Redshirts (15 page)

“Wait,” Finn said, interrupting the commander. “Did you say Jer Weston?”

“Yes,” Q’eeng said, irritated at being interrupted.

“Previously stationed on the
Springfield
?” Finn asked.

“That was his posting prior to the
Nantes,
yes,” Q’eeng said. “Why?”

“I know this guy,” Finn said. “I knew him on the
Springfield
.”

“My God, man,” Abernathy said, leaning forward to Finn. “Tell us about him.”

“There’s not much to say,” Finn said, looking at the captain and then Q’eeng. “He and I worked in the cargo hold together.”

“He was your friend?” Q’eeng asked.

“Friend might be a little much, sir,” Finn said. “Jer is a dick. ‘Friend’ isn’t part of his vocabulary. But I worked with him for more than a year. I spent time with him. He never seemed like a traitor.”

“If spies seemed like traitors they wouldn’t be good spies,” Q’eeng said.

“Finn, we need to know everything you know about Weston,” Abernathy said, intensely. “Anything we can use. Anything that can help us take back control of the
Nantes
before more Calendrian rebel ships converge on this sector. Because if they arrive before the
Nantes
is back in action, the
Intrepid
won’t be enough to keep the pontifex safe. And then it won’t just be the Calendrians fighting themselves. The whole galaxy will be at war.”

There was a long, tense second of silence.

“Uh, okay, sir,” Finn said, eventually.

“Great, thanks,” Abernathy said. His demeanor was suddenly more relaxed. “Wow. A last-minute replacement for this away team, and you just happen to know the crewman we think is the spy. That’s amazing. What are the odds of that?”

“Pretty big odds,” Finn said.

“I’ll say,” Abernathy said.

“Captain, before Crewman Finn briefs us on Weston, I want to discuss the layout of the
Nantes
with you,” Q’eeng said. He and Abernathy fell into a discussion.

Dahl turned to Finn. “You okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” Finn said.

“You’re sure,” Dahl said.

“Andy, quit it,” Finn said. “It’s a coincidence, is all it is. I’m going to get through this. You are going to get through this. We’re going to get back to the
Intrepid,
we’re going to get a drink, and then I’m going to go to Medical when Maia wakes up and kicks my ass. That’s my prediction. I’ll put money on it if you want.”

Dahl smiled. “Okay,” he said, and sat back. He looked over at Abernathy and Q’eeng, still in their conversation. Then he looked over to the other ensign. He was looking at Finn with an expression that Dahl couldn’t quite read.

After a moment, it came to him. The other ensign looked relieved.

And he looked guilty about it.

CHAPTER TWELVE

The
Nantes
bay was empty except for several automated cargo carts rolling about. “Finn and Dahl, you’re with me,” Captain Abernathy said, and then pointed at the remaining ensign. “Grover, you’re with Kerensky and Q’eeng.”

“Yes, sir,” Ensign Grover said, and then was flung backward against the shuttle as a pulse beam hit him, fired from one of the automated carts. As he fell, Dahl caught a glimpse of confusion in his eyes.

And then Dahl was running, with Finn and Kerensky, looking for cover under fire. They found it several meters away, behind storage bins. Several armed cargo carts were now rolling toward them, with the others heading toward where Kerensky and Q’eeng had taken cover.

“Anyone have any ideas?” Abernathy asked.

“Those carts are being controlled from a distance,” Finn said. “If we can get to the quartermaster’s office here in the bay, we can override their signal for the ones in here.”

“Yes,” Abernathy said, and pointed to a far wall. “If this bay is laid out anything like the
Intrepid
’s, it’s over there.”

“I can do it,” Finn said.

Abernathy held up his hand. “No,” he said. “We’ve already lost one crew member today. I don’t want to risk another.”

As opposed to risking our captain?
Dahl thought, but kept silent.

Abernathy raised his pulse gun. “You two cover me as I run for it. I’m going on three.” He started counting. Dahl glanced over to Finn, who shrugged and then readied his pulse gun.

