Icarus (24 page)

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Authors: Stephen A. Fender

BOOK: Icarus
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   “You too,
Sergeant
,” Melissa replied, darting her eyes to
Clarissa, who shied away from the OSI agent’s friendly scrutiny. “Has anyone
boarded the ship yet?”

   The mechanic shrugged. “Nope. Not a soul. Should they have?”

   “Absolutely not. The Commander and I…have a few things to go over
inside.”

   Trent looked at her, then to Shawn as a clever smirk spilled across
his face.

   Melissa smiled in return. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Trent.”

   “Yes, ma’am. Full gutter ejection in progress.”

   “Will it be okay for us to use the ship’s onboard computer for a little
while?” Shawn asked.

   “Of course. I just need to reattach that emergency release bolt for
the cargo ramp, per your request, Skipper.” He and Shawn smiled at one another,
then Shawn and Melissa made their way inside the Mark-IV.

   When they arrived at the passenger lounge area, Shawn slipped into one
of the seats and initiated the ship’s main computer. “I hope we’re secure in
here.”

   Melissa reached into her flight suit pocket and withdrew two devices.
One was the recorder she had taken with her on the
Icarus
, the other was
a six-inch-long silver tube with a darkened ring around the top. She flipped a
switch on the bottom of the tube and placed it beside the computer terminal.
“This should scramble our signals sufficiently. If we are being monitored or
recorded, all they’ll get is static.”

   “Standard OSI issue?”

   “Of course.” She smiled, but Shawn could tell something was bothering
her.

   “What is it?”

   She spent a moment collecting her thoughts, opening her mouth as if
she were about to speak and then closing it several times before something
finally came out. “It’s about what happened on the
Icarus
.”

   “Which part?”

   “The…um…the part where you saved me.”

   He could see this was hard for her. He didn’t smile, knowing it would
only embarrass her more. “It was nothing.”

   “On the contrary, it was very much something. Your quick thinking
saved my life. I have a good mind to put in a word to Captain Krif about a
commendation for you.”

   “Oh, please…no. I don’t need a reward for doing my job. After all,
Krif
did
say that your protection was my number-one priority.”

   “So…what you did…you did purely out of duty?”

   Shawn pursed his lips as the smell of her jasmine perfume wafted
across his nose. “Well, not
purely
out of duty.”

   She looked as if she were trying to telepathically say something that
her mouth and lungs wouldn’t cooperate to expel. He reached out a hand and
lightly stroked her white cheek.

   Melissa closed her eyes, truly reveling in the touch of a man for what
was probably the first time in her life. “Damn you, Shawn Kestrel,” she
whispered through lightly closed eyes. “I’m no good at people dynamics.”

   “Me neither,” he said softly, then leaned in and gently kissed her
lips. He pulled back after a moment and she placed a shaky palm against his
cheek.

   “Things are going to get…
complicated
…if we keep this up.” She
still wasn’t looking into his eyes.

   “I don’t mind complicated.”

   “But…I do. I mean…I’m used to an ordered life, one that’s structured.
You’ve been…well, let’s just say this whole situation has thrown that life into
some pretty major turmoil.”

   He nodded in understanding. He felt the same way. It seemed that every
time he began to feel close to Melissa, the image of his wife would flash
before his eyes. He couldn’t deny he had feelings for the beautiful woman
seated before him, or that he wanted to explore them; he just wasn’t sure how.
“We’ll make it through this.”

   “I hope so.”

   “I know so,” he said, smiling. She looked at him, returning the
gesture uneasily. “Maybe then you’ll be able to tell me what you were trying to
say back on the
Icarus
before you passed out?”

   She raised an eyebrow, her tone full of jest. “Oh, was I going to say
something? I guess in my state, I wasn’t at all in my right mind.”

   Shawn shook his head and chuckled. “Uh-huh. Sure.”

   “Well,” she said in a voice that indicated a change of subject, “let’s
begin by talking a look at Captain Taggart’s personal log, shall we?” She
removed her hand from his face but kept her eyes leveled into his. “We’ll…take
the rest from there…
very
slowly…okay?”

