark took one step forward, and the rest of the senior officers fell into line with him.

Renolds glanced down and unfolded two pieces of paper on the podium. “We have come here today, as in times before, to honor those that have fallen in the line of duty,” he said. It was the official speech from NAVA's archives. “They served their country. They served their comrades. They served humanity.” Renolds flipped to the next page. “I will now read out the names that were lost in duty. Norman. Aldashia. Ordias. Alhamond...”

* * * *

In the background Elizabeth listened to the eulogy. After the captain spoke each name, she would feel a stab in her heart. It was her fault this had happened. After Renolds listed off the names, the ceremony concluded abruptly. A few final words, and everyone departed.

Elizabeth headed back to her very cramped quarters. With her enhanced power, it was very easy to feel the suffering on the ship. She tried to reach out to the other telepaths, who effectively shut her out. They wanted nothing to do with her.

She was so focused on the task that she jumped when her door chimed. It took her only a split second to realize who it was, and she automatically tensed. Eventually the telepath got off the bed and opened the door.

“Hey,” Mark said. “Can I come in?”

Elizabeth struggled to conceal a sudden flash of anger. This man had murdered her brother. Murdered him! She carefully tried to keep her temper under control. “No. I don't think so.”

“Fine,” Mark said, staring at the wall with far too much interest. “Elizabeth, I don't want you to blame yourself for what happened.”

“Renolds told you,” Elizabeth said flatly.

“Yeah, he did. You couldn't have known,” Mark said.

Elizabeth's eyes narrowed. She waited for him to leave.

“I committed genocide, Elizabeth,” Mark said, finally looking at her. “It's a terrible feeling, and I wouldn't wish it on anyone else.”

“Even a telepath?” Elizabeth snapped.

“No one,” Mark repeated, and turned to leave.

Elizabeth stepped out the door. “Wait. How do you deal with it? With what you've done?”

Mark stopped, but didn't turn around. “I don't.”

* * * *

Later that night Renolds tried his best to sleep. He had spent the last two hours reading the NAVA manual, searching for some protocol in a situation like this. He found it dry reading. Finally, he put away his reading glasses and turned off the blue light next to his bed.

"You're in way over your head. The more you understand, the more you wished you didn't. You're a broken man on a broken ship. You only have one chance to save yourself."

"And what would that be?"

"Destroy the ship."

With a shuddering gasp Renolds opened his eyes. A quick glance at the clock told him that he had been asleep for only ten minutes.

An hour later he still couldn't sleep. He tried to read again, but that didn't help him. Slowly Renolds took off his glasses. His mind had a hundred thoughts running through it. His was easily the most dysfunctional crew he had ever met in his entire life. It was like every single person on his senior staff had at least one amazing story to tell. These same people were causing NAVA the most problems. Coincidence? Maybe NAVA had dumped them here to die. But he also knew they could be strong when they worked together. Stronger than anything. And it was his job to protect them.

One thing was certain, they couldn't keep running. They needed to understand more about the Soulites. The Vigilant needed to fight back.

With that thought in mind, Renolds got out of bed and grabbed his uniform.

Hannah gave him a curious glance as he entered the bridge ten minutes later. Immediately, the night relief stood, but Renolds waved him to sit back down. He walked over to the science console and found what he was looking for. The data CD which Thadius had given them. Carl must have completed the decryption at some point, but it was forgotten among other things. Renolds inserted the CD and sat forward in the chair.

Most were reports from Thadius's own logs. Supply runs, cargo manifest—fairly unremarkable things. Renolds tried to go back earlier and was rewarded with static. Someone had deleted all the logs. With an irritated sigh, the captain replayed the last log not deleted.

A second later Thadius appeared on the screen. Renolds was startled by how much cleaner Thadius looked. The once-grizzled captain was now clean shaven, in a uniform, and a lot thinner. Renolds played back the log.

“We've found a planet not sympathetic to the Soulites, but I don't like it. The people there are too strange. I've already lost most of my crew. I'm going to take the rest back to Seclusion. It's the safest place there is. I can only hope that we are the only people from Earth to ever visit this horrible galaxy.”

Coordinates were enclosed. Rubbing the stubble on his chin, Renolds studied them.

* * * *

Mark also couldn't sleep. Generally, he never slept very well and was always plagued with nightmares of the war. But this time, his dreams were different. Every time he closed his eyes, his mind would bring him back to the fateful night when the Soulites attacked Earth. Despite his feelings, Earth had been his home, too. For a few minutes Mark thought about the reasons why the Soulites would want to destroy it. In the end, did it really matter? Earth was lifetimes away from their position, assuming it survived the attack. They were never going to see it again.

Mark sighed. Everything used to be so clear. He was right, and everyone else was wrong. It seemed a really pompous thought, but in this universe it also happened to be true. Now they faced a new threat, one they knew nothing about. He wanted to let go of the past, only to find it mocking him at every turn.

Wiping the remainder of sleep from his eyes, Mark got up and dressed. He stepped out into the hall, not entirely sure where he was going, but it would be someplace where he could find a good pot of coffee, for starters. It was going to be another long day.

After a few minutes of aimless wandering, he heard music. At first Mark had assumed someone had their stereo system way beyond normal levels which, to get through the door, had to be considerable, but then he heard wild cheers and catcalls accompanying the music. A little curious, more so than he was willing to admit, Mark touched the door control. It was unlocked. The doors opened, and Mark stepped through.

The room was three times the size of a normal crew quarters. Someone had actually gone to the trouble of installing hard-wood floors. Cigarette smoke clogged the air, and the source of the music came from an old-fashioned jukebox in the corner. To the left was a bar, next to it were pool tables and to the farthest right, a stage with a woman dancing in what Mark was sure wasn't a regulation-approved outfit; just as he was sure that this wasn't a NAVA-approved establishment, which meant that it must have been created sometime after the ship left dry-dock.

In other words, every bit his type of place.

Mark searched for the perpetrator and wasn't entirely surprised to find Carl standing by the bar. He walked over to him.

“Hello, Commander,” Carl greeted pleasantly.

Mark raised his eyebrow. “I don't suppose the captain knows about this place?”

“I won't tell if you won't. I figure this ship could use some R & R. There's also a civilian crew on board this ship as well—dancers, artists, musicians. I thought it might be a good idea to start a late night bar.”

“You really did all of this in two days?” Mark asked.

“Nope. I started the very day we left Earth,” Carl said, sipping from his glass. “Everyone's fried right now. We're all sitting here, thinking we're going to die. We need something to take the edge off. Hence, alcohol. So what'll it be, Commander?”

Mark looked around, and smiled a little. “Know how to play pool?”

A few minutes later they were both drinking beer and shooting pool. A crowd had gathered around them. Mark was secretly glad. He knew that the feeling wouldn't last, but let today of all days be the one where he was no different from anyone else. He shot a ball into the hole.

“You realize, of course, that this is futile,” Carl said. “Sym can mathematically determine the precise shot to win every single ball on this table, and I will win as soon as it is my turn.” He took a long sip from the bottle.

Mark considered what he said. “Care to make a bet?” he asked. No sooner did he say that when bets were placed on the table. Mostly against him. There were still twelve balls on the table, after all.

“Yeah, okay. Put me down for fifty,” Carl said. “If you get every single ball on this table, you will soon be a rich man. And you, my friend, do not have a symbiot to guide you.”

“That's true,” Mark admitted, as he cracked a ball. Two went into the hole.

The doors suddenly opened, breaking Mark's concentration. He saw Renolds in the doorway, and shared a glance with Carl. They had been busted.

But the captain was smiling. “Apparently I'm not the only one to have discovered this place. Put me down for two hundred. Against my first officer.”

Chuckles broke out around him. Mark focused back on the task at hand. Six balls were soon gone. Six more remained.

“Odds are still against you,” Carl said.

“That's true,” Mark said as his cue hit another ball. Two more fell into the pocket. Everyone was standing silently. Soon only one ball was left, but it was hugging the rail.

Frantic whispers started all around him. “No way he can make that shot.”

“It's impossible!”

Mark glanced up at all of them, but especially Renolds. “I always play to win,” he said. The first officer hit the cue ball, and with a crack the final ball went into the hole.

Cheers erupted all around him, and Mark was overwhelmed with pats on the back. Money exchanged hands.

Carl chuckled. “Remind me never to bet against you.”

“And now everyone, if you don't mind, I'd like a moment with my two officers,” Renolds said. He and Carl sat down in a small table by the corner. After a moment Mark joined them.

A waitress brought three more beers over. Renolds took a sip from one. “As much as I hate to break up the fun, tomorrow will be all business. I've spent the last few hours going through Thadius's records and found the planet he was referring to earlier. The one that isn't under Soulite occupation. It's not that far at all. Maybe two days away. There's a chance we can learn something there. Carl, you'll be accompanying me. Mark, I'm placing you in charge of the ship.”

Mark raised his eyebrows. “You sure you can trust me with it, Renolds?”

“I expect you to do your job,” Renolds said patiently. The captain stared at both Carl and Mark. “I advise you two to get some rest soon. Tomorrow is another busy day.” He stood, and left.

Mark and Carl glanced at each other for a moment, lifted their glasses and clinked them in unison. Both of them finished off their drinks and headed out the door.

[Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter 18

Elizabeth sat still as Neilson injected a mild sedative into her neck.

“Yo-you're the eighteenth person today that needs something to s-sleep,” Neilson said. “B-but the first tela-telepath.”

“Thanks,” Elizabeth said. “I can still feel the crew's suffering. I doubt any of us are going to get any sleep tonight.”

“B-b-better a ship full of insomniacs than none at all.”

Elizabeth stared at him in curiosity. “You seem unusually happy.”

“I'm just glad that every-everyone's okay.”

“Some of everyone.”

“Most of everyone,” Neilson corrected. Then, after an awkward silence, told her, “They're talking ab-bout you, y-you know. The crew.”

“Really? What about?”

“How everyone l-likes you. H-how the captain favors you. Just how ... you're trying to help. Not like the other telepaths.”

Elizabeth stared at him in astonishment. “I'm just like the others.”

The doors suddenly opened, and Renolds stepped through. “Elizabeth, we have a situation. There's a planet in Thadius's records that might be able to help us. We're going to arrive in a few hours’ time. I need you down there with me.”

“Me? Why me?” Elizabeth asked nervously. It had been a hot topic over the past few days among the crew, about how the captain was taking them to some mystery location. Considering that all the places they had gone to so far were pretty horrible, there were some very frightening rumors circling around.

Renolds gave her a smile. “So far we've been attacked by ships belonging to aliens we can't even see. I'm going in with as many eyes open as I can, including those belonging to a telepath. Gear up for jungle terrain.” Without waiting for her response, he left.

Neilson's eyes were laughing. “Told you so.”

* * * *

The next morning, Mark watched the shuttle take off and fly toward the planet. It was easy to pretend not to care, but deep down, he was worried. There was something off about this planet, a feeling he couldn't place. He couldn't even tell if it was a good or bad feeling, but it made him uneasy. “Come back soon,” he muttered quietly to himself.

* * * *

Three hours later, Renolds descended a steep cliff on a rope line. Thorns cut into his gloves, and the air was hot and humid. Beyond the cliff stretched thousands of miles of jungle. It was strange. Only a short time ago, he was on the coldest planet imaginable. Now he was on the hottest.

“You all right over there, Elizabeth?” Carl asked.

Renolds glanced to his left and then up. Elizabeth was far behind.

“Fine. No problem,” Elizabeth lied. “You?”

“I've been doing this for the past couple of years,” Carl said, and indeed seemed to be having no trouble. The captain beat them first to the ground, and Elizabeth finished several minutes later.

“Leave the ropes. We're going to have to use them to make the trip back up,” Renolds ordered, then chuckled when he heard Elizabeth groan. All three of them started to walk. “Carl?”

“My symbiot is buzzing, Captain. There are definitely power sources along here. This is not your typical jungle. I would almost say that it's a hologram.” His hand touched the very solid tree. “Except that it's not.”

“What about you, Elizabeth?”

Elizabeth bit her lip in frustration. “I'm not sensing anything.”

“We must be getting closer,” Renolds said. “Let's keep going. I don't want any surprises.” He stopped walking when he heard no reply. “Okay?”

There was still no answer. Renolds turned around, and saw nothing but jungle. There was no sign of his fellow crew members. “Elizabeth? Carl?”

No response.

Renolds glanced around. He took out a flare gun and fired it up into the air. With a loud shrill it exploded in the sky. Renolds lowered his arm, watching the flare explode. There was no follow-up or response.

Renolds shouldered his backpack. He had no other choice but to go on ahead. For seven more hours, he tore through the jungle with his machete. Sweat lined his brow and his breath burned in his lungs. He felt like he was walking in circles. Even so, he forced himself to press on throughout the night.

Eventually Renolds fell to the dirt, severely dehydrated. The only thought left in his mind was to sleep.

* * * *

“Captain Osirus, please come in. Over,” Carl said calmly over the radio. Only static answered back. Either there was interference, or the captain was out of range. Carl refused to consider any other possibility.

“I can't believe we got lost so soon,” Elizabeth said. “What do we do now?”

Carl did a quick scan with his symbiot. Even with thermal imaging, he couldn't find any trace of the captain. “We might as well set up camp. We're not going to find him until morning.”

“Camp?” Elizabeth echoed. “You mean you want us to sleep here?”

“I take it you've never gone camping before.”

Elizabeth seemed incredibly nervous. “But ... what if there are poisonous snakes? Or spiders?”

“We'll never be able to find the shuttle in the dark. Besides, it's not much safer on the Vigilant. We're alone in uncharted territory. Any hostile alien could come and blow us up. Not including our new friends, the Soulites,” Carl said, removing his pack. He took out a portable light and a sleeping bag.

“You sound optimistic,” Elizabeth said.

“Actually, I love being outdoors. I spent way too many years trapped in Symbocom.”

“Why?” Elizabeth asked, sitting on a nearby log.

“I had to undergo thousands of tests. The scientists finally let me go after they were sure my head wouldn't explode. I'm kind of their pilot test to see if someone with a symbiot can live in a normal environment. If you call this normal,” Carl explained, untying the knots in the bag. “Out of curiosity, can you even read my mind?”

“Not a lot of people ask me that,” Elizabeth said, and narrowed her eyes. “Yes, I can. Sort of. Some of it I can't understand, but the other part ... It's a nice mind you have.”

Carl opened his bag, still smiling. “What about you? I imagine you must have spent a great deal of your life locked away.”

“That's true. I spent years perfecting telepathy in a controlled environment. Afterward, we were shipped to different vessels. I didn't get to see much of the outdoors,” Elizabeth confessed. She listened to a strange snapping noise. It was probably a tree falling somewhere.

“So you didn't have a choice to board the Vigilant,” Carl noted.

“No one does, but I wanted to go anyway. After spending most of my life in the same place, it was good to try something new.” She brushed away a smudge of dirt on her arm. “Most of the people on the Vigilant are nice. They just don't understand us.”

“I know that feeling.”

Elizabeth looked down. “The captain certainly got a handful when all of us came on board.”

Carl had to agree. “But if anyone can handle it, Renolds can.”

* * * *

"Renolds!"

The captain's eyes flicked open. It was raining. His clothes were already soaked to his skin. He twisted and parted his mouth slightly, allowing droplets to fall through his cracked lips.

"Renolds!"

With a startled jerk Renolds got to his feet, one hand reaching for his gun. He staggered backward against a tree. The wind stirred up around him, blowing leaves.

"Osirus. Osirus! Renolds! Osirus!"

Renolds aimed his gun, but couldn't see anyone. He swore under his breath. The Soulites were here, after all, and he couldn't see them. “Where are you?”

A flicker of light caught his attention to his left. He could see a candle, and the dim outline of a woman with red hair dressed in flowing blue silk. The candle should have gone out easily in the rain. The woman was smiling. Renolds's eyes narrowed. This could easily be a Soulite trick.

Without waiting, the woman turned and walked away from him. Renolds fell to the ground, but only for a moment. He pulled himself up and followed the woman. All night he followed her trail. Even when she had long since disappeared from his sight, he followed the traces left behind: a footprint in the mud, a thread of silk. He knew he should be feeling exhausted, but with each step he felt more renewed.

In the early morning, the rain had stopped, and he had completely lost her trail, but he moved on, confident that he was going in the right direction. The jungle abruptly cleared away into deep rolling hills. Renolds surveyed the land in surprise. He could even hear birds twittering. There was a small, narrow path which led off into the distance.

Renolds joined the trail and proceeded down the hill. He didn't have to go far before he saw a wooden bridge balanced above a small creek. Beyond the bridge was a temple-like structure surrounded by a stone wall. Leading up to the temple was a courtyard. Various bells were attached to ropes, and as Renolds looked up, he could see a stone archway above the bridge he was now standing on.

Laughing children greeted Renolds as he entered the courtyard. They were humanoid, but there was something wrong with them. Their bodies were flickering. Didn't Carl say something about holograms? After staring at them for a moment, Renolds continued past the courtyard toward the stone steps leading up to the temple. He stopped just short of the first one.

Five people were waiting on the steps for him, two women and three men. Unlike the children, they wore elegant white robes with gold trimmings. The one nearest Renolds, a man who appeared to be African with a bald head, gently stretched out his hand. “Hello, Captain Osirus.”

After a moment's hesitation Renolds took the hand, almost in wonderment. The skin felt like he was touching a sponge, and every few seconds energy jumped up and down the man's hand. He clearly wasn't human.

“You knew I was coming?”

In response, the man gestured at the door. Cautiously Renolds followed him inside. He stepped into a massive chamber that was dark, even with the sunlight pouring in from the windows. Three stone pillars caught Renolds's attention. Each had tiny writing, almost too small to make out. Thousands of names. His hand stretched out to the third one, and without any real effort he found his own. It read: Renolds Osirus—by NAVA year 2831.

“What is this place?” Renolds asked.

“For some, a home,” his guide replied. He had already gone far enough that Renolds had to run to catch up to him. They traveled up a large circular stairwell. “For others, a sanctuary. A respite from hard times.” He glanced at Renolds. “From war.”

Renolds turned to the left and in another room he could see dozens of people dressed in white robes sitting on the floor praying. He was unable to see any of their faces.

“Come,” the guide requested. Reluctantly, Renolds followed.

The guide led him to an atrium. Surrounding Renolds were dozens of exotic flowers he had never seen before. At the end of the atrium, a man sat in a chair next to a table. He was considerably older than Renolds with snow-white hair and a wrinkled face.

As Renolds joined him, the man poured two cups of tea. “You have journeyed far, Captain. And you have much further to go on your travels.” His voice was strong and clear, not hoarse in the least, as Renolds had expected it to be.

Renolds asked the question that weighed the most on his mind. “Where is the rest of my party?”

“Safe. They will join you at the end. My name is Torin.”

Renolds cleared his throat. “All right. What is this place?”

“Some use us as a sanctuary. We protect everyone in the universe. Even the Soulites, should they choose to come here. It's not easy to find us, for we are constantly moving in the universe.”

“Moving? What do you mean?”

“You have recently suffered a great loss,” Torin said, changing the subject.

Renolds stared right at him. “I lost a third of my crew.”

“Do not doubt why you are here. Or your ability to command. How did you find us?”

“Through an associate of mine. Thadius,” Renolds said. “He didn't like this place.”

“He was told news he didn't want to hear. That his life had no hope, and he would eventually die in a few years.” He regarded the captain. “You are thinking about negotiating a surrender with the Soulites. Before you lose more people.”

“How did you know that?”

“You will come across many species over the years, Captain. You may think of us as one of the more unique ones. Most of the people here only appear human for your benefit.”