At the three count, Abernathy burst from behind the storage bins like a startled quail and ran in a broken, diving pattern across the bay. The cargo carts abandoned their previous targets and fired at the captain, narrowly missing him each time. Dahl and Finn aimed and knocked out one cart each.

Abernathy made it to the quartermaster’s office, blasting the window and jumping through rather than wasting time opening the door. Several seconds later, the cargo carts noisily deactivated.

“All clear,” Abernathy said, coming into view and hoisting himself over the remains of the window. The members of the
Intrepid
crew reassembled by the fallen corpse of Grover, whose face still had a look of disbelief on it.

“Finn, it looks like your friend Jer Weston is now a murderer,” Abernathy said, grimly.

“He’s not my friend, sir,” Finn said.

“But you do
know
him,” Abernathy said. “If you find him, will you be ready to take him down? Alive?”

“Yes, sir,” Finn said.

“Good,” Abernathy said.

“Captain, we need to move,” Q’eeng said. “There may be others of these carts. In fact, I’m willing to bet that Weston is using the carts as his own robot army to keep the crew members bottled up.”

“Yes, precisely,” Abernathy said, and nodded at Q’eeng. “You and I will make our way to the bridge to see if we can find Captain Bullington, and then assist her in taking back the ship. Kerensky, you take Finn and Dahl here and find Weston. Capture him alive.”

“Yes, sir,” Kerensky said.

“Good,” Abernathy said. “Then let’s move.” He and Q’eeng jogged off toward the bay entrance, to wander the crew corridors, where they would no doubt encounter and fight more armed cargo carts.

Finn turned to Kerensky. “So, what’s the plan?” he asked.

“Plan?” Kerensky said, and blinked.

“If there really is a Narrative, it’s not on him right now,” Dahl said, about Kerensky.

“Right,” Finn said, and turned to Dahl. “How about you?”

“You know what I think,” Dahl said, and motioned to the cargo carts.

“You think Jer’s pulling a Jenkins,” Finn said. “Hiding in the walls.”

“Bingo,” Dahl said.

“A what?” Kerensky said. “What are you two talking about?”

Dahl and Finn didn’t answer but instead went about separate tasks—Dahl accessing the ship records while Finn salvaged from the dead cargo carts.

“There,” Finn said, holding out his hand after he was done. “Three cart IDs. We’re going to have to leave our phones behind so we’re not ID’d when we go into the cargo tunnels, and so the armed carts think we’re one of them and don’t try to kill us.”

“Jenkins knew about this trick,” Dahl said.

“Yeah, but I took the IDs from deactivated carts,” Finn said. “These carts are just recently killed. Their IDs are still in the system. I don’t think Jer had time to figure this one out.”

“Figure what out?” Kerensky asked.

“I think you’re right,” Dahl said, and pulled up on his phone a map of the cargo tunnels. “It doesn’t look like he’s had time to make his hidey-hole disappear from the ship records either, since all of the cart distribution nodes are still on the map.”

“So that’s seven nodes,” Finn said. “Which one do you want to try first?”

Dahl pulled up Weston’s information. “His station was here in the bay complex, so I’d say we try the node closest to it,” he said, and then returned to the map and highlighted a node. “Let’s start here.”

“Looks good,” Finn said.

“I order you to tell me what you’re planning,” Kerensky said, plaintively.

“We’re about to help you capture Jer Weston,” Finn said. “That’ll probably get you promoted.”

“Oh,” Kerensky said, and stood up a bit straighter. “We should definitely do that, then.”

“And avenge the death of Grover here,” Dahl added, nodding to Grover’s still surprised body.

“Yes, that too,” Kerensky said, and looked down at the body. “Poor man. This was his last away mission.”

“Well, yes,” Finn said.

“No, I mean that his term of duty was over in just a couple of days,” Kerensky said. “I assigned him to this mission specifically so he could have one more away experience. A last hurrah. He tried to beg off of it, but I insisted.”