   He looked at her shimmering auburn hair, down her lightly freckled
forehead, and into to her stunningly green eyes. They were like perfect
emeralds set in pools of milk, and they expected a perfect answer. He only
hoped he had one. “I think I’d like that.”

   She rewarded his words with a smile, then reached for the holovid
recorder and plugged it into the Mark-IV’s main computer. Shawn, doing his own
part, entered in the commands to the console. By leaving Krif out of this
meeting, they were both subverting the normal chain of command. Even though
Melissa was in operational command of the mission, she knew she could very well
get into a lot of trouble from the OSI Director for what she and Shawn were
doing. Shawn knew it as well, and he also knew he would stand by her one hundred
percent—even if it took them all the way to a joint court-martial.

   When all was said and done, they didn’t need to speak the one
undeniable truth they both held close to their hearts: Admiral William Graves
was worth it.

   Satisfied that they both understood the possible ramifications, they
leaned back in their respective chairs as an image of Captain Kralis Taggart
appeared before them on the small monitor screen and began to speak.

 

* * *

 

“Commanding Officer’s mission log, day twenty-three, 0930 hours. We’ve
finally linked up with the
Valley Forge
this morning. We’ve been ordered
by Admiral Grayson to set a course for Corvan. The
Icarus
and the
destroyer
Titan
will be flanking the carrier the whole way. I have to
admit, I’m a little nervous about this mission. Cruising that close to Kafaran
space has me on edge. The crew is performing well, and I hope that this will be
a mission we can complete in short order. I still don’t know what we’re doing
out here, but Admiral Grayson says he’ll bring us into the loop soon, whatever
that means.”


 

“Commanding Officer’s mission log, day forty, 1516 hours. We would have
made it to Corvan in just under a solar day, but we received new orders from
Admiral Grayson two hours ago. We’ve been ordered to change course and come
about to a heading of three-one-nine mark two. It didn’t take a rookie helmsman
to notice that this course correction put us on a straight path to Second Earth—even
though it was that same rookie helmsman who pointed out the error in the
heading. Was it an error? I wish I could say. I asked the Admiral for clarity
on this and was told—in no few words—to keep my mouth shut. What’s more,
Admiral Grayson has ordered a fleetwide blackout. No communications are to be
sent from here without his personal authorization, and all exterior view ports
have been set black. This mission is getting worse by the day.”


 

“Commanding Officer’s mission log, day forty-five, 0610 hours. We’ve
arrived at Second Earth, and I’m extremely uneasy about it. At first glance,
the planet isn’t what I expected. Before today, I’d always believed the
official reports of the planet. Then again, why shouldn’t I have? This place
was supposed to be a barren wasteland, wiped clean by some unholy wrath brought
down by the Kafarans. What I see…well, it couldn’t be further from the truth.
Most of the population centers are almost fully intact, with only the major
cities suffering what could be termed ‘moderate damage.’ Hell, our initial
scans even showed basic flora and fauna thriving in some of the equatorial
regions. As far as radiation is concerned, the levels are almost
human-tolerable. Some of the more robust species of the Unified Collaboration wouldn’t
even notice the effects at all. My biggest concern now is: What do I do with
this information?”


 

“Commanding Officer’s mission log, day forty-six, 0500 hours. An
electronic intelligence craft was launched two hours ago. We’ve been told by
the
Valley Forge
’s commanding officer not to attempt communications with
it, as it will be coordinating with the carrier only. However, he didn’t say
anything about sensors. We tracked it all the way to the far side of the
planet, to a point directly over where Delta Base should have been, but then we
lost her. Thirty minutes later, the ELINT returned on our scopes and
immediately landed back on the carrier. I wish to hell I knew what was going
on. The crew is on edge and I don’t blame them one damn bit.”


 

“Commanding Officer’s mission log, day forty-six, 1045 hours. We’ve been
ordered to help coordinate fighter and reconnaissance cover for the
Valley
Forge
. I’ve been told by the Admiral that the
Valley Forge
will be
ferrying logistics craft down to the surface to perform ‘training maneuvers.’
This whole thing seems highly irregular, and I’ll bet my last credit on the
fact that something else is going on here. Why can’t they just be honest with
us?”