“You mean like telepaths?'

“No. We do not have any such ability. Rather it is faith that guides us. And guides you as well. Through the darkness.”

“The darkness?”

“Of those that attacked you. They who dominate this territory.”

Renolds bowed his head his head as the bleakness of his situation filled him. “I still don't even know how they brought us here, or why. What do you know about the Soulites?”

“Only that their beliefs guide them in what they do. You seem surprised.”

“NAVA has scientifically proven that the concept of a god or any other divine being is impossible.”

“According to NAVA,” Torin said with a chuckle. “Anyway, they are now lost to you. You believe that you are all that is left of your civilization.”

“I don't even know if there is anything to return to.”

“This is beyond NAVA, or your desire to return to Earth. This is the beginning of a great war. A war you can choose to influence,” Torin said. “But you didn't come here for fortune telling, or to drink the tea I made. You came here for information.”

“Yes,” Renolds said. “I need to know who the Soulites are. What they are.”

Torin stared at him for a moment. “Follow me.”

[Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter 19

Elizabeth and Carl continued walking through the jungle. It was strange. Last night she had slept on nothing more than a pile of rocks, really, yet it was the best sleep she'd had for a while. “Anything?”

“Nope,” Carl said. “Nothing on the scanner, or my symbiot. I can still sense abnormal power readings, but I can't localize them. How about you?”

“I can't sense the Captain anywhere.”

“I'm sure he's fine,” Carl said dismissingly.

“Why do you have so much confidence in him?”

“Because I know him,” Carl said. “What do the rest of the crew think of him? I'm sure you've been scanning everyone.”

Elizabeth froze. Truthfully, she had. “One might think you're a telepath,” she muttered.

“Honestly, I'm not,” Carl said calmly. “I just have a thousand equations and probabilities running through my brain every minute. It's not a stretch to believe that the telepaths are doing things which are usually considered illegal by NAVA's standards.”

Elizabeth glared at him, but he wasn't wrong. “Most of the crew are uncertain about the captain. After what happened a few days ago...” She trailed off. “Yet you have absolute faith in him, even now, which is puzzling. Why?”

Carl stared into the jungle. “When we were in the academy, we had this training scenario. It was to test Renolds's competency as captain. I had already passed the class, but since we were both friends, I asked to be there. Anyway, both of us were put on a station orbiting Mars. There was only a skeleton crew commanding the station.”

The chief engineer cleared his throat. “Little did we know, a real emergency was about to happen. That station had always been pretty old and in need of repair. The reactor malfunctioned, and was about to blow. Renolds was the only one who could do anything, and he made the choice. He sealed engineering to minimize the damage. He locked me in there, along with about twenty people, and the reactor blew.”

Elizabeth stared at him with astonishment. “But ... you survived.”

“Fortunately, there was a telepath with me. A very powerful one, Elizabeth, even more than you. Funny thing was, he was trying to hide his identity from NAVA. If they knew he was a telepath, they would have stopped him from enlisting. He raised a shield, just inches away from my face. I can't even describe what that looked like. He stopped the blast long enough for us to escape. Then it killed him. I will always be indebted to telepaths for what he did that day.”

“What happened after that?” Elizabeth asked.

Carl stared at the ground. “I swore that I would never speak to Renolds ever again. I joined symbocom, and he was stationed on Earth for many years, waiting to be a captain.”

Elizabeth frowned. “But ... the way you two talk to each other—”

“It wasn't easy, but we connected again,” Carl said. “Even though we don't see eye-to-eye on everything, I will never question his ability to make the right decisions. If there's a way back to Earth, he will find it. Hopefully soon.”

Elizabeth suddenly caught a stray emotion from the chief engineer-desperation. He was hiding something. “What? What's wrong?”

“Doesn't matter. There's nothing we can—” Carl began, and suddenly looked up.

Several people were looking at them, standing next to different trees. Carl instantly grabbed his gun.

“There's no need for that,” a woman said. “We can lead you back to your captain.”

* * * *

As Torin led Renolds through the jungle, the older man didn't speak at all, giving the captain time to reflect on the past few days. Mark was right about one thing: Renolds was a pencil-pusher, and he liked things neat and tidy. The very day he had taken command of the Vigilant, everything had changed. Since then, Renolds had lived in chaos. He questioned, especially now, why he'd left the role of accountant and re-joined the military.

Every day since the attack on Earth, he'd considered himself a barely adequate captain, one that couldn't properly lead his crew. He felt like he had personally let each and every one of them down.

Not anymore, Renolds vowed silently to himself. Never again.

Torin stopped suddenly. In front of him was a cave entrance. “This is as far as I go.”

“You said this will lead to all of my answers,” Renolds said.

“Perhaps,” Torin said. “It is different for each person. Maybe you will find nothing. It depends on her. Some people have gone down but never come up again. Few in our order have the courage to see what is down here.”

Renolds peered into the cave. He could see nothing but darkness and gave one last glance at Torin, who met his gaze without expression.

After a moment, Renolds entered the cave. It descended until there was a cliff edge. Renolds slowly climbed down the rock wall. He had spent years as an experienced mountain climber. Even in this situation, Renolds felt a strange sense of calm. When he was able to reach sufficiently stable ground, he gently slapped a flare against his wrist. The cavern lit up with blue light. Tossing a rock told Renolds he still had a long way to descend. He tied the flare to his backpack and climbed farther down.

After two hours, Renolds touched bottom. He lifted the flare to get a better look. He was in an underground temple of some kind. He studied the markings on a pillar, written in a language he couldn't understand. Renolds searched through the chamber, and found it completely empty. The place was eerie, and whatever purpose he was meant for, it definitely wasn't here. The flare sputtered out and he grabbed a fresh one from his backpack. Shaking it to life, he turned around.

He felt a breeze. Fresh air.

Renolds traveled through the next chamber. The walls and floor were covered with ivy. As he approached the stone exit he could feel a stronger draft. Beyond the exit he could see hills, and a dark green sky mostly covered by clouds. A soft yellow light beckoned to him, just beyond the first hill. Renolds stepped through the stone doorway, thankful to be outside. He walked down a small path toward the light.

The sound of rushing water from a small stream greeted Renolds. A narrow bridge offered him access across. His eyes focused on a pale woman in a blue dress holding a swinging lantern. She was staring at Renolds and did not say anything. Off in the distance, Renolds could hear a faint sound that was best described as wind chimes, followed by a whisper which approach from all directions around him. “Osirus..."

It occurred to Renolds that he had no idea what to say to this woman. “That's me, yes. Do you know who I am?”

“Do you know who I am?” the woman returned without speaking.

Renolds frowned. “No.”

“We are a species far different from your own. You could consider us time travelers, although we are so much more. The past has been lived. The future has already been seen. We stand without time. Our purpose is like this water, providing substance to both the good and the bad. We stand without judgment, and without bias.”

“What do you mean? I don't understand.”

The woman studied him. “Perhaps you do. You think this is not important, but one day you will desperately need to understand our purpose. Listen now. For several millennia, we would not interfere at all. Then one of our own did. The reasons are not relevant. The result was the eventual end of all things. Since then, we have meddled, attempting to fix what was wrong so that the future is complete again.” The woman gazed to the east, her face distant. “It is a trying road. Most of our order is made of people taken from other worlds and other times. Torin is a prime example. They each have their own hearts. The future will never be as perfect as it once was.”

Renolds blinked. “You're talking about fate, aren't you?”

She turned her calm gaze toward him. “You are living in such an imperfect moment, Osirus. Fate dictated one way. You are going another. A mistake was made in the past that needs to be fixed. Right now your crew is splintered. Divided. It will be your undoing. Uniting them will be your task. And for that, you will need this.” The woman lifted an item folded in white cloth. She handed it to him, and he took it carefully with both hands. Rising winds forced Renolds to shout.

“What will it do? What about the Soulites? That's why I came! You haven't told me anything about them!”

Despite the approaching storm, the woman's voice was as clear as a bell. Her face was unchanged. “You already know your next move. Go.”

“But why tell me your history?”

For the first time, a ghost of a smile touched the woman's lips. “Perhaps we will meet again one day. I want to be understood just once.”

“Thank ... thank you,” Renolds said.

“Your thanks are not necessary. Go while you still can.”

Renolds turned and headed back the way he came. He turned back only once, just in time to see her disappear to ash and scatter over the breeze.

* * * *

As Renolds left the cave he was startled to see sunlight. It appeared to be mid-day.

“You've been gone a long time,” Torin said, sitting on a rock. “Did you find your answers?”

“Not really. But she did give me something.” Slowly, the captain unwrapped the cloth. A dark blue rock nestled there.

Torin's gray eyes widened. “Trust me, my friend, do not ever lose that. This object, more than anything, will help you defeat the Soulites.”

“Really?” Renolds asked, studying the blue rock with a great deal of doubt.

“Even our ability to travel back in time pales in comparison to this. She gave you quite the gift. I guess she must favor you.”

“Who is she?”

“Immortal. And alone. Like everyone else here,” Torin replied.

“She said that you belonged to another time and another place.”

“Yes. I was once a monk and a scribe. Even after all these long years and what I've seen, I still miss writing against chipped wooden tables, the soft candlelight, and the smell of dried roses.” He paused. “And the calm. Yes, definitely the calm.”

* * * *

“I wish you success in your mission,” Torin said two hours later. “And although it seems impossible, that you find your way back home.”

“Thank you,” Renolds replied. Carl and Elizabeth were standing with him. Neither of them seemed the worse for wear. If anything, they seemed incredibly rested. Renolds himself felt as if he'd had a good week of sleep, even though he had spent the whole night making his way through a cave. The captain turned to face them. “I have reached an agreement with Torin. He will help us bury our dead here.”

“You may visit them when you wish, but if you search for us, we will not be here.”

“Will I ever see you again?”

Torin's face was perfectly serious. “Yes. In a time when you will not wish to.”

Renolds didn't know how to respond, so he remained quiet.

“Captain, you are ready,” Torin said. “And I don't think I have to tell you that your next move is critical.” He glanced at Elizabeth as though he was about to say something else, but didn't. “Good luck.”

Without waiting for a response, he left them in the clearing. The three members of the Vigilant stood alone.

“Let's go back to the ship,” Renolds said.

“Where are we going?” Carl asked as they started to walk.

“We're going to the Soulite base.”

* * * *

The next week was a blur of activity. Repairs were hastily made to the Vigilant. Carl spent most of his time learning as much as he could about the Soulite ships and gave daily briefings. Mark and Telsia devoted a great deal of time giving weapons and hand-to-hand training to various officers. The evenings were spent thinking of various strategies to enter the Soulite base undetected.

On the fifth day, Carl summoned Renolds to engineering. He was watching the core with some real worry. “Ordias's last act before he killed himself,” he said. “I can't fix this type of damage. The best I can do is rig some more generators and maybe find a way to enhance their power. That means we'll only have life support and thrusters. Anything else would be too much of a drain on the core.”

“Weapons? Can you get those?”

“No,” Carl said, and turned around. “Captain, even if by some miracle we could somehow get more generators and restore power, it will only be a short-term solution. The mechanism separating matter and antimatter is completely smashed. Getting a new reactor simply won't work.”

“But surely you can—”

“We need to get back to Earth, and soon,” Carl interrupted. “This is not a problem I can fix. It'll start with malfunctions, then more malfunctions. Eventually we will have to abandon ship.”

“How long?” Renolds asked.

“Without generators, two weeks at the most. If we somehow get more generators, I'd say eight months before they stop being effective. And then we're completely dead.”

“All right,” Renolds said. “There's going to be a staff meeting tonight. Be there.”

* * * *

Later that night, the senior officers were gathered around a table in the center of the strategy room. Renolds pushed a button, and a blue three-dimensional holographic map shot up from the table. It displayed a very incomplete map of the galaxy. “Based on the information collected from Thadius, we know that the Soulites’ main base is here.” He highlighted a section of the map. “Long-range scans have also told us exactly what we're dealing with.”

“A station,” Telsia said.

Renolds glanced at Carl. “Do we have enough power?”

“And then some. But are we actually going?” Carl asked.

Renolds was deep in thought, blue lines of light from the map danced across his face. “Yes,” he eventually said.

“Are we going to negotiate with the Soulites?” Telsia asked, her voice cold.

All the senior officers looked at the captain.

“No,” Renolds said. “Along with the coordinates, Thadius also provided a detailed map of the space station. Carl, Mark and I have spent the last week formulating a plan.”

The first officer touched the screen, and another section highlighted red. It was roughly in the middle of the station. “This is the level we need. We don't have a lot of details, but the only way to access their main archive is through two control terminals, here and here.” He pointed to opposite ends of the station. “Both of them are on the same level. We believe that each terminal has half of the memory archive of the entire station. Therefore we will take our remaining two shuttles with two teams. Telsia and Carl will be in shuttle one. Carl—”

“Sym can access and store any information faster than a hand-held sensor can,” Carl said.

“How long do you need?”

Carl considered. “Five minutes.”

“Good,” Renolds said. “Telsia, it will be your job to protect Carl while he's doing this. For those of us who do not have a symbiot, it'll take a little longer. Team two will be Mark and myself. We will proceed to the opposite end of the station and download the second terminal. With luck, it'll only take us twenty minutes. This is an in-and-out operation. No reason to stay. No contact with the Soulites. Our mission is to gain as much information as we can about them and possibly Earth. If we're really lucky, maybe we'll find a way back.”

“And just how are we supposed to board the station with no weapons?” Telsia asked coldly.

“We have one,” Renolds said, glancing at Elizabeth. “The telepaths may have the ability to stop the Soulites. Unfortunately, Elizabeth is the only one who seems to want to help us. She'll be accompanying Mark and me.”

“What about us?” Carl asked.

“If there is any trouble, return immediately to the shuttle,” Renolds said, and cleared his throat. “Look, you all know the situation. You all know the risks. The odds for us are not the greatest. Let's face it, when have they ever been good for us?”

Mark gave a start as Renolds said this, although the captain wasn't sure why.

“I realize all of us have had our differences with each other,” Renolds continued. “But we all came from Earth, and these things attacked our home. We are a NAVA military vessel, and NAVA will expect us to do our duty. Those who were part of the Resistance, or telepaths, or new species entirely, it doesn't matter.” He cleared his throat. “This is a new war, a war we're all part of. I intend to grab some knowledge about these monsters and send it back to Earth on our way out the door. That is the reason why we're here. What we have to do is going to take all of us working to the fullest. Most of all, it's going to take us working together. Dismissed.”

* * * *

Elizabeth watched as everyone left. She knew that she should be happy, but secretly, fear dripped down her spine. Even from the Vigilant, she could already sense hundreds of Soulites from the station. Waiting to kill them.

With a start, she realized that the strategy room was almost empty, except for one person.

“You don't have to do this, you know,” Mark said.

Elizabeth wouldn't meet his eyes. “If I don't, who else is going to do it?”

“We've proven that you can repel them. Not destroy them. And I bet there's going to be more than one on the station,” Mark said, voicing her worst fears.

“That was a long time ago,” Elizabeth said, with more confidence than she felt. “My powers have grown since then.”

Without waiting for him to reply, she quickly walked out of the strategy room. Elizabeth could feel his eyes follow her as she left. After a moment of debate, Elizabeth decided to get something to eat. She wasn't really hungry, but she didn't want to return to her empty quarters either. The cafeteria was already full of people. Unlike the restaurant, they wouldn't really notice a telepath.

She stopped in front of the vending machine. Immediately a cheerful male voice spoke. “Welcome to NAVA supersonic vending machines. Please make your selection in the next thirty-one seconds. We are serving NAVA coffee topped with blue cream, NAVA spunky cola, NAVA—”

Elizabeth pushed three coins in and selected the cola. Anything to make the voice stop.

“Welcome to NAVA supersonic vending machines. Please make your selection in the next eighteen seconds. We are serving NAVA caramel coffee—”

Desperately Elizabeth pushed the button again. With no result.

“Welcome to NAVA supersonic vending machines. We are assuming that you do not want to make a selection. Please step away from the vending machines now or security will be notified.”

Elizabeth glanced around. People were staring at her from the benches with open amusement. The telepath hit the machine again, and the cola dropped to the bottom.

With a sigh Elizabeth grabbed the cola. As she straightened she was startled to see a man appear next to the vending machine. It was Myers.

“What are you doing?” Myers whispered and gestured with his head at the crew. “Helping them? They don't deserve us.” The last words ended in a hiss.

He looked once at the cola, and it exploded. Soon the contents emptied onto the floor. People pointed at her and laughed.

Her face burned with anger as she cleaned up the mess.

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Chapter 20

In a rare, free moment, Renolds shifted through a pile of papers in his office: the latest reports from his department heads. He glanced up at the door as it chimed. “Come in.”

The doors opened, and Telsia stepped into the room. For a long time she didn't say anything. “Captain,” she began, folding her hands behind her back. “Before you leave there are certain facts that you should be aware of. Facts I have neglected to mention because I was ordered by the highest chain of NAVA command not to. But seeing as how we might not have a command when we return, I must divulge them now.”

Renolds stared at her, highly intrigued.

“Nine years ago, the Vigilant did a reconnaissance mission near Jupiter. The ship was brutally attacked and transported to another region of space ... this region. We limped aimlessly for a few days before we were attacked again. Immediately after that, the crew started to go insane, butchering one another. Finally the captain ordered all personnel to evacuate the ship using the escape pods. I'm not sure what happened to them. We finally hit upon the idea that telepaths were responsible, and drastic measures were taken. Several telepaths were killed. But it did not solve the problem, because by then the entire crew had been infected for far too long and ... I...” Telsia swallowed. “I shot the captain.”

Renolds gasped at her, but she apparently didn't notice. “I'm not sure how I was the only one not infected. Eventually, the ship drifted into a nebula. There were no stars, no life. Nothing. Just ... green light all around me. I met the Soulites.”

“What?” Renolds asked.

Telsia continued, “At the time, I thought I was going crazy. I did not believe they were real. It was because of them that the Vigilant returned to our universe. For a price. And after that, NAVA negotiated a treaty with the Soulites.”

“What?” Renolds whispered.

“Yes. NAVA has known about the Soulites for years. They had, until recently, the beginnings of a stable alliance. Technology was traded. Carl's symbiot, for example, contains technology created by the Soulites. Not that he is aware of it.”

“So what went wrong?” Renolds asked.

“A few insignificant people discovered the secret alliance, among them a man named Marcus Collingway. And thus, the Resistance. Perhaps they were the heroes in the end. But they could have never won. The Soulites were far too powerful. And now suddenly we are all here, and I don't believe it's a coincidence.”

“Just what are the Soulites?” Renolds demanded.

Telsia met his gaze. “The very embodiment of all fear. Are you sure you still want to go?”

Renolds stared at the paperwork on his desk. “It's the right thing to do.”

“Which doesn't stop people from getting killed.”

“Sometimes it does.” Renolds looked up at her. “You realize, of course, that if you had told me any of this earlier, a hundred lives of my crew might not have been lost.” His voice quaked with anger.

“Yes, sir. I know. Which is why I can't be a part of this crew anymore.” She tugged off the command pins from her pocket and placed them on the glass table.

“I am tendering my resignation, as of now.”

“Resignation denied,” Renolds said.

“Captain?”

“You said it yourself when we first met. I need you. So, request officially denied.”

Telsia watched him for a moment, her eyes empty. She reached for the pins. Renolds's hand clamped on hers. “But you won't be taking those back. You have to earn them again.”

Telsia didn't reply. She abruptly turned to face the door.

“One last thing, Telsia. You said there was a price for returning to Earth? What was it? What did you pay?”