“That was deeply malicious of you,” Dahl said.

Kerensky nodded, either not knowing what
malicious
meant or simply not hearing it, apparently lost in reverie. “A shame, really. He was going to be married, too.”

“Oh, please,
stop,
” Finn said. “Otherwise I’m going to have to frag you.”

“What?” Kerensky said, looking up at Finn.

“I think he means we should probably get going, sir,” Dahl said, smoothly.

“Right,” Kerensky said. “So, where are we going?”

*   *   *

“You two wait here,” Kerensky whispered at a bend in the corridor, after which came the distribution node they were sneaking up on. “I’ll surprise him and stun him, and then we’ll contact the captain.”

“We can’t contact him, we left our phones in the shuttle bay,” Finn said.

“And we should probably deactivate all the armed carts first,” Dahl said.

“Yes, yes,” Kerensky said, mildly irritated. “But
first,
I’ll take him down.”

“A fine plan,” Dahl said.

“We’re right behind you,” Finn said.

Kerensky nodded and readied his weapon, and then leapt out into the corridor, calling Jer Weston’s name. There was an exchange of pulse gun fire, each blast going wide. From the top of the corridor there was a shower of sparks as a pulse gun blast ricocheted through the duct work, which collapsed on Kerensky, pinning him. He groaned and passed out.

“He really
is
completely useless,” Finn said.

“What do you want to do now?” Dahl asked.

“I have a plan,” Finn said. “Come on.” He stood and walked forward, pulse gun behind his back. Dahl followed.

After a few steps the curve of the corridor revealed a disheveled Jer Weston, standing on the distribution node, pulse gun in hand, clearly considering whether or not to kill Kerensky.

“Hey, Jer,” Finn said, walking up to him. “It’s me, Finn.”

Weston squinted. “Finn? Seriously? Here?” He smiled. “Jesus, man. What are the odds?”

“I know!” Finn said, and then shot Weston with a stun pulse. Weston collapsed.

“That was your plan?” Dahl said a second later. “Hoping he’d pause in recognition before he shot you?”

“In retrospect, the plan has significant logistical issues,” Finn admitted. “On the other hand, it worked. You can’t argue with success.”

“Sure you can,” Dahl said, “when it’s based on stupidity.”

“Anyway, this makes my point to you,” Finn said. “If I was going to die on this mission, this probably would have been the moment, right? Me squaring off against my former fellow crew member? But I’m alive and he’s stunned and captured. So much for ‘the Narrative’ and dying at dramatically appropriate moments. I hope you take the lesson to heart.”

“Fine,” Dahl said. “Maybe I’ve been weirding myself out. I’m still not following you into battle anymore.”

“That’s probably wise,” Finn said, and then glanced over to the small computer at the distribution node, which Weston was probably using to control the cargo carts. “Why don’t you disable the killer carts and I’ll figure out how we’re going to get Jer out of here.”

“You could use a cart,” Dahl said, going to the computer.

“There’s an idea,” Finn said.

Dahl disabled the carts across the ship and then heard a groan from Kerensky’s direction. “Sounds like someone is up,” he said to Finn.

“I’m busy trussing Jer like a turkey,” Finn said. “Handle it, if you would.”

Dahl walked over to Kerensky, who was still pinned under duct work. “Morning, sir,” he said, to Kerensky.

“Did I get him?” Kerensky asked.

“Congratulations, sir,” Dahl said. “Your plan worked perfectly.”

“Excellent,” Kerensky said, and wheezed a bit as the debris on top of him compressed his lungs.

“Would you like some help with your duct work, sir?” Dahl asked.

“Please,” Kerensky said.

*   *   *

“There’s nothing in Crewman Weston’s file that indicates any sympathy for the Calendrian rebel cause,” said Sandra Bullington, captain of the
Nantes
. “I requested a hyperwaved report from the Dub U Investigative Service. Weston isn’t religious or political. He doesn’t even vote.”