 

“Commanding Officer’s mission log, day forty-seven, 0300 hours. I awoke
from a dead sleep to the sound of Alert Condition One being set. God, could
those alarms be any more annoying? By the time I got to the bridge I was told
that it had been a sensor malfunction. One of the technicians said he’d spotted
something on the long-range sensors, but couldn’t explain in more detail what
he’d scanned. When we played back the sensor recording we saw—for a
split-second—a vessel large enough to be classified a cruiser on the outer
fringes of the system. The blip was there one sweep, then gone the next. Not
wanting to take any chances, I sent out our single ELINT craft from the 55
th
and a pair of fighters from the 212
th
interceptor squadron ten
minutes ago. I’ll see what they have to report before I turn off the alarms. I
hope they transmit back soon. These noises are driving me crazy. The
Valley
Forge
is still in the middle of their ‘training maneuvers’ to the surface,
and I’ve been notified that those operations won’t stop unless our recon craft
find something out there.”


 

“Commanding Officer’s mission log, day forty-seven, 0400 hours. Our recon
squadron still hasn’t reported in yet, nor have the other three fighters that
went out in search of them. This is really unlike Lieutenant Commander
Sterling. Hell, they could have flown out to the edge of the system and back by
now. I’ve notified Admiral Grayson on the
Valley Forge
. He says he’ll
send out another fighter wing as soon as his last patrol comes in. We of static> …en’t seen that sensor ghost return, but that’s starting to mean
very little to me. Accidents happen, things go astray, but to lose
communications from six craft at once is unheard of. We’re remaining at Alert
Condition One status for .”


 

“Commanding Officer’s mission log, day forty-seven, 0420 hours. The
sensor blip just came back a few minutes ago, and this time it’s almost on top
of us. The
Valley Forge
sent out fighters to investigate, but they lost
communications with them seconds after they at the
intercept plot. I’ve ordered all hands to battle stations. The only
communication that was received back from the interceptor squadrons were the
words ‘Kafaran’ and ‘.’ That’s all I needed to set my blood to a
boil. I knew this mission was a mistake.”

 

   Shawn and Melissa watched and listened as voices rang out from
somewhere behind Taggart prior to the Captain signing off from this particular
log.

 

   “Captain, there’s something on the short range sensors!”

   Captain Taggart turned from the screen to face the unseen crewmember.
“Specify location!”

   “It’s off our starboard bow, sir. Closing rapidly.”

   “Stand by on . Arm all forward batteries and prepare to
missiles.

   “They’re firing!”

   “Evasive action! Hard to .”

 

* * *

 

  Shawn and Melissa watched as the screen imaged wavered and blanked out.

   “That’s it, the last entry,” Melissa said sorrowfully. “The log
recorder shut off at that time.”

   “That somewhat explains what Captain Taggart was doing down in
auxiliary control,” Shawn said. “He probably wanted some privacy away from CIC
to record these log entries. He barely had time between his last two to make it
out of the room. That’s one minor mystery solved.”

   “Yes, a very small one. I still want to know what the
Valley Forge
thought she was doing,” Melissa added defiantly. “Sector Command vessels are
strictly
ordered to stay clear of Second Earth at all times. No one should have been
sent down to the planet for any reason whatsoever.”

   “What if Admiral Grayson was working under orders?”

   “The only one who could have cleared that would have been the Director
of Intelligence, and even he would have to go through a dozen channels to make
it happen. Add to that the fact that he didn’t say anything to me when we met
here on board the
Rhea
.”

   “Does that mean he didn’t do it?”

   She smiled faintly. “I know what you’re getting at, Shawn. It
just…wouldn’t make sense, that’s all. I mean, we were bound to turn up
something out here in our search that could’ve easily put us on this train of
thought. The Director could just as easily have told me if he’d given the
Valley
Forge
an order of this magnitude. He’s smarter than you think he is.”

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