Before she could answer, the intercom chimed. “Captain, you are needed on the bridge right away.”

“Understood,” Renolds said calmly. He stood and walked out of his office without as much as a backward glance at Telsia.

* * * *

Even though Renolds had not spoken a word of their encounter, everyone on the ship seemed to know about his conversation with Telsia. Therefore, Renolds wasn't surprised when Mark hurried to join him in the hall as the captain made his way from the bridge.

“Renolds, wait.”

Renolds activated the control for the elevator. “I know what you're going to say, Mark, and believe me, this is one conversation I don't want to have right now.” He glanced briefly at his first officer. “I know that you've lied to me from the beginning. You knew about the Soulites. And you chose not to tell me.”

Mark looked confused, but said nothing.

“This private war between us regarding who's right and who's wrong, it's irrelevant. We're both stuck here, right now, in the same situation. And the only way to get back is through the Soulite station. That should be good enough for you.”

“It isn't. Renolds, you can't win against the Soulites if you use NAVA principles. It just won't work. You need to stop being the captain NAVA wants you to be and maybe start being the captain you should be.”

That made Renolds freeze. He glared at Mark. “You listen to me,” he said softly. “No matter how much you like to enjoy believing it, NAVA is not destroyed yet. Not here, not on this vessel.” His teeth grit in anger as he stepped onto the elevator. “It will always exist here!”

Mark blinked in surprise as the doors closed in his face.

* * * *

The next day, the crew was in surprisingly high spirits. They were less afraid of encountering the Soulites again than they were hopeful they'd find a way home. Which, Carl thought, was the reason they had to repair the sensor grid as soon as possible. Binary sensors could only tell so much. He glanced away from the computer screen. “Anything yet?”

Buried halfway under a control console, Mark grunted a negative. “This may surprise you, but I'm not exactly an expert in NAVA's newest technology,” he said. As the cable exploded into sparks, the first officer jumped and hit his head on the console. The panel above him lit up.

Carl grinned. “We'll make an engineer out of you yet.” He hurried to the wall and flipped on the intercom. “Captain, we have sensors back!”

“Nice job,” Renolds said. “We're approaching the Soulite station. Both of you get up here now.”

The two officers hurried out of engineering. A few minutes later, Mark and Carl arrived on the pitch-black bridge. They both silently joined Renolds, who greeted them with a small nod.

Renolds turned. “Activate view screen.”

Hannah obliged, and for the first time, they were able to see what area of space they were traveling in. It was breathtaking, yet at the same time, hauntingly eerie. Renolds was given the impression that he was traveling under water, staring at an endless green abyss devoid of any stars. They were facing a light bright enough to cause green reflections to dance on the bridge. It was difficult to make out anything clearly, and soon Renolds became dizzy.

“Captain,” Hannah spoke up. “If you would like, I can create an illusion of normal space. It might be easier to see and be less ... weird.”

Renolds nodded. Under normal circumstances he would like to follow every detail he could, but his head was swimming just trying to see it all. “Proceed.”

Hannah keyed in the necessary controls, and a moment later the familiar black space they were accustomed to replaced the green. In the far distance Renolds could see a blue beacon of light. “Can we magnify that?”

“Not at this range.”

“Then get us closer,” Mark said. “A lot closer.”

Renolds added, “And signal all department heads. Have them meet us in docking bay two. Now.”

* * * *

Telsia hurried into the security office. There wasn't a lot of time, but she wanted to pick up her specially modified guns. They had more power and more range. From the drawer of her desk, the security chief picked up a NAVA hairpin, saturated in poison. Lastly, she picked up a stun disruption. Special security issue. A lot more painful than the standard weapons and guaranteed to take the fight out of anybody.

There was just one more thing to do. The security chief sat down in her leather chair. “Computer, access all personnel files relating to Marcus Collingway.”

The computer beeped negative. The files were classified and locked under a red designation. Very few people in NAVA could access that file. Obviously the conspiracy went to the highest station.

But Telsia wasn't the type of woman to let something like a classified lock stop her. All her life, she had trusted no one and had spent years working on several distasteful methods in order to discover the truth. “Begin hacking protocol Telsia four.” Another beep confirmed this, and after a few failures, Telsia managed to break the code. A moment later, the file unlocked. It displayed the burning logo of NAVA, and then switched to a map of a human brain.

There was a lot of detail, but Telsia glanced only briefly at the report. She turned the computer off. This was a very big problem. For a moment she debated telling Renolds, and decided to do so only after the mission was complete. There was no time now. She grabbed her gun before heading out the door.

* * * *

Renolds stood on a narrow walkway, overlooking the cargo bay. He could see Telsia, Mark and Carl gearing up below.

“How are you with this?” Telsia asked.

Carl grabbed a gun and charged it. “Having a computer in my head automatically makes me the best shot among the crew. Otherwise, I would be pretty lousy.” He glanced up at her. “What about you?”

“I'll get the job done.”

Renolds watched all three of them. “As everyone knows, our armory was blown up last week. The guns you're carrying are the only ones we have left. Try not to waste ammo.”

The com crackled to life. “Captain, we are now within scanning range of the Soulite Station,” Hannah reported.

Renolds walked over to the wall and activated the com panel. “On our way.”

They arrived on the bridge a minute later. Renolds noticed Elizabeth was there, staring at the view screen. The Soulite Station glowed too brightly to make out any details. He could, however, see a cloud of debris around the station. It seemed to be the wreckage of several different vessels. “Carl?”

Carl was already at the science station. “Looks like we can scan them, but they can't scan us,” he finally said. “Internally, the entire station is dead. I'm not reading a single power source.”

“Life signs?” Renolds asked.

“According to the scans, none.”

There was silence on the bridge. Renolds couldn't tear his gaze away from the space station.

“There is life,” Elizabeth whispered.

Carl glanced at her. “If we were closer, I could get a better reading.”

Renolds nodded to Hannah. “Do it, Miss Daniels.”

The ship trembled as it moved in closer.

“Are you sure they can't see us?” Renolds demanded.

“Yeah,” Carl said. “Trust me, they have no idea that we're here.”

“Sir, we're getting a message!” Hannah said.

“All stop!” Renolds ordered. Hannah keyed in the necessary controls, and the ship lurched to a stop. For a moment, there was silence on the bridge.

“Or maybe they do,” Carl muttered.

“Let's hear it, Miss Daniels,” Renolds ordered.

“It's audio only,” Hannah reported, and played the transmission.

A female voice spoke. “Greetings from the Soulites to the NAVA ship Vigilant. We know that you have been in our area of space for some time now. Captain Renolds and Commander Collingway, please come aboard our station. We have much to discuss with the two of you.” After that, there was only static. Hannah turned it off.

“What do we do?” Mark asked.

“Do we have two-way communications?” Renolds asked.

“Not enough power,” Hannah replied.

Renolds looked at Mark. “What do we do, Commander? The plan. Tell Carl and Telsia to gear up. We're going in.”

Mark automatically walked toward the elevator.

“But you're staying here,” Renolds added.

Mark stared at him, frowning a little. There was a tense silence.

“Don't worry,” Elizabeth reassured him. “We'll be fine.”

As neutral as his face was, Renolds didn't exactly share her confidence.

* * * *

Ten minutes later, Renolds was in the locker room, zipping up his blue NAVA vest. He grabbed his gun and closed the locker. He was not a good shot at all. In the war, he was a radio technician, not a soldier. He had never even killed anyone before boarding the Vigilant. Shaking his head, Renolds left the room and exited out into the hallway.

He found Mark waiting for him. “I should come with you.”

Renolds stepped into the elevator and pushed the button. He held the door open. “I thought you didn't care about anyone from NAVA.”

Mark looked startled, but recovered quickly. “I'm the only person besides telepaths that can see them. You need me there.”

“I also need someone to command the ship,” Renolds said gently. “Carl and Elizabeth can see them too. We'll be fine.” He glanced at Mark's burning eyes. “Mark, this has nothing to do with trust. The Soulite delegation requested both of us, and I intend to spoil their plans any way I can.” He released the button. “Take good care of my ship, Commander. She's all yours.”

For a moment Mark opened his mouth as though he was about to say something. Before Renolds could react, he closed it into a tight grimace as the doors closed.

* * * *

A few minutes later two shuttles left the Vigilant. Communication was open between them. “So far, no power signatures from the station,” Carl said over the radio.

“Shuttle two confirms everything is quiet here too,” Renolds replied. “Let's hope it stays that way.”

“Captain,” Elizabeth whispered, standing up.

Renolds peered out the window. Directly in front of them was the Soulite space station, but it was unlike anything Renolds could have imagined. Blue light stretched and pulsed from the exterior, with a hint of gold sparkle toward the end of each point. It was beautiful.

“Beginning preliminary scans,” Carl said. “Be advised the temperature is fluctuating on the station. Some areas are below freezing. Others are hotter than our sun. I'll try and map out a safe path from my end.”

“Acknowledged. We're not picking up any life forms on the station, but there are also some strange readings. Carl, link up with our sensors.”

“All right.” There was a pause. “Huh. Looks like the strange readings are coming from the thermal levels of the stations. And different signatures coming from the freezing levels.”

“Different life forms,” Telsia said.

“Maybe different Soulites,” Renolds added.

“Captain, Sym's mapped out the entire area,” Carl said. “Telsia and I have a safe path, but you don't. To get to your terminal, you're going to have to go through some pretty cold areas.”

“Understood. We'll be fine. We're approaching the station now. Maintain radio silence unless absolutely necessary. And good luck to both of you,” Renolds said.

* * * *

Telsia stepped onto the metal grating, with Carl right behind her. She was instantly struck by how quiet it was. This place had no life at all. She glanced around the cargo bay, which appeared very similar to their own.

“Sym's not picking up any readings. Maybe nobody's home,” Carl said with false optimism.

“I wouldn't bet on it,” Telsia said dryly.

Carl opened his scanner to do another reading.

“Which way to the information archive?” Telsia asked. When Carl didn't answer she turned around. “I said, which—” She immediately noticed the air shimmering behind Carl, who was heavily engrossed in his scans.

“Davids, behind you! Soulite!”

Carl turned around, his gun raised. “What? Where?”

“He was...” Telsia began, and froze. There was nothing behind him now. “Something was there!”

A low, dry chuckle suddenly echoed all around them. Carl turned around, backing up against the wall. “Now that, I heard.”

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Chapter 21

Without any difficulty, Renolds piloted and landed his shuttle in the loading bay. They exited from the shuttle into a stone cavern with very little illumination. “Interesting,” he remarked. “It's several degrees below freezing but there's no frost. No ice on the walls.”

“The ground is really squishy,” Elizabeth said. “As though the entire station is alive.”

“Hmm. Are you picking up anything on your telepathic radar?”

“No. Nothing. When the other ships attacked us, I could at least feel their presence. Now...” She trailed off.

“Let's keep going,” Renolds advised. Elizabeth and Renolds arrived at the foot of a large cavern glowing with dancing blue light. Unlike everywhere else, the walls were encased in sparkling white ice. Above them, the ceiling seemed to go on forever. At the very top they could see several ghosts floating.

“Captain...” Elizabeth whispered.

“I can see them,” Renolds said quietly. Thankfully, this kind of Soulite wasn't invisible. He shouldered his backpack, and the two started to walk across the cavern. Their boots crunched against broken ice.

“They know we're here,” Elizabeth said.

Suddenly, one of the beings touching the ceiling floated down in front of them. It stopped in front of Renolds.

In that moment, the captain suddenly realized he was staring at the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his life.

* * * *

Carl immediately noticed how much Telsia was panting and checked the temperature on his scanner. “We're very close to the heated parts of the station. It shouldn't get any worse than this.” He glanced at her. “Are you okay?”

“Fine. Just give me a moment,” Telsia said, doubling over. The security chief took in a few deep, steady breaths. “What about you? You don't seem very affected by it.”

“Sym can regulate my body temperature to a certain extent.”

“Lucky you.”

Carl put away the scanner with a click. “If it helps, I was also born in the Nevada desert. This type of heat does nothing to me.”

“So when did you decide to become a freak?” Telsia asked, straightening.

“Two years ago. So when did you decide to become such a cold bitch?” Carl retorted, and gave her an apologetic smile. “Advanced psychology was downloaded into my brain, too. Although I barely use it.”

Telsia scowled. “We've rested long enough. Let's get moving.” She shouldered firmly past him and led the way.

Carl watched her go. “Understood, ma'am.” He turned and followed.

* * * *

It strained Elizabeth's eyes to watch the creature floating in front of them. She was looking at pure white light, but she could also see a feminine face in the brilliance. Gradually, she could make out more features: a torso, arms, and wings. Elizabeth did not believe in angels, yet she was watching one all the same. She released the breath that she had been holding, which instantly became a white cloud in the sub-zero temperature. Whatever the creature was, it seemed to be fixated on Renolds. The angel moved to touch his face with a glowing hand. Renolds made no move to stop her.

Elizabeth held a scanner in her hand. “I'm picking up no readings from this Soulite.”

“Can't you hear their thoughts?” Renolds asked, sounding disinterested.

“N-no.” Why couldn't she hear their thoughts? It was as though they were not alive. Dead. Dead things. With a touch of death ... “Captain, get back!”

Renolds made no move to do so, and the white light threatened to envelope him at any second. Elizabeth took the gun from Renolds's holster and fired at the Soulite. It was a nice thought, but accomplished nothing.

“Captain!” Elizabeth shrieked, but it was too late. The lips of the Soulite brushed against Renolds's. He made a strange choking sound in the back of his throat.

Elizabeth did the only thing she could think of. The telepath dropped the gun, which skidded across the ice. Her fingers reached forward and touched both sides of Renolds's head. Without a single thought to the danger, she connected with the captain's mind.

Her vision exploded with silver light. The captain was lost in a sea of confusion and images. Elizabeth immediately understood. The Soulite intended to kill him by driving his mind so far away from his body that he couldn't be saved.

Renolds had a well-structured, organized mind. Logical. A more open mind might have stood a chance against the currents threatening to tear them apart, but not Renolds. Not her captain. And the Soulite somehow knew this and was acting fast upon it.

Elizabeth closed her eyes and focused. She became a weighted anchor against the madness, a beacon to draw the captain back. After a few moments, she felt Renolds searching, trying to find her. In doing so he struggled to find himself as well, despite the Soulite trying to murder his mind. He held onto her mentally as she drew them both back into the real world.

But before that happened, she became aware of a new threat, one far more powerful than her.

“Lizzie...” a voice whispered.

* * * *

Mark paced the bridge. This was annoying. He was used to being on the front lines, not directing a battle from afar, which was probably why he would never be a captain in his forced career. “Anything from the search parties?”

“Not since you asked five minutes ago. And the five minutes before that,” Hannah said tonelessly.

“What about the space station?”

“Still powered down.”

Mark resumed pacing.

“Change that!” Hannah said. “Soulite Station powering up now!”

“How long until it is fully operational?”

Hannah consulted her readings. “Thirty minutes.”

* * * *

Renolds opened his eyes. He and Elizabeth were still in the crystallized chamber. His hands immediately reached out to grab Elizabeth as she fell backward, unconscious. Renolds dragged her until they were out of the chamber. As soon as he was outside the door, it twisted and turned into a solid wall. Renolds touched it to make sure that it was real. Under no circumstances did he ever want to return to that room.

Renolds just managed to brace himself against the wall as the station suddenly trembled. He turned on the radio. “Mark, what's happening?”

“We're reading a massive build-up of power from the base of the station. It seems to be causing tremors along the upper levels. Daniels was able to do a partial sensor reading. The space station is old, Renolds, at least three hundred years. It may not be able to stand the pressure of powering up.”

“I'll keep that under advisement,” Renolds said. “Anything else?”

“We've found some external weapons. No reason to worry, they're completely rusted through and can't hurt us. That's the good news.”

“Do I want to hear the bad?”

“We've also found a shipyard. Fifty Soulite ships are attached to the hull of the station. They're dormant. For now.”

“How long until the Soulite station is up and running?” Renolds asked.

“Twenty-three minutes. So, no pressure.”

“All right. Keep me updated on any changes,” Renolds said, and turned off the radio. He glanced down where Elizabeth lay unconscious on the icy ground. All of a sudden, her brown eyes snapped open.

Renolds moved closer, wondering if she knew how terrified she made him. “Elizabeth?”

Elizabeth straightened and didn't seem to even register his presence. The telepath started to hyperventilate in panic. “We're too close,” she whispered. “It's waking up!”

* * * *

The Security Chief and Chief Engineer reached the link to the information archive without encountering any more Soulites. Carl activated the archive and for a few minutes studied data that rolled on the screen faster than the normal human brain could process. Occasionally, he would write something into his scanner.

“How much longer is this going to take?” Telsia asked.

Carl muttered something under his breath.

She glanced at him. “What?”

“I said, I'm almost done.”

A sudden noise made both of them glance around the empty chamber. Telsia drew her gun. “I'm on it. You keep working. Understood?”

No response.

“All right?” Telsia asked. She frowned and turned around. “Hey—”

Carl was gone, and so was his equipment. Now she was alone.

Alone ... so alone...

Telsia whirled around, her gun raised. “Oh, I see. This is a trick to make me feel guilty for losing my original crew. It's not going to work.”

There was no response. Telsia's frown deepened as she stepped forward. The silence was unnerving. Right in front of her was a crude railing. Beyond that was a massive chasm. She threw her spare flashlight down, and watched as it plummeted beyond her sight. The chasm seemed bottomless.

Telsia turned around again, just to make sure Carl was still gone. She tried her communicator, but it was dead. There was no noise, anywhere. “This is a trick,” Telsia repeated. “It isn't going to fool me.”

Suddenly her ears exploded with pain as a thousand screams rose up from the chasm. Screams from people that she knew: Osirus, Collingway, Elizabeth, her own father. The sheer impact of the sudden noise forced her to brace herself on the railing. A feeling of nausea gripped her. Telsia's eyes rolled up in her head. Her body started to shake.

Telsia ... Join us in the abyss...

Telsia grunted sharply, recognizing it as the sound of a woman clinging to life.

Murderer. Butcher. Traitor.

Very slowly, Telsia forced her eyes open. A flash of bright light blinded her and—the next moment Telsia was crouching next to a padded wall. Her arms were restricted by a straight-jacket. Sweat rapidly gathered on her forehead. She looked up to see a doctor standing over her. “She keeps insisting that there are Soulites, but there are none,” the doctor said. “The patient went insane and killed her own crew. Now she has the delusion of a second crew that will forgive her for all her sins. As a result, the patient is now in a catatonic state."

Telsia closed her eyes. This couldn't be real. Or could it? What if it was all true?

When she next opened her eyes, she was back on the Vigilant so many years ago. Covered in blood, she dragged the shotgun against the floor as she slowly staggered down the hall. Finally she collapsed to sob on the deck.

The scene changed again, and Telsia got a flickering sense that she was in a different time, perhaps years later.

The security chief was in a dark passageway, unable to see much ahead. The sound of desperate fighting caught her attention. Renolds was fighting hand-to-hand against two Soulites.

These types Telsia had never seen before. They were black but flickered with a hint of white, like a bad television reception. The captain was able to hold his own, but it was clear that he was tiring, and his blows had little effect. As he launched into a vicious kick, he noticed Telsia for the first time. “Telsia! Help me!"

Telsia noticed that she had a gun and raised it. But then one of the Soulites glanced directly at her. Immediately Telsia's skin began to wrinkle and her hair turned white as snow. She gasped as arthritis shot through her body. She fell to her knees, taking one deep horrified breath after another. This was not happening ... this was not happening...

Renolds was also staring at her in shock. As a result he didn't notice the long blade extending behind him. It plunged into his body. Renolds doubled over and fell to the ground...

Telsia closed her eyes. Sobs escaped from her clenched lips. One after another the visions swam through her mind. She saw herself crazy again. She saw her captain dying because of her. Lastly, she saw herself stumbling and falling in the hall. Her eyes snapped opened, and she was back on the empty Soulite Station. She was also leaning heavily on the railing, a railing that was only seconds away from snapping. Below her, green light sparked and erupted from the bottom of the core. Quickly, she stepped back just as it broke apart and fell into the open abyss. The security chief took in a few, steady breaths. It was all a trick. None of it was real. No screaming.

Wait, there was screaming!

Carl...

Telsia's eyes widened. She turned around and ran back the way she came, her boots clicking against the grating. Even before Telsia entered the terminal chamber, she heard the sound of drilling. Her eyes immediately spotted Carl on the floor, screaming. She scanned the chamber but could see no sign of the Soulites. Considering that she couldn't detect them to begin with, that wasn't much help. She ran to Carl's side, and touched his shoulder. “Davids!”

“Ugh!” Carl jerked up. His eyes were wide and blood was running from the side of his head. “Wha ... where were you?”

“What happened?” Telsia demanded.

“I'm not sure. Something hit me...”

“You're bleeding from your symbiot.”

“What?” Carl touched the blood and stared at his hand. “They tried to ... drill it out.” For the first time since she had known him, terror crept into his voice. “We have to get out of here ... Get the captain. We can't fight something like this.”

“No. This place is trying to affect our minds. Make us leave. I need you to focus. Keep taking slow breaths and just do the job.” Her voice softened. “I won't leave again. I promise.”

“All right,” Carl said. “Let's hurry.”

He stood with Telsia's help.

[Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter 22

With a touch of a button, Renolds opened the door. In front of him there was a metal walkway, and below it, a dark abyss. At the very end of the walkway was the information archive. “There it is!” he said, and climbed up the steps. Halfway to the archive the captain realized he wasn't being followed and turned around.

Elizabeth had taken a few steps and stopped. Her face was pale and tears ran down her face. The telepath made small whimpering noises.

Greatly concerned, Renolds took off his backpack and walked back to her. “Elizabeth, there's something in this room, isn't there?”

Elizabeth shook her head, her tears increasing in intensity.

“Please, show me,” Renolds said. “I have to see.”

For a moment she did nothing. Then Elizabeth's cold, trembling hand reached toward him. The two of them clasped hands.

Bright light exploded in front of Renolds's eyes. He felt a brief second of pain in his forehead and suddenly, everything changed. One moment he was standing on the walkway, the next he was in a field. It was a bright sunny day. The start of autumn, judging by the leaves of a tree.

“This isn't real, captain,” Elizabeth whispered, standing next to him.

He realized she was right. There was no warmth coming from the sun, and as he took a small step forward, his boot echoed against metal. They were still on the Soulite station.

“What is this?” Renolds asked.

“They're trying to learn about us,” Elizabeth said. Still holding his hand, Elizabeth bent down and touched a golden plaque, moving away dead leaves. “This was where my brother was buried.”

“You had a family?” Renolds asked.

Elizabeth closed her eyes. “I did, but he died in the war. He had no rights ... being a telepath, too.” Tears fell to her cheeks. “I loved him so much. When he was buried, I was the only one here to say goodbye.”

The image changed again, and suddenly a dog was licking Elizabeth's startled hand. They were sitting in a dark living room in front of a Christmas tree. The telepath glanced up at Renolds. “This is from your mind. What you think about the most.”

“Yes,” Renolds replied. His voice was hoarse. “My grandchild was born on Christmas. He would have been six months this coming week.”

“I'm sorry,” Elizabeth said.

Renolds didn't meet her eyes. “More than anything I wanted...”

Bright light moved in front of them and in between them, burning his eyes. When they cleared, he was back on the walkway. But something was different. There were now faint whispers around him. Renolds listened closely, but couldn't understand what they were saying.

He wasn't alone. At the very end of the walkway, next to the door, was a Soulite. Its back was turned to him, and it was flickering. That was the best way Renolds could describe it. It was as though he were watching a television screen with bad resolution. Static covered the entire body of the Soulite, with brief flickers of gray. Renolds had never seen a Soulite like this before.

“Who are you?” it demanded, turning. The Soulite's voice gave a vibrant echo around the room.

Renolds quickly glanced at Elizabeth, but she wasn't there. He turned to face the Soulite. “I am Captain Renolds Osirus of the NAVA ship Vigilant. You asked to see me. Who are you?”

“I am an advocate,” it said in a booming voice. It was impossible to tell if the voice was male or female. Another flicker of static. “One of the rarities among our kind,” it continued in a normal voice that sounded more masculine. “I guard our Queen.”

“Queen?” Renolds echoed.

The Soulite turned slightly toward the chasm. “She's down there. Within the core of the station. All of us serve her. The Soulites are the race that governs this universe. Ancient. Powerful. We too, are telepathic.”

“Why did you attack Earth?” Renolds demanded.

“Very few people come here willingly. Where is Mark? We had invited him too.”

“He was indisposed,” Renolds said. Why did this Soulite's voice sound so familiar? “You didn't answer my question.”

For a moment there was only silence. The Soulite flickered again. “Was that your family we saw?” it asked.

“Yes.”

“What if we knew they had died in the attack? What if they died slowly? Would that make you upset, Captain?”

Renolds stared at the Soulite. “It might. Just a little,” he said angrily. “Why are you asking me these questions? Are you trying to keep me off balance?”

“Do you believe in God?” the Soulite asked instead.

“No,” Renolds said, getting frustrated. “NAVA proved that the concept of any kind of afterlife is impossible.”

“They lied to protect your feeble mind from the truth that awaited you. We have more in common than you know. We used to be human too. Then we died. Our spirits evolved into what you see now. This will happen to you when you die.”

“No, that's a lie!”

“Oh, is it?” The Soulite flickered one last time, and turned into something else. A man who was horribly familiar. In front of him stood Lieutenant Ordias, the engineer that had died in the last Soulite attack.

Ordias grinned. “Hey, Captain. Good to see you again.”

Renolds couldn't reply. It looked exactly like Lieutenant Ordias, right down to the NAVA uniform. “What are you doing here?”

“Do you remember those weekly injections NAVA used to give you to protect you from disease? It's a lie. They're the chemical compounds needed to create the Soulites. Usually, you're fine. But if you face some traumatic event like, say, death—a chain reaction starts and you become a Soulite.”

“I don't believe that.”

“Well, actually, NAVA did it by accident,” Ordias said with a grin. “You see, they figured after much experimentation, there really was no God, and no afterlife. So they decided to create gods. What they got instead were the Soulites. And every single person on Earth and the Vigilant has had the injection. By the time they realized what was happening, it was too late. You see, our bodies had become dependent on the injection. Damned if you do, damned if you don't. When there were enough Soulites, they eventually left Earth and traveled to this place. We set up our station here.” Ordias gestured around him “There is no happy place when you die, Captain Osirus. Just here. The core waits for you all. Your crew is with us. Now and forever. As each one of you dies, your soul becomes part of the core. Hence, the name that was given to us—Soulites.”

Renolds still couldn't reply. It felt like someone had punched him in the gut.

“I'm betting that you wish you never came here,” Ordias said.

“No,” Renolds whispered. “If we're the same, why did you attack us? And Earth?”

“Simple. We want you to die. We're just advancing evolution, Captain. Your race is nearing extinction. Soon it'll just be the Soulites in the universe. There's really no need to explain all of this. The longer you stay in our universe, the longer you will come to know our ways.”

“I've already seen your ways,” Renolds said harshly.

Ordias's eyes narrowed. “So you want to discuss a truce to return to NAVA space.”

“That's right.”

“There can be no truce. And since the Vigilant is here, we would really like you to stay.”

* * * *

Carl boarded the shuttle, never happier to be on it. “Powering all systems!” A glance at the sensor readings told him some bad news. “Captain Renolds's shuttle is still docked on the other side.”

“It's not in the plan to go after him. Take off,” Telsia ordered as she closed the hatch.

“All right.” Carl glanced at the scanner. “Hang on—I'm reading a build-up of power.”

* * * *

The core of the station flickered and then exploded with green power. Within seconds, thousands of Soulites crawled up from the bottom of the chasm. All of them had a purpose, and all of them went to the same destination.

Like locusts they swarmed the docking bay where Renolds had left the shuttle. They surrounded the craft and went through it, tearing apart little pieces at a time. On some invisible signal, they abruptly departed and left the docking bay empty.

For a few seconds the shuttle lay undisturbed. Then, it exploded.

* * * *

Mark paced the bridge. “Come on,” he whispered. “What's taking so long?”

Hannah consulted her readings. “Chief Engineer Davids and Lieutenant Commander Simmons are back on board,” she said quietly.

“What about Osirus?”

“Nothing yet,” Hannah replied. “Wait a minute. I'm reading a power reading from the Soulite Station ... Renolds's shuttle just exploded!”

“What?”

Hannah stared at him in horror. “The captain can't get back.”

For a moment Mark was indecisive. He could still hear Renolds's last conversation in the back of his mind. I thought you didn't care about anyone from NAVA.

Mark touched the intercom. “Shuttle Bay, prep shuttle two for re-launch. Chief Engineer Davids to the bridge.” He turned to leave.

Hannah stepped in front of him. “Sir, what are you doing?”

“I'm going to take the last shuttle to get them.”

“The captain gave you a direct order!” Hannah said, appalled. “You can't just disobey an order from the captain!'

“Please. I've been doing that since day one,” Mark said, brushing past the com officer. He entered the elevator. “Shuttle bay,” he said as the doors closed.

* * * *

“I'm curious about one thing,” Ordias admitted. “Why did NAVA send you here, Captain Osirus? Maybe you are just some loser no one cares about. On the other hand, you could be someone special. Maybe a threat to the Soulite race. In which case, it would be in our best interest for you to die.”

Renolds didn't say anything for a moment. “Why did you attack us?”

Ordias stepped toward him until they were almost eye-to-eye. “You still don't believe me,” he said. “After all this time, do you really doubt that NAVA is an evil organization?”

“It's not true.”

“The Resistance was made from good people who knew more about the workings of NAVA than you ever could. Everything that is good and true was what they represented. They knew that behind the great military shield of your organization was blood. Lots of it. And deep down, this is the same cause you're fighting for. It's what you are. You still have a choice. Surrender. Because this is only the beginning.”

Renolds backed away. “No.”

“This isn't a game. If you try to fight us your crew will die.” Ordias shrugged. “You want proof, here it is.”

A rush of jumbled images suddenly ran through Renolds's mind. Elizabeth lying on the bio-bed horribly burned and fighting for her life. Carl holding a weapon to the captain's head. Himself fighting two Soulites and begging Telsia for help. Finally, he saw himself on the Vigilant. The walls and floor were burning. Metal was twisting apart. That kind of damage meant it was seconds away from being destroyed. Renolds saw himself firing at Mark. At that range, he couldn't miss.

Renolds blinked, and just as suddenly, the visions cleared.

“Your people will know war. They will know grief. And finally, death. Is this the future you want for them?” Ordias asked. “And just what chance do you think you have anyway?”

Renolds couldn't reply. To his astonishment, Ordias disappeared. A split second later, the captain felt the older man's hands on his shoulders.

“We can move ten times faster than you. We know everything about you.” Ordias suddenly appeared nervous. “Beware the Queen.” With those last words, Ordias vanished.

Renolds whirled around as time resumed. He saw Elizabeth keel over, and made a grab for her. The captain caught her just before she hit the floor. “I've got you. Are you all right?”

“I'm okay,” Elizabeth said. “I'm just—”

Kill them.

Renolds and Elizabeth observed the room becoming five times brighter. A Soulite made entirely of pure white light floated in front of them. A piercing noise filled the room and began to burrow right into Renolds's brain, shattering his ability to think.

* * * *

In the medical wing of the Vigilant, Neilson sat in his office, alone. He recognized this for what it was, the calm before the storm. Soon the injured would occupy several rooms, and he didn't have the medical staff to treat them all. He knew he should maintain professional detachment, but he couldn't. Bleakly Neilson wondered what he had gotten himself into. With a sigh, the doctor glanced at his desk.

He froze. There was an envelope on his desk, with his name on it. Neilson opened it. Inside was a purple data crystal. Curiosity prompted him to place it in the data socket on his desk.

He was startled out of his life to see Admiral Yates appear to him in holographic form. “Hello, doctor. I have recorded this message in advance because I know that Earth will be attacked by the Soulites in a matter of hours. Yes, NAVA is aware of them, just as we are aware that you will soon be in their territory. By the time you watch this, I suppose you will have many questions. However, this data crystal only has a limited amount of memory so I'll get right to the point. I am authorizing you to take care of a very important crew member. I am sending detailed files along, along with certain guidelines. Make sure they are followed. I am also giving you proper authorization to terminate Marcus Collingway should any of these guidelines be breeched. If you find yourself squeamish in your duties, just remember who he really is.”

The admiral disappeared, and a holographic square appeared in front of him. For a moment the doctor saw the burning logo of NAVA, then a medical file of a human brain. Neilson was more than a little astonished to find two distinct brain wave patterns intertwined as one. “Two people...?” he whispered.

* * * *

The shuttle still needed a few minutes to refuel, which gave Mark an opportunity to try something that could be very dangerous.

G-deck was for the most part abandoned, and it was very dark. Even the emergency lights were off. Mark moved down the hall. It occurred to him, and not for the first time, that this was a bad idea. Still he pressed onward until he reached a lobby. The error messages from the windows provided some small illumination. Mark studied the moving red letters. So far, he didn't see anyone he was looking for. He turned around and ran straight into Myers.

The short telepath was staring at him with polite curiosity. “What do you want, murderer?”

Mark ignored the quip. “I need your help.”

To his credit, the telepath listened patiently. Once Mark was finished, Myers smirked. “No.”

“No?” Mark echoed.

“No, I'm not going to help you save the captain or this ship.” Myers's ivy-green eyes had a touch of mischief.

Mark bit his lower lip, trying to keep his temper in check. “You're part of this crew.”

“No more than you are. My first day here, your security chief shot me in the leg because she thought it was funny. Can you believe that? Our whole lives, we've been treated like slaves. Not anymore.”

Mark suddenly noticed several people joining them. Other telepaths, and they didn't look happy to see him. He thought fast. “What about Elizabeth? She's one of your own.”

Myers chuckled. “Our sister Elizabeth. We tried to warn her not to help you, but she didn't listen. Now she has to pay the price.”

Mark didn't reply, sensing a build-up of power around him. It was the same power one felt just before a thunderstorm. His hand went for his gun.

“The other telepaths and I are leaving,” Myers told him. “It's time we set out on our own. This space has increased our power. We want to see how much.”

“What about—”

“The Soulites?” Myers finished his sentence and shook his greasy head, still smiling. “The Soulites won't bother us. We're not the ones they're after.”

“I'll stop you from leaving,” Mark said.

It was a bold thing to say and had an instant effect. All the other telepaths tensed, and Mark could feel the storm ready to strike at any moment. There was every reason to believe the telepaths could kill him instantly just by stopping his heart or by making his brain explode with little more than a gesture. On the other hand, he wasn't the average person, and he might be able to kill at least one or two before that happened.

Myers lifted his hand, signaling the other telepaths to stop. “I think it is best we part ways now, Commander. It might not be safe for you to be around us. And it might not be safe for us to be around you.” The small telepath stepped toward him. “I can read all the minds of every single crew member, at once. Except for yours. But I know that terrible things are going to happen to the Vigilant, and you're a part of it.” He paused. “We're leaving now. All the telepaths, except for Lizzie, of course. Do send our regrets.”

“Where exactly are you going to go?” Mark demanded.

“We're going to make our own future. Better pray that it doesn't include anyone from here.”

Myers fell silent, and Mark decided that it might be a good idea to leave, after all. He backed away slowly. It was only when he reached the doorway that Myers spoke again.

“You really like her, don't you?” Myers asked. “Elizabeth. It's a bad idea. I can read her mind too. And guess what? You killed her brother in the war.” He chuckled. “Thought you should know before things get awkward.”

Mark didn't bother to reply as he left.

* * * *

The first officer's mood didn't improve in the slightest when he ran into Telsia just outside the shuttle bay.

“Commander,” Telsia greeted coldly.

“Lieutenant Commander,” Mark returned. He really didn't have a lot of experience with the security chief, but part of him still believed that she would slaughter him if she had half the chance. But now was not the time to confront her. If he had it his way, he would have left minutes ago.

“Rumor has it that you're going on a suicide mission to the Soulite base,” Telsia finally said. “Want some help?”

Mark raised an eyebrow. “You just came back from the Soulite base. Are you sure you're up for it?”

Telsia stared at him with cold eyes. “I know the layout of the place. You'll have a much better chance with my help. If you're really serious about saving the captain, that is.”

Mark glanced at her, but Telsia's face was perfectly serious. “And Elizabeth, too.”

“I'm going as well,” another voice said. Both of them turned to see Neilson walking toward them.

“What are you doing?” Telsia demanded.

“The captain or Elizabeth might be injured. If they are, you'll need my help,” Neilson said. He glanced at Mark, a tad nervously.

Mark wasn't sure how to put this. “Doc, I appreciate the gesture, but we have Soulite warships that are only minutes away from powering up.”

“Then I have a few minutes free,” Neilson snapped, his eyes filled with determination. “I still have a basic medical staff. They can take care of any casualties while I'm away.”

Telsia's eyes flicked back and forth between them, not agreeing or disagreeing.

“Commander, I know the situation better than you do. We're a crippled ship facing a shipyard of very powerful Soulite ships, not to mention a space station. If we don't leave soon, you're not going to need a doctor. You're going to need a miracle. And the longer you spend arguing with me, the less chance the Vigilant has.”

Mark knew he was right. “Fine.” He walked toward the shuttle bay.

* * * *

“Why are you doing this?” Telsia demanded as they followed Mark.

Neilson glanced at Telsia. “You were right, Telsia. I've been a coward all my life. In more ways than you'll ever know.”

He honestly couldn't tell if Telsia was impressed or not. “Just stay out of our way,” the security chief said.

Neilson watched her head toward the shuttle bay, and his entire body began to tremble with fear. He couldn't believe what he was doing either. Suddenly realizing that he was lagging behind, Neilson hurried to join them. He strapped himself into the shuttle as Mark started the launch sequence.

“Sir, we have multiple escape pods leaving the Vigilant,” Hannah reported. “We can easily pick them up again.”

Neilson watched as Mark paused. “No. Let them go.”

“Are you sure?” Hannah asked.

“Yeah. I'm sure,” Mark replied.

“Understood. Good hunting.”

“Ready?” Mark asked Telsia and Neilson.

“Yes.” Telsia glanced at Neilson. “By the way, have you ever been in a shuttle that has launched from the Vigilant?”

“No,” Neilson said. “Why—ulp!” The rest of his words were lost as the shuttle spun backward, and then detached. At first the shuttle floated as inertia took it out of the launch bay, then the engines fired up, and Neilson felt as if his body was melting backward into his seat.

“Are you all right? Telsia asked him.

“I think I'm going to lose my lunch.”

“Not on me,” Mark replied. “I'm having a bad enough day already.”

* * * *

A few minutes later, Mark landed the shuttle in a spare docking bay and set it on security mode. All three of them exited into a section of the station that seemed partly mechanical and partly organic. So far, Mark couldn't see anyone.

“No life signs detected,” Neilson remarked.

“That's hardly surprising, considering that the sensors couldn't register Soulites to begin with,” Telsia said.

“I don't see any Soulites,” Mark informed her.

Suddenly, all three of them froze as they heard whispering all around. Mark immediately took out his weapon, but he couldn't see anyone.

“The disgraced have come to visit us,” a voice said from everywhere. “A coward. A liar. And a betrayer. What do you hope to accomplish here? Do you want to save your captain? He is going to stay here forever. So are you three.”

“This place can be a bit unnerving,” Telsia added.

“Who are you?” Mark demanded angrily. “You said you wanted to talk to me, so talk to me!”

“We don't want to talk. We just want to kill you.”

Mark waited, but the voice didn't add anything else. “Right, that's very cheerful. Let's go.”

They exited out of the docking bay and walked down a gray hallway. Mark checked the scanner. They were still very far from the captain's signal. He glanced to the right, and stopped. “Something is strange about this place.”

“That just occurred to you now?” Telsia said with a snort.

“What is it?” Neilson asked.

In response, Mark wiped away the dust from a brass plaque next to the door, displaying the name Trevor Kenny in bold black letters. “Do Soulites really strike you as the type of aliens to have name tags on their doors?”

Without waiting for a reply, he entered the room. Inside were quarters not too different from the Vigilant. Mark could see a couch, a table with two glasses filled with some kind of red liquid, and a bookshelf. All of it was covered with dust. He picked up a yellow paper that had a cartoon drawing of two stick people. On the top, scrawled in purple crayon, were the words To Mom and Dad, Love Sally.

“We really shouldn't be sight-seeing,” Telsia's cold voice sounded behind him.

“Does this look like the Soulites to you?” Mark asked her.

“Maybe this was originally a humanoid base, and then the Soulites took over,” Neilson suggested, surveying the dark room.

“We didn't detect any life forms on the station,” Telsia stated.

“Could have been hundreds of years ago,” Mark said, and it did seem likely judging by the dust everywhere. He frowned as he noticed Neilson touching the gray wall. “What is it?”

“Dunno,” Neilson said, stepping back. “This wall just feels really warm.”

Suddenly, the wall exploded. Furniture flew everywhere. Mark dodged a flying piece of shrapnel that narrowly missed his head. When he looked up next, there was a massive hole in the wall, and Neilson was gone. He bent down next to Telsia, who was lying on the carpet.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes,” Telsia said, brushing away his attempt to help her up. “He's gone.”

Mark immediately tried the radio. “Neilson, come in.” They heard static only. Swearing, Mark took out his scanner. Neilson's signal was already halfway across the deck. In the opposite direction of the captain's signal. “Great. Just great.” He took a step toward Neilson's location, but Telsia stopped him with a hand to his shoulder.

“No,” Telsia said quietly. “This is where we split up. You track down the captain. I'll handle this.”

“It doesn't take a genius to figure out that this is exactly what the Soulites want,” Mark said.

“Which doesn't change the fact that we still have to do it. But if it's any consolation, I'm pretty sure a mass-murderer like you can handle himself.”

“I was more worried about you, actually.”

“How touching,” Telsia said dryly.

With a shake of his head Mark turned away.

“I know why you're doing this,” Telsia said suddenly. “I know your secret. It's nice that you're trying to rescue the captain, but afterward, you and I have unfinished business.”

Mark met her eyes without expression. “Meet you back at the shuttle.”

* * * *

“Ugh!” Neilson said as he opened his eyes. He was lying in a hallway with no clear memory of how he got there. The last thing he remembered was the wall exploding, and being propelled by some unknown force. Then, nothing.

Neilson struggled to his feet and tried the radio. After a few seconds of static he glanced around. “Okay, this is f-freaky.”

Physically, he was unharmed, but he really wanted to be with Mark and Telsia again. He checked his scanner. The blip that belonged to Mark was walking away from him, but Telsia was coming toward him. “Okay, help is on the w-way. A-all I have to do is stay here.”

Suddenly Neilson heard a growl. He wasn't sure what it was, but his imagination could easily picture some huge creature mashing its teeth together. “Or not.”

He quickly left the hallway and entered the first room on the right. As soon as Neilson opened the doors he was horrified by what he saw. There were at least twenty people lined against the wall with various tubes running up their arms and back. It was the same kind of feeding area that Mark and Carl had described seeing on the wrecked vessel. He wanted to shut the doors, but the scientist in him made him step closer instead. A lot of the people appeared strangely humanoid. Perhaps they were the original inhabitants of the station. All of them were slumped backward against the wall.

Neilson walked over to the second one on the right and studied him—an emaciated thirty-year-old man. For all intents and purposes, the man might as well be dead. His face was far too pale, his brown hair stringy, and his breathing short and shallow.

Experimentally, Neilson touched him, and to his amazement the man's blue eyes flicked open. His breathing became heavier, and he tried to lift his head. Apparently the effort became too much, for he dropped his head again and closed his eyes.

Suddenly the lights above the bodies flicked off, one after another. Startled, Neilson stepped back.

Creator. Destroyer.

The outlines of the victims stood and pointed at Neilson. He was surrounded by them.

“No,” Neilson said, and pressed his hands against his head. “No, no, no, this is not real.”

Creator. Destroyer.

Neilson closed his eyes...

Even at age seven his genius was noticeable. NAVA quickly tore him from his home and the family he briefly knew. They trained him to be a scientist. Neilson had been determined to be the best anyone had ever known.

At age fifteen he had already experimented on his first subject. Afterward, the man in question spent the rest of his life strapped down on a table with drool coming out of his mouth. NAVA had assured him that this was perfectly normal.

At age seventeen he discovered his other passion: botany. Interesting, his superiors had said. But it was nothing that special. Nothing to write to home about, as the saying went. Not that he would write to his family. By this time he was experimenting and killing people on a daily basis.

At age twenty-one he had created a serum to make a super human, one who could potentially live forever and have extraordinarily high telepathic abilities. He tested it on a young woman, and the results were horrible.

NAVA said they would work on it.

He was starting to slow down and do things outside of NAVA at age twenty-three. He went to parties and took long walks at night. He enjoyed the latter more, because he felt awkward around people. Neilson had only known people to praise him, not socialize with him.

It was during one of those midnight walks that he met Cathy, a beautiful woman who loved flowers. Even better, she understood what he did and forgave him for it. Despite this, NAVA was not pleased with her.

At age twenty-seven Cindy had given birth to a boy and Neilson decided that it was time to quit NAVA science corp. After all, he had given these people twenty years of his life. Could he really be expected to give more?

Yes, NAVA argued. Because they had already started to distribute the virus secretly to the population, in the form of vitamins. And because they had raided his house last night and kidnapped Cathy and his son.

Dozens of memories, each more horrifying than the last, crashed within his skull. Tears fell from Neilson's eyes. “No, please, no...”

The silhouettes reached for him.

* * * *

Mark entered what looked like an empty room with a soggy floor. Cursing, he suddenly realized that he was on the wrong level. The power source was just below him.

He didn't have time to delay. With the aid of a blow-torch, the first officer slowly cut into the flesh of the ship, trying not to be sickened by the fact that red blood oozed near his feet. He burned a circle and watched it drop. He could see nothing but darkness through the hole as he peered down into it. Mark took no chances. He lit a flare and watched it fall. It plunged for almost ten seconds before sputtering into liquid. Safe enough.

He jumped down the hole into waist-deep water. As soon as he landed, the water seemed to take on a life of its own and glowed with a soft blue light. Electric currents extended from Mark and shot off into the darkness. Mark lifted his hand, watching the light dance between his fingers. Surprisingly, it did no damage. The first officer lowered his hand and looked up.

Directly in front of him was a triangular structure, branching out to the walls like a tree. It spanned for several kilometers in every direction. Mark stepped closer. Like everything else, it appeared to be organic with red veins marbling its dark blue skin. He touched it cautiously, and it felt soft against his fingertips. Mark took out his scanner. Power was being regulated throughout the entire station by this. Mark flicked the scanner off and reached into his backpack. He took out a C4 explosive, and some packing tape.

Might as well do some damage while he was here.

* * * *

The ship pitched violently. Carl managed to grab the railing just in time. Other people weren't so lucky and were hurled to the floor.

Hannah consulted the scanner. “One Soulite ship has powered up ahead of the others! It's making another pass!”

The ship trembled again, but not as bad as the first time. Carl stared at the view screen, and took his first glance at the actual ship. Instantly, he found it in the Soulite archive.

“This is a warrior class, very powerful. It has shields, weapons capable of going straight through our hull, and we have nothing.”

“Do we have a plan, sir?”

“Not really. Not against this.” Carl said as he keyed in a sequence to take evasive maneuvers.

“Sir!” Hannah called.

The Soulite ship fired three dark green energy blasts toward the bridge.

The next thing Carl saw was fire.

[Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter 23

Elizabeth felt the Soulite burrowing into her brain, and there was nothing she could do. It was her worst fears come true—the Soulite was just too powerful. Pain drilled through her consciousness, overriding everything else. The telepath fell to the walkway, unable to do anything but stare at her hand.

She was sure that somewhere on the Vigilant, Myers was laughing at her. She was only a class three telepath, after all. Obviously not strong enough. He really was an asshole. The brief surge of anger was enough to temporarily free her mind, giving her a chance to look up at the gray Soulite trying to kill them. Anger flared in her again at the whole situation. This time, she was mad at herself. They were going to die, and it was because she wasn't strong enough.

The Soulite suddenly yelped as though in pain. Elizabeth felt its hold on her start to weaken, enough for her to struggle to her knees. Perhaps anger was the key, after all. And she had plenty to be angry about.

Like a lightning bolt, Elizabeth focused all of her rage on the Soulite. The alien no longer yelped—it screamed. As she watched, smoke actually burned on its gray skin.

“You're just human,” Elizabeth whispered.

A second later, the Soulite was engulfed in fire. It twisted and flew toward the ceiling, before finally disintegrating into ash.

* * * *

Renolds watched this in astonishment, and suddenly realized that there was someone behind him. Mark was also staring at Elizabeth.

“I thought you were supposed to be on the ship!” Renolds snapped.

“Yeah, well, that was before your shuttle blew up,” Mark said. “I've got the last one.”

The room suddenly trembled. Dust rained from the ceiling and the walkway creaked noisily. Below them was an unknown abyss. Before the captain could take another step the station quaked again, even worse than before.

Renolds's radio beeped, and he turned it on. “What's happening up there?”

“We're under attack again,” Carl reported. “Another ship, this one much more powerful than the last we encountered. We can't outrun it.” There was a long, rather pregnant pause. “And the bridge is going to need one or two little repairs.”

“Understood. We're heading back to the shuttle now.” Renolds turned off his radio and gestured with his head. “Come on!”

You won't get far.

Renolds could hear Ordias's voice in his head, and apparently so could Mark and Elizabeth, as they both turned around.

Suddenly Elizabeth gave a strangled cry. Mark gripped her shoulder hard. They were both staring at a corner in the archive room.

“What? What do you both see?” Renolds demanded, seeing nothing.

“You really don't want to know,” Mark said.

Renolds knew that now would be a good time to leave this room. He punched Mark in the shoulder. “Come on!” All three broke into a run back toward the doorway.

Elizabeth made it out first. Mark was about to follow, when he suddenly turned around. His eyes widened, seeing something that Renolds couldn't. “Get back!” He grabbed the captain's arm and hurled him out of the doorway. The door suddenly slammed shut between him and Mark, trapping the first officer in the room. A second later the door glowed with a burning red light.

“Dammit!” Renolds said. He pressed the button and received only a beep as an answer. He tried to pry open the door, with no success.

* * * *

When Carl said that the bridge needed a few minor repairs, he had been lying to save Renolds some bad news. Actually, the bridge was hanging by a thread. Most of the controls were demolished. The view screen was cracked but had not depressurized. If it did, they would be dead in seconds.

As it was, Carl doubted they could survive another hit. Still, his voice was calm and free of panic. “Evacuate decks fourteen to forty-eight, seal them off and transfer life-support to shields.” He downloaded the archive into the main computer and stared at a map of the warrior class. “NAVA weaponry could work against the Soulite's ship. One good hit would cripple them, or worse.”

Hannah joined him. “But sir, we don't have weapons. And the amount of power we would need for just one shot...” She let the thought trail off.

Carl immediately headed for the elevator. “Daniels, you have the bridge.”

Hannah's face turned white. “Me, sir? But I don't know how to run a ship!”

And you think I did? Carl stepped toward her. “Right, then. Here's a full tutorial. Avoid the things firing at you. Try to save the captain if you see him, and if all else fails, take out the Soulite ship in the final explosion! This ship practically drives itself.” He ran to the elevator. “Watch for my signal!”

“Signal? But sir, what signal?” was the last thing he heard from Hannah.

[Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter 24

Mark was glad Renolds had not seen the Soulite. It would have killed whatever courage the captain still had left. As it was, Mark was not even sure he could take it. The first blast had almost killed him. Standing in front of him was a Soulite made entirely of fire. It stared at Mark with eyes full of hatred. Ready to kill.

He was trapped with no way out. The air was so hot he could barely breathe. The Soulite burned so brightly that it hurt his eyes to look directly at it. Mark couldn't see any way to get out of this alive.

For a second, the thought gave him relief.

Then, the Soulite lunged at him. It slammed Mark against the door and grabbed him by the arm. A second later, the door started to drip paint. Mark could feel random blisters growing over his body. But that was nothing compared to what was happening to his arm. The Soulite's hand wrapped around his sleeve, burning it away in seconds. His skin sizzled. Mark bit back a scream and his gun dropped to the metal grating.

The station rocked violently, and the empty abyss under the walkway lit up with flames. Mark didn't know how the fire started, and at this point he didn't care. All he could concentrate on was the Soulite breathing down his neck. He lashed out with his boot, fully meaning to kick the Soulite away. But things didn't quite happen that way.

Mark's boot passed through nothing, as though he was kicking flame instead of substance. But the moment he tried to withdraw his foot, he found it was trapped inside the Soulite's chest.

The skin on his arm started to blacken.

Through the fire Mark could see the Soulite grin, and it slammed its free hand against Mark's face with enough force to almost break his neck. Mark reeled back, an angry red welt already forming on his face. Snarling, Mark grabbed the knife from his belt and plunged it deep into the Soulite's chest.

Mark watched in amazement as the blade melted. With a noise that was either a shriek or a laugh, the Soulite suddenly threw him like a rag doll. Mark was hurled backward, and he slammed his head against the wall behind him. He fell to the metal grating, already knocked out cold. The first officer was not aware of the room violently shaking, or of the walkway breaking apart underneath him.

* * * *

Renolds spent a few more seconds trying to open the door without any success. It burned to the touch. A sudden thought made him turn to face Elizabeth. The telepath was sitting on the ground, staring at nothing. When he knelt by her, she jumped.

“Elizabeth, Mark may be dying in there. I need you to open that door!”

But the telepath shook her head. “I can't,” she whispered. “You don't know what it's like to be here, sir. It's a struggle to even keep my sanity.”

“I thought you said you couldn't feel anything.”

“That was before. But now ... Whatever was keeping the station in check is now released. We woke something up, Captain.” Elizabeth took in a deep breath. “We can make it to the shuttle. I know where it is. There's still a chance for the two of us.”

For the longest time Renolds did nothing. It was very quiet in the passageway. A few weeks ago, the captain lived happily in a world of structured order. He believed that boots should be neatly polished, that suits should be crisp and perfect, and that uniforms should be as neatly pressed as possible and buttoned properly. He also believed firmly in the chain of command and of the military life in general, and the principles which held them all together. Most of all, he believed in NAVA.

Two minutes after first meeting Mark, all of those things had been thrown out of the window and never came back. But despite everything, Renolds still believed that Mark was wrong.

And he was about to prove it.

Elizabeth stared pleadingly at him. “Sir, we can run. We can make it.”

“Listen to me,” Renolds said. “We need to get that door open, and you're the only person who can do it. I know how strong you are, Elizabeth. You saved me,” he added. “You don't have to be scared. We're not going to be afraid of these monsters anymore.”

Renolds offered his hand, and Elizabeth reluctantly took it. He helped her stand up.

A sudden shriek made them glance to the left. “If it comes down to it, I'll try and hold them off,” Renolds said. “You just concentrate on getting that door open.”

Elizabeth nodded. “Yes, sir.”

[Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter 25

Telsia entered a room that appeared to be a storage area. The first level was filled with cardboard boxes, mostly dry food. The second level consisted only of a metal walkway which led to a maintenance room. After some hesitation, she climbed up the metal steps.

Something was very wrong. There was only one time before when she had felt this way. It was the same feeling when her previous crew had died, and she was left alone on the Vigilant. After she had collapsed in the hallway, there had been a flash of bright light. And in that moment, Telsia could feel them around her. The Soulites. “I know you're here,” she said.

No response, but Telsia swallowed nervously. She knew she was right.

Suddenly, the security chief noticed a shadowed figure at the end of the walkway with its back turned to her. The Soulite was covered in static and flickering. As she watched, it turned around to face her, but did not make any advancing moves. After thirty tense seconds of waiting, Telsia backed away slowly, keeping it within view. It was only when she was close enough to the maintenance shaft did she break into a run.

Telsia closed and locked the door behind her. A wall exploded, cutting her skin and face with shards of metal. When the smoke cleared, Telsia could see a man stepping out of the rubble. A man who should be dead.

“Hi, Telsia,” Ordias said.

* * * *

Everyone in the universe thought telepathy was a disease, including most of the telepaths. Deep down, Elizabeth shared the same opinion. She had a problem and deserved whatever treatment she got. Entering someone's mind hurt her every time. Right now the Soulites’ attacks on her psyche had left her a shadow of herself. She didn't want to be here. Not anymore.

In the next room was a man who killed her only family. She knew he had just gotten his brains smashed against the wall, was unconscious and would probably die within the next few seconds. So why should she lift a finger to help him?

Elizabeth sighed. Because it just wasn't in her nature. And after everything she and Mark had been through, there was something between them, something she couldn't understand.

Renolds smiled at her encouragingly. From his spirit, she felt courage and hope. From him, she believed in hope, too. She glanced at the door. Despite everything he might say to the contrary, Mark shared the same belief. That feeling connected the three of them. It also finalized her decision.

Her hands touched the metal of the door. It should have felt cold, but it was hot, almost to the point of burning. Elizabeth closed her eyes and reached out with her senses. When she opened her eyes again, she could see actual lines of energy; see and influence them. She glanced at her hand and noticed it was glowing with purple light from her own heat signature. The telepath touched the lines, not afraid of her power and not surprised to see them shift before her touch. If she were a little stronger, she might be able to get Renolds and herself out of this. Right now, it was impossible for her to do so.

Elizabeth decided to try something small and wrapped a line around one of her fingers. It felt pleasant to her skin. She gave a small tug and the door jerked open a little. Even though everything else was a dark blue to her, she felt a steady hand on her shoulder. Renolds. This time, her entire hand gripped the threads of ... what? Energy? Reality? No time to dwell on that now. She yanked with all of her strength this time. This time the door slammed open in a shower of sparks.

She disposed of the Soulite, much as she had with the last one, and watched in satisfaction as it disintegrated. At that very second, the last support wire snapped on the broken walkway. Elizabeth was ready for it. She stretched out her right hand, and the walkway stopped its descent. The telepath felt strangely giddy. Who knew what else she was capable of?

Mark scrambled to his feet and was a little startled to find he was being supported by thin air. “Are you doing this?” he asked.

Elizabeth shook her head, a rare flash of anger making her cheeks burn. “I'm not sure why I'm saving you. Do you even know that you killed my brother?”

“Yep,” Mark said. “Myers gave me a subtle hint before I left.”

He obviously wasn't surprised, but Elizabeth was shocked by the lack of sympathy in his voice. “You ruined my life, and you're not even sorry?”

“Not really, no,” Mark said, meeting her eyes. “Because you ruined my life that day too.”

Renolds glanced at both of them. “What are you two talking about?”

Mark glanced at him. “You were right about one thing, Renolds. I shouldn't be here. I should have died years ago. That's the way it was supposed to happen. We lost the war. I stood there on a hilltop. There were hundreds of soldiers around me. They were going to kill me. So I beat them to it. I took out the gun from my pocket and lifted it to my head. That day, all I had to do was pull the trigger.” Mark's face was full of bitterness. “It was okay. Because dying was better than anything NAVA had planned. It still is.”

“And then what?” Renolds asked.

“Something got into my head and stopped me. A loud humming. At the time I wasn't sure what it was. But now I know.” He glared at Elizabeth.

Elizabeth said nothing. She had a good idea what happened.

“Telepaths,” Renolds whispered.

Mark nodded. “It was them! I should have died that day. I wanted to die! But they stopped me!”

Elizabeth recoiled visibly.

The first officer lifted his head. “NAVA needed me. They wanted a mouthpiece for NAVA, someone to crush the morale of the Resistance once and for all. And I did it. First it was little things ... leading key members who were still alive into ambushes. With my help NAVA killed whatever chance the Resistance still had left. But it wasn't me. With the aid of telepathy and NAVA technology, they put a program in my head. They created another personality and put it over my real one. The one that I have now.”

Judging by his face, Renolds didn't comprehend.

Mark glared at him. “Don't you get it, Renolds? It's not really me! I can feel the real me locked inside this program, trying to get out. Everything that I feel right now, everything I think—it's a lie! And one day, when the program is deactivated, the real me will come out.”

“You can't know that!” Renolds shouted.

“I know!” Mark bellowed as the station shuddered again. “All of this happening right now, it doesn't make a difference. When the real me comes out, the first thing he's going to do is kill you all. I killed thousands of people instantly. I can easily do it again. That's why telepaths ruined my life.”

Elizabeth couldn't say anything. No wonder he could block her mind so easily. There were two personalities in his head, and one of them would love to kill her. She suddenly felt ashamed. The telepaths were treated like slaves, but maybe that was a good thing. They were capable of so many terrible things. Who knows what they could do if left unchecked? She looked up at Mark. “I'm sorry.”

Mark's eyes were empty. “So you see this has to end here. If you have any chance against the Soulites, I can't let NAVA stop you.” He slowly glanced at the fires below him. “Maybe even after all this time, I can still do the right thing.”

“Shit,” Renolds whispered, almost inaudible. “Mark, don't you even think about it—Goddamnit that is a direct order! Do you understand me?”

Startled, Mark looked up at him.

“Listen to me, please. Both of you. About ten minutes ago I met the Soulites. They told me it was hopeless. That once we die, we're going to change into them. They said there was no point in fighting, because we were fighting a future that had already been predestined. You know what I say to that? Bullshit. I say that all three of us can fight for a better future.”

Mark didn't say anything.

“I'm the captain. I'm responsible for every single member of my crew.” Renolds swallowed. “I need you, Commander. Goodness help me, I happen to need you on this mission. I promise you, we will handle this problem when we come to it. But if and when we die today, it will not be of our choosing! Do you understand me?”

Mark said nothing for a moment. Finally he nodded.

“Okay, Elizabeth,” Renolds said.

Elizabeth suddenly froze. She looked horrified. “We can't go back to the shuttle.”

“What?”

“I just did a quick scan of the area. There are a thousand Soulites between us and the shuttle.”

* * * *

Over the years, NAVA had made cigarettes so addictive that no one had ever successfully broken free of them. And right now, Telsia really craved one.

Weapon drawn, she entered a room that was pitch-black. It was impossible to see anything. As soon as the wall exploded, the security chief expected a brutal attack. Instead, Ordias had disappeared. Telsia followed him as best as she could, but couldn't see him anywhere. “Where are you?”

“I don't want to fight you, Telsia,” Ordias said, and suddenly appeared in front of her.

She aimed her gun.

“Let's not fight,” Ordias said, raising his hands and stepping back slowly. “There's no reason to. You can't win. Even if you killed me now, all you would do is send my spirit back to the core. Which is where your friends are approaching right now. Trust me, they're not going to make it out of that one.”

She lifted her gun and approached him. “We'll see about that.”

Ordias took another step back. In the darkness, her eyes strained to make out his shape again. “I'm not here to fight,” he said. “I'm here to make an offer. Just for you.”

“Not interested.”

Ordias gave her a patient look. “Telsia, think about this for a second. Nobody on the Vigilant trusts or even likes you. To the Soulites, you're more important than anyone here. We want to help you. Come with me, please.”

Telsia pulled back the trigger. The bullet went through his body ... and did absolutely nothing.

“Bullets can't harm me, Telsia. You used to know me. I'm telling you the truth, I swear it. Trust me, you don't want to stay on the Vigilant.” Ordias smiled and extended his hand. “I can help you.”

* * * *

As soon as Neilson entered the storage area, he knew Telsia was in trouble. It had taken him mere seconds to escape the room with the trapped people, only to find it empty when he had the courage to glance behind him. Perhaps the Soulites were toying with his mind too. He wasn't sure.

The doctor had spent a couple of minutes wandering aimlessly in the station before hearing Telsia's voice, followed by a loud explosion.

Did she even know he was here? No, of course not. Neilson felt a tad annoyed by this, before realizing that the security chief was only moments from death. Even in the dim light, Neilson could see a large chasm in front of Telsia's feet.

“Telsia, look out!” Neilson warned.

But she didn't pay attention to him. Her attention was fixed solely on Ordias, who appeared to be goading her forward.

Neilson tried to speak, but fear clogged his throat. “Tels...”

I've been a coward all my life. I don't know what to do.

* * * *

“Come closer,” Ordias said.

Telsia didn't move a muscle. She just stared at him.

“Seriously, Telsia, why do you want to even save them? They all hate you. Of course, killing the previous crew including the captain probably didn't inspire much faith in your abilities to begin with.”

In response, Telsia pulled the trigger again, with no result.

“Your weapon won't work on me, or any other Soulite.” Ordias held out his hand. “Telsia, I promise that I will give you all the answers you need. Come with me. Leave all of this behind.”

Before she could reply, something hit the back of her head. She turned around, surprised, as a flashlight clunked to the ground. Neilson shouted something at her, but she hadn't even noticed him until now. “What?”

“Watch your step! There's a chasm right in front of you!” Neilson warned.

The security chief turned around in shock and saw that Ordias was gone.

“Are you okay?” Neilson asked, running up to her.

“Yes.” She hadn't realized until now how close to death she was. “Yes.”

“Good,” Neilson said. “So I saved you. Are you impressed now?”

Telsia smirked. “You threw a flashlight at me. I'm not even a little impressed. We should get back to the shuttle.”

“Right.” The scanner on Neilson's belt beeped. He took it out and released a deep breath.

“What is it?” she asked.

“It's a power reading.” Neilson said. “Several power readings. Some of them I can't even recognize.”

“Your stutter's gone,” Telsia remarked.

Neilson glanced at her. “Yeah, I guess it is.” He glanced once at the chasm. “Is he really dead? Ordias, I mean?”

Telsia followed his gaze. “I don't know,” she admitted.

“Well, the signal's not far from here,” Neilson said. “It wouldn't hurt for us to take a look.”

This time the security chief was indeed a little impressed. “Why not?”

* * * *

As Renolds, Elizabeth and Mark made their way back to the shuttle, Renolds suddenly stopped. In front of him was a massive chasm. He could see nothing except for a soft green light, which plummeted hundreds of miles below. A small and very narrow ledge led around the chasm. He was certain he heard a drumming sound in the far distance. The captain stepped closer.

Elizabeth gripped his shoulder, her face in pain. “No.”

“All right,” Renolds said. “Let's go back the way we came.”

They turned back. Renolds suddenly grabbed Elizabeth and hauled her backward. A startled shriek went past her lips as the cavern behind them collapsed. Renolds protected her with his own body, closing his eyes to fight against the despair that threatened to choke him.

When the dust cleared, Renolds stood. Their way back was now completely cut off.

“Is this our only way?” Mark asked.

Renolds nodded. “Seems like,” he said, coughing to clear the dust out of his lungs. He started on the narrow trail, moving along the edge, gripping the wall for support. Elizabeth and Mark quickly followed.

It was not easy rimming the chasm. There was only just enough room to put their feet down and barely any handholds to keep from falling. The group slowly inched their way forward. Soon they were all covered with dirt and grime.

“What do you see, Mark?” Renolds asked as the first officer glanced down.

“Depends. If I told you that there were thousands of those things down there just waiting for us, would you freak out?” Mark asked.

“Never mind, then,” Renolds replied. It took all of his courage to keep moving. Unfortunately they were moving very slowly. His palms were already coated with a layer of sweat from the heat. He glanced to the left and saw that Elizabeth and Mark were having the same difficulty.

It was at that point that he knew they would never make it across safely. As if in answer to his thoughts, the light below them flared once and grew even brighter. It burned his irises to even look down, but he did anyway.

That's when the whispering started. Whispering that could be heard above the noise of the drums. The Soulites were calling to him, overriding his other senses. For one terrible moment, he wanted to go over the edge. All of a sudden, he saw Elizabeth's eyes roll up in her head as she pitched forward.

“No!” Renolds began, but Mark reacted first. He grabbed Elizabeth by the shoulders. The edge was too narrow to put her feet down. Renolds's hand stretched out across Mark's right shoulder, preventing both from falling.

“This is going to be fun,” Mark said. “Renolds, I can't take us both across.”

Below them, the strange drum beats continued.

“Any bright ideas?” Mark asked, a tad sarcastically.

“Just one. You hold onto Elizabeth. I make sure you don't fall, and we'll go across as quickly as we can.”

Mark nodded, sweat already forming on his brow. Renolds's arm trembled from the strain. They moved very slowly. It felt like hours, when in reality it was only minutes. Mark took in a deep, rasping breath. Whisperings from the bottom of the core called out to him, they urged him to drop Elizabeth. So far he had been able to ignore it. His uniform was plastered to his skin, and his body was shaking. They were three quarters of the way there.

Just let her go ... the voices whispered.

Let her go...

Below, the green light increased. Renolds thought that it was a very good idea not to stare at it.

Elizabeth stirred. She opened her eyes and stared at the light. She then screamed an ear-shattering scream.

Mark's eyes closed.

Let her...

He released her, and they both fell out of Renolds's arm into the abyss below.

* * * *

As soon as Neilson opened the door, the entire room came alive with different voices. Most of it he couldn't even begin to understand. Some of the sounds were twittering, like birds. Other noises were just constant beeping. But there were voices mixed into the noise, in different languages. All of the voices had the same tone—desperation.

The lights came on, and they were in a command center not unlike the Vigilant's bridge. The entire area was covered with dust and cobwebs. A single skeleton sat in a chair to their right. Telsia observed the room a bit nervously.

Neilson walked toward one of the consoles and experimentally touched a button. The noise didn't stop, unfortunately, but the volume was significantly reduced. Now they were able to talk.

“What is this room?” Telsia asked.

“Maybe this was a communications station before it was taken over by the Soulites,” Neilson suggested. He strained to listen, and he could pick up one or two voices that were both human and English. “It's the same message over and over again.”

“—if anyone can receive this transmission, please, help us. We only have a few days of supplies left. The Soulites are going to make another pass and destroy the last of us. If anyone can receive this transmission..."

Another voice came on. “If you help our colony, we have significant resources to accommodate your time."

There was a burst of static, followed by another voice. “I'm the last one left on the ship. Please, remember our history.”

“Distress calls,” Telsia said. “All of them.”

Neilson ignored her. He stepped over to one console.

“—repeat, this is Chief Engineer Jasper Malrony. Nine years ago, our crew had to abandon our ship, the Vigilant, after a Soulite attack. We have since taken up permanent residence on a small moon, and our resources are running low. We know a way—”

The rest of the message was garbled, and Neilson couldn't understand it. “Oh my God,” he whispered.

Telsia silently joined him as the message repeated. “This message is nine years old. They must have sent it just after they abandoned ship.”

“There are coordinates enclosed,” Neilson said. “There's a chance they could still be alive.”

“Nine years with no resources? Unlikely,” Telsia said, but something in her voice was hesitant.

Unconsciously, Neilson put a hand on her shoulder as they listened to the same message, again and again. “And if they are...” he said, but didn't finish the thought.

[Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter 26

“No!” Renolds shouted. He grabbed Mark's arm just as the first officer fell. The pain from Mark's severely burned wrist penetrated through his daze. With a gasp, he lashed out blindly and with one hand grabbed Elizabeth's forearm. She rebounded sharply against the wall, cutting her forehead.

Renolds gritted his teeth. He couldn't pull them up. It was too much. Looking down, he could see nothing but green light. It threatened to envelope Elizabeth completely. A hidden instinct told Renolds that if any of the green light touched her, very bad things would happen. Trouble was, Mark's grip on his hand was already slipping.

The chasm trembled. Renolds could see rocks tumbling down toward them. One narrowly missed his head. The captain closed his eyes, not able to see, he could feel the Soulites all around him. For the first time, a voice entered his mind. Let them both drop.

“Not in a thousand years,” Renolds replied to no one in particular. “Mark, wake her up!”

“Elizabeth!” Mark shouted.

“Elizabeth!” Renolds added.

Elizabeth's large eyes opened blankly as she stared into the green void.

Mark gave a small kick to her side. “Snap out of it!” he ordered.

Renolds looked down. Tears started to gather in his eyes from the strain of the brightness. His vision swam in and out of focus. The voices were no longer whispering, they were screaming in his head. Let go, let go, let go! The captain closed his eyes.

Mark dropped Elizabeth. With a short cry she reached for the rock and grasped it, only sliding a little bit. For Renolds, it was all he needed.

With a sharp yell, Renolds hauled Mark up. Mark leaned against the rock face taking in breaking gasps. Free of his weight, Renolds knew that it shouldn't be a problem to grab Elizabeth. “Give me your hand!”

Grasping the rock wall desperately, Elizabeth climbed up and slowly lifted her hand. Renolds reached closer and grabbed it. Before Renolds could pull her out of danger, the green light touched her boot. Instantly Elizabeth's hand almost jerked free of Renolds's grip. He glanced down and saw coils of light wrapping around her foot, pulling her down. Try as he might, he couldn't free her. The intensity of the green light was building, and it took all of his strength to hold onto his sanity. “Mark, I need some help here!”

Mark joined him and between the two of them, they were able to haul Elizabeth upward. The telepath let out a choked gasp as she scrambled up the rock wall.

“Come on, let's go!” Renolds snapped.

They crossed the chasm and entered the metallic part of the space station. All three of them ran for their lives. It was Mark who found the door first. He pulled on the handle without any success. “It's locked!” he called out. “With a key code command!” The first officer tried a few random combinations without any success.

“Oh, get out of my way!” Elizabeth snapped, shoving them aside. She was apparently unaware of a powerful force slamming Renolds and Mark in opposite directions against the wall. All that mattered was getting the door open. The telepath placed her hand on the control panel, and the numbers fired rapidly in multiple sequences. The control panel exploded and the door unlocked. Elizabeth used her telekinetic power to rip the door off its hinges. As Mark and Renolds gazed in astonishment, Elizabeth stepped through.

They raced down the narrow hall. They could see the shuttle just ahead in the massive chamber. The Soulites followed behind them, and conduits exploded one after the other in their wake. The three of them entered the massive chamber housing the shuttle. Unfortunately, the shuttle was still at least three hundred meters away. They made it halfway when all three of them jerked to a halt.

A black cloud approached. In the darkness ahead they could see the red eyes of thousands of Soulites. Out of habit Mark took out his gun, unsure which target to aim for. There were so many.

“You're going to die...” a voice whispered all around them.

Mark felt something touch his hand. Glancing to his right, he saw Elizabeth twining her fingers with his. Her eyes were afraid.

He gave her a reassuring squeeze, then glanced up just as a Soulite flew at her. Without hesitation, he aimed his gun and fired at the Soulite, knowing, at the same time, that there was a Soulite behind him as well. Mark felt a terrifying cold, and realized he had accomplished nothing. The Soulite he shot disappeared, only to be replaced by another within seconds. The last thing Mark heard was Elizabeth screaming in terror as she was consumed.

* * * *

Renolds could see Mark and Elizabeth enveloped by a dark cloud of energy. Then, the darkness consumed him too. At first, Renolds couldn't breathe. He felt his heart quicken as his mind tried to process a thousand thoughts. There was a sudden flash of light, and it blinded him. He heard a startled shriek.

When his eyes cleared, he saw the Soulites only millimeters from his body, floating but not actually touching him. Renolds drew in a few shallow, grateful breaths. A Soulite floated right in front of him, green eyes shining bright. It reached for him. Renolds could see four fingers and a thumb on its hand, but the fingers were clenched together and could not separate. It was so close he could see the bright green veins along its skin.

The Soulite tried to touch Renolds's face. It couldn't, so it reached for his chest instead. It tore open his jacket pocket. Something tumbled to the ground. The jewel he found in Sanctuary exploded with light.

The chamber suddenly erupted with golden light. The jewel was almost as bright as the Earth's sun. Closing his eyes, Renolds bent down and grabbed the jewel. With a glimmer of hope he held the jewel up. As soon as the light touched the Soulites, they shrieked and were literally burned alive. Within seconds, the black cloud slithered away from Mark and Elizabeth. They were hurled backward by an unseen force and slid across the floor. Alive or dead, Renolds wasn't sure. He couldn't stop to watch. He couldn't even lower the jewel, which pulsed with power in his hand.

One after the other, the Soulites burned to death. As Mark and Elizabeth rolled across the floor they were covered by fiery ash. It was only when every single Soulite was gone that Renolds could lower his hand. He stared at the jewel, which was now blackened. Spent. He stared at it with childlike wonder.

Elizabeth stopped herself and drew in a gasping breath. “Oh God,” she whispered, trembling. “No one can help us.”

Renolds lifted his head as he heard a screech. More were coming. “Move!”

Though clearly shaken, Mark was on his feet in seconds. He hauled Elizabeth onto her feet by her arms. She looked barely alive.

Quickly Renolds placed the jewel in his backpack. “Let's get to the shuttle!” he ordered. He immediately started to run and stopped when he realized that he wasn't being followed. He turned. “Mark!”

Mark didn't move.

* * * *

The first officer knew that they didn't have a chance to make it back to the shuttle before the Soulites came. Renolds's little light show was impressive, but it wouldn't be enough. Not nearly.

The Soulites rounded the corner, once again merging into a dark cloud. Under no circumstances did Mark wish to be caught in that again. What he'd seen inside it shook him to the very core. Within it, he'd seen reflections of what he was and what he could be. He gripped Elizabeth tighter as he touched a button on his wrist scanner.

The station rocked violently, just as the cloud reached Mark and Elizabeth. Elizabeth closed her eyes as the Soulites suddenly veered away, shrieking. The cloud broke over them both like a harmless wave. The station shuddered again, and Mark and Elizabeth almost fell again to the squishy ground. Renolds was barely able to hang on. They were alone in the massive chamber.

Mark glanced at Renolds, smiling a little. “Didn't have time to tell you I planted bombs.”

Another screech sounded, this time closer.

“That won't stop them for long,” Renolds remarked. “Come on!”

They ran hard, in formation, for the shuttle. As Renolds opened the hatch, Mark took out his gun. His heart lurched with fear. The Soulites were just entering the chamber. They moved so fast that they would be on them in seconds.

Renolds made it first into the shuttle, followed by Elizabeth and Mark.

The telepath sat curled in a ball, sobbing quietly. Mark hunched over her, a gun pointed at the open entrance of the shuttle. Surprisingly, the Soulites didn't try to break in. Above the three survivors, a low chuckle echoed all around them; almost human but alien enough to grate against Mark's nerves.

Neilson bent down next to Renolds. “Are you all right?”

“Get us out of here!” Renolds ordered sharply.

Mark joined him. He gave the navigation chair a reassuring squeeze before sitting down and activating the controls.

He suddenly heard a crash behind him and turned around in surprise. Renolds had slammed Neilson against the wall. Mark had never seen Renolds so furious.

“Is it true?” Renolds's blue eyes were promising murder. “Is it true?”

Neilson turned his head away. “Yes,” he whispered. “All of it.”

“Why?” Renolds demanded.

Neilson glanced at Elizabeth. “I'm sure they told you.”

Mark had no idea what they were talking about. As interesting as it was, they were running out of time. He started the engines.

“Take us off it,” Renolds demanded. “Now.”

Neilson shook his head miserably. “I can't. Your bodies have become dependent on the serum. If I try and wean you off, it'll kill you.”

Renolds's grip on him tightened. “Why are you helping them?”

“They threatened to kill my family,” Neilson said.

“Get ready for launch,” Mark informed them. Telsia and Elizabeth strapped themselves in.

“I should kill you,” Renolds snapped.

“You still need a doctor,” Neilson replied.

For a long time, Renolds silently considered. Then, he reluctantly released Neilson and joined Mark.

Mark keyed in the final launch sequence. “Taking off ... now!”

The shuttle lifted from the landing pad. It rocked violently and hit the landing pad again. Mark tried to lift the shuttle without any luck. He consulted the scanners. “Vertical thrusters are out.” Elizabeth made small whimpering noises, and Mark saw why. Out of the small window, he saw tendrils of darkness branching toward the shuttle.

“Emergency override,” Renolds ordered. “Restart the engines.”

“Trying,” Mark said, as he keyed in the controls.

Ice formed on the windows in front of them. The engines powered up again. Mark saw the tendrils reach for them, surround them. The shuttle grew deathly cold, and he had a good idea what would happen if they weren't able to lift off. Behind him, Telsia took out her weapon. The first officer could feel the thrusters go back off-line, then die. “I only have starboard thrusters working! I can launch but it won't be clean.”

“Punch it!” Renolds snapped.

Mark pushed the button and the shuttle shot forward, then to the right. The craft scraped against the side of the cargo bay doorway, then rebounded into outer space. Elizabeth shrieked as the shuttle spun out of control. Clenching his teeth, Mark tried to regain navigation as warning lights flashed everywhere. After a few nerve-racking seconds, the controls finally responded and the shuttle stopped.

Mark released a deep breath. In the distance they could see a Soulite ship attacking the Vigilant. Their ship had already taken heavy damage.

* * * *

Carl ran down the hall to engineering. There was one way to power the Vigilant's weapons that normally would never be considered. Based on what Sym had told him, one good hit at the ship should be enough to destroy it.

Which should be an acceptable trade for one life. He could use Sym and his own neural energy to power the ship. For one brief minute, the Vigilant could be back to full power. No one knew that he could interface with the Vigilant components, not even the captain. But it was something he could do.

Carl entered engineering. Since the first Soulite attack, he had lost half of his personnel. The rest were scrambling throughout the ship to stay ahead of hundreds of malfunctions. There were only two people in engineering, both too busy to acknowledge him. Carl's only focus was on the reactor just ahead.

Once, it might have been glowing with green light. Now it was black, and a large crack ran through the middle. Carl traced the outline for a second. To his left, he found what he was searching for—a console with an auxiliary port. It had a direct connection to the Vigilant network. This would kill him or send his mind so far back that he would be a vegetable. He sat down on the ground in a shadowed corner where he wouldn't be seen. He was going to miss this place and the crew.

With that thought, he touched the open port, and felt an immense surge of power through his body. He transferred it all through the port, sparing none for himself. Inwardly, it felt like his mind could be expanded in a million different directions before his vision exploded in fire. Outwardly, all of this happened within a millisecond.

Carl gave a choked gasp and his head reeled backward. He slumped against the wall and was aware of nothing more.

Around him every single panel lit up with power.

* * * *

Renolds glanced at the various damage reports from the shuttle. It was nothing they couldn't fix later, and they were able to divert enough power to get vertical thrusters operational. But only just.

For a moment they could only watch the Soulite vessel firing at the Vigilant.

“We can't get past them to reach the Vigilant, can we?” Telsia asked, very softly.

“No,” Mark said.

Renolds said, “They still haven't detected us yet. Can I count on you to get us very close to that alien ship?”

“That's suicide,” Mark said.

“Does that mean it's a bad idea?”

Mark smiled a little. “Actually, I love it. We can't do a lot of damage, but we might be able to deactivate a few systems if we try.”

There was a tense silence as the shuttle glided soundlessly toward the Soulite vessel, which seemed more like a shadow with only the faintest hint of green that pulsed with energy. Renolds knew there was no way they could return to the Vigilant now, and so did everyone in the shuttle craft. But it would be worth it if they could give his crew a fighting chance.

“We're almost on top of them. Either they haven't noticed us or they have no reason to,” Mark said.

“Then let's give them a reason,” Renolds replied, and fired. As the plasma burst hit the Soulite warship, Renolds watched a remarkable transformation. The warship twisted on itself and literally turned to face them head on.

“Uh-oh!” Mark said. He hit evasive maneuver, but not in time. The ship pitched violently to the right. “Sorry, didn't know the Soulite ship could do that.”

Renolds continued firing. This time there was a small explosion along the hull of the Soulites’ ship.

Mark glanced in surprise at the readout on the screen. “I don't believe it. That shot disabled their weapons.”

“Guess my aim is improving,” Renolds muttered.

“Our path is clear to the Vigilant.” Another beeping sound made him glance at the captain.

“We're getting a hail.”

“From our ship?” Renolds asked.

“From the station,” Mark said quietly. Behind him Elizabeth held her breath.

“Bring it up,” Renolds said after a moment.

Mark did so. Immediately the late Lieutenant Ordias appeared behind them, glowing with blue light. Telsia took her weapon out, but Renolds stopped her with a hand to the shoulder. “Hologram,” he said.

Ordias smiled. “I hope you enjoyed our meeting, Captain. We'll see each other very soon. As more of your crew die, more of them will cross over to our side. Until finally, there will be no one left. Humanity is doomed."

“We'll fight you,” Renolds said. “We'll find a way.”

Ordias seemed to hear him and glanced to the left. "It's admirable that you think you're making a difference. In truth, you three have just made a big mistake. The core changes people, Captain, in more ways than one. Mentally, spiritually, and physically. But I'll let you discover that for yourselves. Captain Osirus, Commander Collingway, Lieutenant Commander Simmins, Elizabeth ... “ Ordias winked at Neilson. “Doctor. It was an honor to serve."

With those words, Ordias disappeared. The shuttle trembled. Mark held onto the console. “The Soulite warship just repaired their weapons!” he warned. “Another hit like that and we'll be in pieces.”

“I don't think that's going to happen,” Renolds whispered, his eyes focused at the outside window.

Mark followed his gaze.

A flicker of blue light danced in front of the Vigilant. An equally blue beam of light crossed before it, followed by another, until they formed a lattice configuration. Each beam touched the flicker. The beams connected, making the symbol of NAVA before exploding with white light, blinding Renolds. A final beam shot through the flicker and tore through the alien ship, cutting it in half.

“I'm heading toward the ship!” Mark said instantly.

Renolds activated the com. “Carl, I'm not sure what you did, but whatever it was worked!”

A hesitant voice came on the channel. “Um, thanks sir. But I'm not sure where Chief Engineer Davids is now. Did I hit the right target?”

[Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter 27

A few minutes later, Renolds exited the airlock of the Vigilant. “Where is he?” he demanded to Hannah, who was waiting for them. “Where is Carl?”

“I'm not really sure,” she stammered. “He just left and said to wait for his signal. The next thing I knew, all power had been restored to the weapons.”

Renolds frowned. “What could have he possibly been able to...” He froze. “Son of a bitch. I know what he did.”

* * * *

Carl opened his eyes as he felt the sting of a needle against his neck. “What happened?” he asked.

“I pulled you out of that coma,” Neilson said, holding a scanner over Carl's head. “You were lucky they found you. I d-didn't know you were even capable of doing something like that.”

Carl stood shakily onto his feet.

Neilson gripped his shoulders. “Now wait just a minute!”

“Can't. I have a ship to run,” Carl said, and ran out the door.

“If I don't give you further stimulants, you could fall back into that coma!” Neilson warned, but Carl ignored him.

* * * *

“Check every port and starboard junction that can interface with the computer. Find anyplace where he could have—” Renolds said as he rounded the corner.

“I'm here, Captain,” Carl said, hurrying upon the scene. His clothes were in a state of disarray, and his face was drawn and pale. “We've destroyed the lead ship, but the other ships on the station are powering up. They'll be operational in ten minutes.”

Renolds nodded. “Then let's get up to the bridge.”

They entered the elevator. “Do you have a plan to end this?” Mark asked.

“You know it,” Renolds replied. Half a minute later the elevator reached the bridge.

The doors opened, and Telsia turned around. “Captain on the bridge,” she announced, sounding slightly relieved.

“Don't bother to salute. I've had a long day,” Renolds grumbled as some as the younger officers moved to just do that. Dammit, he was tired and pissed off. Between what they faced on the Soulite station and the fight with the warship, the current situation seemed nothing more than a small and irritating inconvenience to be taken care of. “What's our status?”

Carl took over the science station. “We don't have enough power to fire another shot. The other ships will be operational in four minutes.”

Silence filled the room as the other officers looked at Renolds expectantly.

“I'm not planning to take another shot at them,” Renolds said. “Cut all remaining power. Make it seem like we're dead in the water.”

Hannah did so. “Do you think they'll buy it?”

“There's a sixty-two percent probability that they'll try and take us alive if we're helpless,” Carl whispered, almost to himself.

Renolds smiled a little as he sat down in the captain's chair. “Mark, what do you think is the most powerful force on this ship?”

Mark frowned at the unexpected question. “Our weapons.”

“Nope. That's a common misconception on this ship and every single science fiction television program I've ever seen. Actually, it's the self-destruct. A massive hydrogen bomb capable of severe gamma radiation. It could almost take out a planet. I plan to use that bomb.”

“The self-destruct was never supposed to be used as a projectile weapon! How do you plan to release it?” Hannah asked.

“Fortunately, it is on the very edge of C-deck. Just within our own weapons’ range,” Renolds said. He activated the ship-wide intercom. “This is the captain. All personnel evacuate C-Deck.”

Hannah blinked. “We blow a hole in our own ship? Sir, the sheer mathematics of not hitting the bomb prematurely and calculating the right time to detonate against the station...”

Renolds stared at the chief engineer. “Carl? Can you do it?”

Carl hesitated for a long moment as all eyes turned toward him. Then, after a minute of silence, he went to the weapons panel.

Mark made sure he was out of hearing range. “If you're right, we'll never be able to blow up our own ship again,” he said to Renolds.

“If I'm wrong, we won't have a ship to blow up ever again,” Renolds pointed out.

* * * *

Behind him, Carl stared at the controls. Mathematically, it was possible, but there were other factors to an equation. Human error was a strong possibility. If he hit the wrong button or was off by the slightest second ... Carl swallowed. He input a few equations, and the Vigilant moved forward.

Renolds stared at the viewscreen. The Soulite station was approaching. Tension was heavy on the bridge, and there wasn't any sound except for the beeping of the controls Carl pressed.

Time was almost up. The captain could see the other ships attached to the station begin to power up. “Carl!” Renolds snapped tersely.

Carl didn't bother to reply. He started the self-destruct sequence and gave his own authorization code, then paused. “I can't do it,” he whispered, inaudible except to himself. “There's just too many calculations to follow.”

Telsia stared without expression at the screen, not a flicker of emotion in her eyes. Behind the captain, Elizabeth swallowed nervously.

“It's going to be okay,” Mark said quietly to her.

Renolds finally glanced at the chief engineer. “Carl, anytime tod—”

Carl fired.

A single burst of light flew out of the weapons port and hit the hull of the ship. Carl heard an odd creaking noise, one he hoped he would never have to hear again. He held his balance as the ship pitched forward, and he kept his eyes focused only on the view screen. A large black cylinder slowly floated out of the hole. Renolds, Mark, and every single person on that bridge watched and collectively held their breaths. It connected against the Soulite station.

Then it exploded.

Carl stared at the spectacular view. For a moment, there was stunned silence.

Then the bridge broke into cheers. People were already clapping Carl on the shoulder, who stared zombie-eyed at the screen.

Renolds released a sigh of relief, then his eyes hardened on the burning Soulite Station. “Still think we can't do anything?” he whispered to it.

Carl stared at the view screen in astonishment. Much to his disappointment, but no real surprise, the Soulite Station was not destroyed. It did appear heavily damaged, however.

“Hannah,” Renolds said.

“Already on it. Getting us out of Dodge,” the lieutenant said with a wink.

Renolds glanced at the bridge crew. “Back to stations! We're not out of this yet!”

The bridge crew scrambled to obey. All except Mark. “Congrats,” he whispered to Carl. “That must have taken some math.”

“I couldn't figure it out,” Carl whispered.

Mark stared at him, faintly in surprise.

“There were just too many calculations ... not enough time. I took a wild guess.” Carl met his eyes. “I play to win too. And it's not like anyone could be mad at me afterward.”

Before Mark could reply more people came to shake Carl's hand. Mark stood, but Carl didn't miss the small smile on his face. It was the last thing he saw before the first officer's hands reached out to keep him from falling out of his chair.

* * * *

That evening Mark entered the medical room. Inside were dozens of people on bio-beds, some suffering from serious wounds. We're losing more of our crew every day, Mark thought resignedly. The first officer wasn't going to fool himself. Without more supplies, they could only limp through Soulite territory for a few months at the most. Right now they had no weapons, no shields and a rapidly dwindling crew. At present they could not afford another fight with the Soulites, or anyone else.

He approached the bio-bed where Carl lay. Outwardly, the chief engineer didn't have a scratch on him. Inside, though, was a different story. “How is he?”

Neilson studied the data scan. “Doing surprisingly well. I gave him a series of treatments that knocked him out of the second coma. No injuries otherwise. He's been sleeping for the past few hours. I was just about to wake him.”

Mark nodded. Neilson pressed a needle into his arm. A moment later, Carl's blue eyes fluttered open. “What happened?”

“I think the captain said it best when he described your predicament as ‘thinking too hard,'” Mark replied.

Carl tried to lift his head and groaned.

“Doc barely pulled you out of a second coma. I have half a mind to give you a medal, and another half to toss you in Telsia's dungeon. You left the bridge during a critical situation, giving it to an officer who had no previous bridge experience.”

Carl stared at him. “That sounds familiar.”

“And I really shouldn't be one to talk,” Mark concluded, and folded his arms. “But still, don't ever do that again, all right? No one on this ship is expendable. Not you, or me, or the captain. Not even to get us out of a bad situation. And you may consider that an order from your superior officer.”

“Mathematically, it was the only option left,” Carl protested.

“Not everything can be solved by what you know,” Mark admitted. “I can testify to that.” He cleared his throat and turned to leave.

“Hey, thanks,” Carl said.

Mark smiled. “Anytime. You did the same for me, remember?”

Carl didn't reply, but he smiled as well.

* * * *

“From the alien archive, we've already learned that there are five species of Soulites,” Carl said the next morning in the captain's quarters. The chief engineer seemed incredibly tired, and Renolds wondered if he had gotten any sleep since he had left medical. Probably not, he surmised.

“The ones that we see the most frequently are the ones that are invisible, no hidden joke intended. They are mostly able to mess with our minds, as you and the commander discovered.”

“Wait a minute,” Renolds said. “Wasn't all that information in an alien language?”

“Yeah. I translated it last night,” Carl said, as though it should have been obvious. “The one you described as having a pure white brilliance is apparently the oldest and knowledgeable of the Soulites. They can live in sub-zero temperatures, but they can also live in our environment as well. Now, the one that Mark ran into was one who could live in extreme heat. I didn't find out a lot about them, but they sound pretty nasty. There are also the Advocates. There's not too many of those, which is something to be thankful for. From what I can tell, they are extremely powerful.”

“What about the fifth species? That's only four,” Renolds pointed out.

Carl spread his hands. “It says five species, but I can't find any data on the last. The four I've been researching are bad enough. There is a little biological information about them, but it's not very descriptive, sir. To be honest, ninety percent of this archive is about their religious beliefs. Which centers around this picture.” He handed a data sheet to him.

Renolds studied a picture of a door with alien writing on it. “Can you read this writing?”

“Not yet,” Carl said. “But I'm working on it.”

Renolds stood. “You've done a hell of a job, Carl. You've saved my ship three times, and the third time you nearly died for it. You should know that I'm considering you for immediate promotion to second officer, if you want it, that is.” He pushed Telsia's pins on the desk in front of Carl.

Carl's face went blank as he thought about it. Then he pushed the pins back. “Sorry, sir. I have to refuse.”

Renolds stared at him, shocked. “Why? You're more than qualified. You've taken command and saved the ship three times. All you really have to do is take the written exam, and with Sym's help, you can ace it.”

“And I will. After Telsia gets her commission back. I'm going to earn the promotion, but not by slitting someone else's throat, sir,” Carl said.

Renolds considered what he said. “All right. But thank you just the same.”

“Sir, there's also something else. All the Soulites I mentioned are able to interfere with our memories and perceptions to a very detailed level. But that's all.”

“Your point?” Renolds asked.

“The core of our ship could not have contaminated itself. There are safety procedures in place to prevent such an occurrence. More specifically, codes that need to be entered. Codes that are simply impossible to hack into, and are known only to the command staff. And myself, of course.”

“Are you suggesting that one of us is either influenced by a Soulite, or is a traitor?”

Worry flickered in Carl's blue eyes. “I'm not suggesting anything. I'm only telling you the facts. It's what I do.”

“Well, one more problem we have to deal with. Get some sleep, Carl. I know you haven't gotten any,” he added as Carl was about to open his mouth to protest. “We'll still be here tomorrow.”

Carl nodded, and left.

Renolds reached forward and picked up a picture of a blond-haired, blue-eyed woman. “Miss you,” he whispered.

Suddenly the doors opened. “Hi, Captain,” Elizabeth said, somewhat nervously. “Do you have a minute?”

Renolds turned to face her. “Elizabeth. Yes, please sit down.”

Elizabeth did so, fidgeting nervously.

Renolds folded his hands. “Let's make one thing clear. I'm not a visionary or a saint. I know how we treat telepaths is wrong. Someday and somewhere there might be a policy to change that, but it won't be by me. Can you read my mind? Do you understand that?”

“I...” Elizabeth bit her lip. “Yes. That's not why I requested to see you, sir. You have to know what happened on the Soulite station, and what I sensed. We should be very afraid.”

Renolds said nothing for a moment. “The core.”

Elizabeth's eyes were wide with fear. “Yes. The core is a dark tunnel, with no way to ascend or descend. If anyone goes down there, anything human, they would instantly become insane.”

“Almost what happened to us,” Renolds said.

“We were lucky,” Elizabeth said, but something in her voice sounded unconvinced. “Sir, the message ... Ordias said we would change.”

“Do you feel any different?” Renolds asked.

“No,” Elizabeth had to admit.

“Me neither. Right now, his words don't hold much water with me.”

Elizabeth continued to stare at her hands. “We were on the rim of the core. What we faced was mild compared to what's down there. The core is the disease. It is the home of the Queen, after all. She lies at the bottom of the core. Waiting.”

Renolds grabbed her arm. “Who? Elizabeth, do you know?”

Elizabeth didn't meet his eyes. “I don't. Not much, anyway. It hurts to think about her.” She met Renolds's eyes. “No one can go there. But someday we may have to.”

“Because it's our only way back?”

Elizabeth nodded.

“Then we have to,” Renolds said, but with a touch of gentleness. It wasn't hard to admit that he liked the girl more by the minute. Her sheer courage had touched him, courage he knew the entire crew would need to have. Together.

The door chimed. “Come in,” Renolds said. The doors opened, and Mark was waiting.

Elizabeth took that as a hint to leave and stood.

“Oh, and we'll see about getting you better quarters,” Renolds added as she was about to leave.

She turned around. “Captain?”

“Elizabeth, you don't have to say anything,” Renolds said.

“But I have to,” Elizabeth said. “When we started this mission, I had no hope we would make it back. Now I do.” She turned, glanced hesitantly at Mark, and left.

All of a sudden, Renolds noticed an envelope on his desk with his name on it. He picked it up, and when Mark approached, dropped it back on the desk. “Strange, I thought you above all people would have supported my decision.”

Mark frowned. “Why? Because we are both something that NAVA hates and fears?”

“Because you and Elizabeth are two of my crew members who have a lot of trouble fitting in,” Renolds said. “You can't paint Elizabeth with the same brush as the ones who did this to you, Mark.”

“Maybe.” The tone in his voice implied that he wanted to change the subject.

Renolds obliged. “So what are you doing here on the Vigilant? You never did get around to telling me.”

“Honestly, I don't know,” Mark admitted. “I can barely remember anything in my life. The last clear memory I have is killing thousands of people during the war. Everything else is blocked by NAVA. It's almost like I'm a completely different person.”

Renolds leaned back in his chair, thinking.

Mark sat down on the black leather couch opposite the captain. “So. Here we sit.”

“Is there any way to remove the program in your head?” Renolds asked.

“Oh yes. Elizabeth could probably do it very easily. But would you want that? Understand, Renolds, that underneath this personality is a man who only sees what NAVA did to him. If he broke through all the layers of programming in my head, he would kill you. Swiftly, surely, and without a single thought. Same with the rest of the crew.”

“And what about you? What do you want?” Renolds asked, intrigued.

Mark hesitated. “What would you do, Captain? If you learned that you used to be a very different person and that to switch back to that other person you would lose what you had now? Your sense of self?”

Renolds thought about it. “I would probably do whatever the hell I could to hang onto what I had.”

“Hate to break it to you, but it will happen someday soon. The technology NAVA used was brand-new. And very faulty.” Mark stared accusingly at him. “This is the reason why NAVA is so terrible. One of the reasons. And you're still afraid to face that.”

“We still have no idea why they did this to you, Commander. Or why you're on this vessel. Afraid?” Renolds raised his eyebrow. “No. But I've got a lot of people who live a dream right now that NAVA is perfect. Would you like me to tell them, Commander? Or should you? Right now? You're not the only one who's lost. There are two hundred people on this ship who are lost too. They're stranded in enemy territory with no way to get home. You and I are the only two people who can tell them where to go.”

Mark didn't answer, looking hesitant.

“I remember at the start of this mission, you called me a pencil-pusher. That I always played by the book, had never fought in the war, and led a comfortable life. You're wrong. I fought in the last battle. I was pretty young back then. We met, briefly, although I doubt you remember. I told you that my sister was a radio technician. So was I.”

Mark was unable to conceal his astonishment.

“It ran in the family,” Renolds added. He opened a desk drawer and took out a silver key dangling on a chain. “This would have given me command five years sooner if I had turned it in. They might have even made me an Admiral. I honestly don't know why I kept it. Now I do.” He held it up. “I believe this is yours.”

Stunned, Mark slowly took it. He stared at the key in his hand, the key that was lost in the war eleven years ago. It was still stained with blood. Nathan's blood.

“The war's over, Commander. Now we're facing a new one, and the only way we're going to win it is together. To do that, we have to remember what we've lost ... and what we fight for.”

Mark's hand closed around the key, his face a conflict of emotions. He stood and turned to go.

“By the way, you may not realize this, but you called me ‘Captain’ earlier.”

“Slip of the tongue.” Mark smiled with a hint of his usual sarcastic self. “Hey, wait a minute. Back in the war, didn't I shoot you in the kneecap?”

“Yeah, I plan to collect on that someday,” Renolds said with a trace of amusement. “Have a good night, Commander.”

As soon as Mark left, the captain picked up the envelope and opened it. A blood-red data crystal tumbled out. He placed the crystal into a slot.

A small hologram flickered to life in front of him. It was Admiral Yates. Her brown hair was unkempt and her face was scratched. “Hello, Captain. I apologize for not getting back to you sooner. But you must know by now that Earth is in a dire situation. I think it's time we discussed your mission.”

Renolds stared at the hologram in absolute shock.

Admiral Yates continued to smile. “I can see and hear you perfectly, by the way. This crystal allows for two-way communication.”

He was almost too astonished for words. The first question he asked was to him the most important. “Earth. Did it survive the Soulite attack?”

“Yes, for now. Whether or not we will continue to survive is another matter entirely. The battle is not going well. But at least some of our plan has been successful.”

“I know what the Soulites are,” Renolds said. “They were failed experiments of NAVA. And all of us here are going to be just like them someday. What is your plan to prevent that?”

Yates's eyes shifted to the left. “It is regrettable that you know that,” she said. “We're working on it.”

“I can't say I approve of your methods.”

“Which methods are you referring to?”

“Marcus Collingway. You toyed with his mind,” Renolds said. “My God, who are we to do that to a man? And Telsia Simmons. Your orders prevented her from telling me vital information which could have saved a hundred lives of my crew.”

Yates frowned. “I trust you are not forgetting where your loyalties are, Captain. You are talking about a man who happily killed thousands of our people, and a woman who is too incompetent to be trusted with anything important. Since this data crystal only has a limited life-span, perhaps we should move onto more important matters?”

Renolds stood. “Just how are we supposed to stop this invasion? Why did you send me to the Soulite territory?”

“Send you?” Yates echoed. “We didn't send you anywhere. It was a complete accident. But I am glad you are in Soulite territory, anyway. Sometimes, Captain, the best defense is a good offense. Your ship's compliment has the best and brightest. You alone might just be our only chance.”

“Maybe if I'd had a little advanced warning, I wouldn't have lost a third of my ‘best and brightest'. Why didn't you tell me what you were planning?”

“Would you have volunteered if you had known?” Yates asked, smiling a little. “Well, I guess we'll never find out now, seeing how you're stranded in their universe.”

Renolds didn't reply.

“Captain, you have a duty to NAVA and to Earth. Your orders are to find a way to destroy the Soulites, and to not return until you do. I will try to establish communications at a later date. Admiral Yates out.”

With that, she disappeared. The crystal turned black.

Renolds stared at it. “You could have at least gotten me a better ship.”

[Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter 28

It wasn't easy for Mark to admit, but Renolds did have a point. If it weren't for Elizabeth, he wouldn't even be here. He had also become increasingly aware of the attraction between them, and it was wrong for so many reasons. He had killed her brother, and in return, she was one of the telepaths who had ruined his only chance in the war.

The first officer entered the mess hall and glanced around quickly. The chatter in the cafeteria was light. No one but the senior officers knew of the conversation between Renolds and Ordias, and they certainly didn't know what the Soulites really were. That information was better kept a mystery.

He spotted Elizabeth standing next to a window, looking outside. It was odd how he was getting used to the strange fluidic space around them, and the constant darkness inside the Vigilant.

“Elizabeth ... I...” Mark said, not meeting her eyes. He knew there could never be anything between them. He couldn't even apologize for killing her brother.

Elizabeth stared at him for a moment, her eyes empty. “The other telepaths left, didn't they? Without me?”

“Yes.”

“You were the last person to talk to them?” Without waiting, Elizabeth continued, “What did they say?”

Mark shrugged. “Just that they were planning to start a new life. Away from us.”

“I can't believe they did that. What am I supposed to tell NAVA when we get back?”

Mark's eyes narrowed. Truthfully, he hadn't given much thought about returning to Earth. Assuming Earth had even survived the Soulite attack. “I think NAVA will have other things to worry about.”

“Do you think the other telepaths will ever come back? For me, I mean?”

I really hope not. He had a real concern of what would happen if they did return, and what he would have to do to protect the Vigilant.

“You really think that?” Elizabeth asked. Seeing Mark jump in surprise, she smiled sadly. “You're the only person whose mind I can't read on this ship, but I can sometimes hear a thought or two. You're thinking that you're going to have to kill the other telepaths, because they're not going to leave the Vigilant alone. Their anger is just too strong.” She touched the window. “And I'm just as dangerous as they are. Maybe even more so.”

Mark said nothing, watching her.

“My powers are still growing, and I wasn't the most powerful telepath in the group,” Elizabeth whispered. “In fact, I was pretty low on the scale. But now I can hear every thought of all the crew members of the Vigilant, all at the same time. I can do things I never even dreamed possible before, and I have the feeling it's only the start of something bigger.”

Mark didn't quite know what to say. “I trust you, Elizabeth, and so does the entire crew.”

Elizabeth glanced at him. “How do I know you're not just saying that to make me feel better?”

Mark hesitated, then touched her hand.

Elizabeth gasped as new emotions flooded through her. All the blockades she encountered with his mind were cleared away. Mentally she reviewed the last conversation he had with Myers. In no time at all, she also knew his feelings toward her. Considering how telepaths had screwed up his mind to begin with, it was taking a lot of trust on his part for her to do this.

“That's how,” Mark said.

“Wow,” Elizabeth whispered, and let go of his hand.

Mark withdrew, suddenly aware of the fact that she must have also scanned the darker parts of his psyche. “Sorry,” he said. “I didn't mean...” He turned to go.

“Wait,” Elizabeth said. “I'm sorry, but I can't forgive you for what you did to me. I really think you do deserve to die.”

Mark nodded, not really surprised.

“But the person you are now doesn't deserve to die. And I can forgive him,” Elizabeth said.

Mark shook his head sadly. “It's not real, Elizabeth. Just a program that NAVA made years ago.”

“If that was really true, shouldn't I be hearing how great NAVA is from you? Every single day since you've arrived?” Elizabeth said gently and then smiled as he considered this. “Good night, Commander.”

Without looking back, she left the mess hall.

* * * *

The Vigilant really was commanded by a crew of fools.

It had been child's play for the escape pods to latch onto the Soulite Station while the Vigilant was busy making its escape. If Myers had been commanding the ship, he would have made sure that any potential threat was eliminated first. Like, for example, a few telepaths with powers capable of changing the universe.

Myers smirked as he walked down the Soulite hall. But then, mercy was a human failing, and the telepaths weren't exactly human anymore. They had lived under NAVA's so-called ‘mercy’ for centuries. And now they were finally free to do as they pleased.

He glanced around. The station was impressive. It was practically built on telepathic energy. Amazing that someone non-telepathic actually survived here. Not only that, but the Vigilant had even managed to cause a significant amount of damage. He touched the burnt hull with one hand. “So much damage from such a little ship,” he remarked, and looked down below at the massive core of the station.

There was a strange creaking noise, and the core exploded in green light. Myers had to shield his eyes from the strain. Then the green light dissipated, and the telepaths could see hundreds of Soulites skidding toward Myers from the walls, ceiling, and floor. None of them approached him, even though Myers was pretty confident they could tear him apart in seconds.

“I want to make you an offer,” Myers said. “One that I bet you're going to love.” He raised his eyebrow. “Of course making an offer usually requires talking to a leader of some kind. Do you have one or am I wasting my time?”

No one answered with words, but Myers was able to pick up their thoughts easily enough. And the fear that went with them. “The Queen. I want to talk to the Queen.”

The Soulites abruptly left him, and he was standing once more in an empty chamber. A moment later there was a sharp wind, and Myers could feel a build-up of power all around him ... The Queen was coming. And when she arrived, they would have a nice, long talk.

* * * *

Five hours after he received the message, Renolds stared out the window of his quarters. The Vigilant was going past a neighboring sun, which in the Soulite territory looked like a light-green globe of light.

Renolds sighed. He was facing a hard choice, possibly the hardest choice in his life. NAVA had given him a very specific mission. But not one member of his crew had been asked to undertake it. Renolds could still remember a conversation he and Mark had.

'It's time you stop being the captain you have to be and maybe start being the captain you should be.'

'No matter how much you like to enjoy believing it, NAVA is not destroyed yet. Not here, not on this vessel. It will always exist here.'

Renolds wasn't right, but neither was he wrong. This ship wasn't exactly a NAVA ship. Not anymore. So what did that mean? That he would eventually become a bitter man like Thadius? A man who sold his principles to the highest bidder?

'You betrayed everything a captain stands for.'

His own words echoed in his head. Mutiny. Betrayal. Those very words shocked him to his core. There was only one worse alternative, and that was to send the Vigilant back into Soulite territory to die. His crew trusted and depended on him.

And very soon, he was going to lie to each and every single one of them. That way, only one person would be court-martialed when they returned to Earth.

* * * *

Renolds adjusted his uniform as he waited in the elevator. The doors opened, and he stepped onto the bridge. There was still a great deal of damage from the Soulite attack. Mark and Carl were working side by side, fixing the damage from a circuit board. Telsia was checking over a security report. Elizabeth was on the bridge as well, bubbling with happiness.

Hannah stood. “Captain on deck!”

Everyone stood at attention and saluted. Except, of course, for Mark, who just folded his arms as he stood. But there was a spark of amusement in his eyes, one that had never been there before. Elizabeth beamed as she saluted. Telsia saw this and scowled openly.

Renolds took a moment to study them all: once strangers, some former enemies. Now they were people he depended on.

“At ease. You all know the situation. None of us expected any of this to happen. And there has been cost. Great cost. There might even be more.”

The captain hesitated. “I just received a communication from Earth. Yes, Earth is still out there. Although I can't guarantee that won't change. That's why it's imperative we head back there as soon as we can.”

Renolds paused for breath. The crew hung on his every word.

“I refuse to believe that the Soulites are the only ones who can send us back. We're in an unexplored galaxy. Tomorrow, we might easily run into another species with the same technology. We've faced the Soulites today and won. But how many people did we lose? How many people will we lose if we go after them again? NAVA agrees, and also tells me that our being here was a complete accident.”

Renolds had to give himself credit. He had them completely fooled.

“Telsia and Dr. Neilson found something interesting on the way back from the Soulite base. A distress call that once belonged to the very first crew of the Vigilant ... Apparently they survived and have established a colony here. We're going to seek them out. Then, our standing orders are to fly away from Soulite territory. Find allies that can help us, and send us back. So Miss Daniels, set a course.”

“We're not going to get very far without supplies,” Telsia said.

“Sensors detected a ship only a few days away,” Carl said. “I'm already preparing a manifest of supplies we don't need and can trade.”

“Not to mention we need to fix that huge gaping hole where our self-destruct used to be,” Elizabeth mentioned.

Carl grinned. “Got a solution for that, too. I was thinking now was a good time to install a new observation deck. And, you know, we would have needed to tear out a lot of space, so our job's really half-done...”

His senior officers continued to chat behind him. A small, satisfied smile lifted the captain's lips. “We're going to make it,” he whispered to himself.

[Back to Table of Contents]

Epilogue

Current year: 2830

“There is no such thing as choice. At best, they are only amusing distractions leading up to destiny.”

Mark looked up, startled. It had been eleven years since the war ended. Freedom had come at a high cost. They let him go, but they were following him. Mark could feel eyes around him everywhere he went. So he had gone back to Cedar Hill to make peace with his dead comrades. If they could see him now, they would be ashamed.

It had been quiet in the cemetery until now. Suddenly, when he least needed company, here was some old man in a NAVA uniform who talked to him as if he should understand what the man was talking about.

“Now destiny in itself is a beautiful picture. Sometimes things have to be destroyed to make room for greater things. Good people die. Governments crumble. Even whole planets can be destroyed. To make a better future, a great sacrifice has to be made.”

What the hell was this guy babbling about? “Do I know you?” Mark finally asked.

“No,” the man said, smiling a little. “But we both want the same thing. My name is Torin.”

“Torin...?”

“Just Torin,” he said. “Among NAVA, I'm their most prestigious Admiral. You might have seen my portrait hanging on a wall somewhere in the capital. It's a very nice portrait.” Torin focused on Mark. “Actually, you're here today because of me. Everyone else wanted to kill you.”

Mark shook his head, not really caring. “So what? You want me to thank you? Should I kill you? Even I'm not sure what I want anymore, thanks to the NAVA programming in my head. I suppose I have you to thank for that.”

“What you want has always been the same as what I want. The end of NAVA.”

Mark rolled his eyes. “And how do you plan to do that? Wait a minute, why am I even asking? Aren't you their most ‘prestigious Admiral?'”

“You tried to, son, and it didn't work. Somehow, I doubt I'll have much more luck. That's why this time we're going to use the help of some pretty interesting allies,” Torin said.

He threw something, and Mark caught it. He held it up. Entrance requirements for something called the Vigilant. A commander's rank. “What's this?”

“A very important ship,” Torin said. “It leaves in about a week. You'll be on it.”

Mark snickered as he held up the rank. “They don't just give these out in cereal boxes. Everyone knows who I am. No one is ever going to buy this.”

“Leave that to me,” Torin said. “I have a way of influencing people's minds. Just like some friends you'll run into soon enough.”

Mark said nothing.

Torin inspected the grave next to Mark. “Now Nathan, he was a true visionary. I know he gave you a key to carry on that vision. The key really does mean everything. To you. To me. To the universe.”

“I lost that key—” Mark began.

“And you'll find it again. On the ship,” Torin said, not sounding worried.

Mark frowned. “And then what?”

“Don't worry. Think of yourself as a wolf in sheep's clothing. And you won't be the only one. A couple of years at most, and we will both achieve our ends.”

Mark raised his eyebrows. “Which is?”

“The end of NAVA, among other things,” Torin said, and smiled. “And with the help of my new friends, we can save this galaxy.”

Mark watched him leave. Was that really true? The Resistance had been dead for a long time, but he could still get his revenge. He stared at the command pins in his hand.

It wasn't as though anything else mattered.

[Back to Table of Contents]

About Natasha Bennet

www.lyricalpress.com/natashabennett

Natasha Bennett was born in Kamloops, B.C, and has lived in Victoria, B.C for the past fourteen years. Ever since she was a child, Natasha knew that she wanted to be a writer. Unfortunately, not being a fan of Shakespear she usually only obtained a ‘C’ in English class. However, Natasha worked on the craft and her stories have been published in Fear and Trembling, Static Movement, and Cemetery Moon. Shortly afterwards her book was accepted by Lyrical Press.

Throughout her stories she has always been attracted to how normal people react in fantastic situations. In any crises, a human being can easily run away, wait on the sidelines, or try to be the central star and either succeed or fail. This kind of writing style has followed Natasha throughout her writing career. She hates the typical ‘good guy goes to the castle and saves the day’ type of clichés. She would rather show the reader two very different sides and have them decide who the heroes and villains are.

Natasha's Website:

www.warofthesoulites.com

Reader eMail:

warofthesoulites@gmail.com

Visit www.lyricalpress.com for information on additional titles by this and other authors.