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Outworld Asylum

By: martincain



SS Mordicai

Tali slept, or tried to sleep, naked in a sleeping bag zipped upright on the bulkhead. Her quarters had formerly belonged to a mechanic named Oswald… she'd found his diary and read through it, what a tragic, uninteresting life Oswald had lived. She decided that he'd probably prayed for death at times, but that was not the reason sleep had recurringly been denied her, she had other issues. Seeing Jena in her workout togs had made it difficult to maintain her casual bearing, though in the end she'd been betrayed by her own nipples, which found it downright hard. She'd flushed red and insisted that she be allowed to pedal the gravity bike around it's axis first, so that she could depart all the more quickly, still she could see Jena when she closed her eyes. Every time she thought of it, she felt the same thrill as she had the first time she'd kissed a girl, sending a tingle down her spine.

She quietly moaned and let her hand find the sweet spot between her legs, but the stimulation she provided herself provided no relief, not when the real deal was so close, only a few compartments away. She'd dropped subtle quips about women-on-women congress before that Jena hadn't responded to, or if she did it was merely to roll her eyes and change the subject, but she'd never denounced it, and that drove Tali to distraction.

"Fek!" She cursed and found the sleeping-bag zipper. Once floating free she opened the bun her hair was in and let it float, tickling her shoulders. She curled herself into tuck and starting spinning in the narrow compartment, just because she enjoyed it, after several revolutions she straightened out and spread her arms wide, letting conservation of angular momentum slow her to a gentle tumble that ended when her bare feet hit the bulkhead next to the viewport. "What am I going to do?"

She squatted and looked between her legs, out the viewport, hoping the stars between her feet might provide an answer, but none was forthcoming. Talk to her, Tali thought and snapped her fingers as she smiled. The answer suddenly was easy.

"It wouldn't bother me so much if I new she wouldn't want me," She said and pushed off and drifted across her quarters to the locker where her clothes were stored. "But what if she does want me? I'll have to look good."

Tali found a clean jumpsuit and decided it was enough. She dressed quickly and left through the compartment hatch, drifting toward the bridge.

"Apex Titan. Apex Titan," Jena muttered to herself and paged down through the holo-display listing the merchantmen confirmed in Sol system. The ship's computer was simultaneously running the name through it's data-cores, looking for any match. When she came to the end of the list she sat back and ran her fingers through her hair. "No Apex Titan."

Jena stopped the playback of Huxely's testimony after listening to it for the third time, removed her headset, then rubbed her stinging eyes. She'd come up with no more revelations than she had after the first and second reviews.

The bridge of the Mordicai was dim, lit only by the glow of instruments, and quiet except for the infrequent radio intercept from passing ships and the subharmonic rumble of the engines. She reclined in the command chair, alone in the compartment, the watch schedule that Tali compiled had her pulling double-shifts for the next 48 hours. A Customs Authority frigate was expected to rendezvous with them sometime inside that window. 

She retrieved the headset and donned it, then touched the switch labeled with white tape marked "detention" and said, "This is Lieutenant Mitchell. How's the situation down there?"

"He's sleeping," Came the reply from Electrician's Mate Johnson, one of the replacements sent over from Constellation hours before, one of the two guards she'd ordered to be watching Huxley at all times. "Just like he was last time you called us, ma'am."


"He may only be pretending to be sleeping," Jena corrected. She'd made a point to call down to the security area every 15 minutes, partially to keep herself awake, partially to keep the guard detail on their toes. "Remember that he's the only suspect in the butchery of twenty-nine of his shipmates. He might be looking to raise his count by two more. You get me, Ephram?"

"Yes, ma'am, perfectly," Ephram stuttered with what Jena took to be nervousness. "If he breaks wind we'll put it in the log."

"Just watch him." Jena said and closed the comm-channel. She looked down at her Krono-Tek and noted the time of her next check-in. Once the Customs Authority takes over I'm going to sleep for an entire day, she thought and sighed, then I'm going to get something decent to eat. She turned as the sound of a pressure seal breaking drew her attention aft. Tali stood at the top of the ladder attached to the overhead, waiting for the hatch to open completely, a thermal jug slung over one shoulder, gravity provided by engine thrust kept her anchored to the deck as she climbed up into the bridge.

"What are you doing here?" Jena said as Tali moved to lean against the console beside the command chair. "You're supposed to be bunked out right now. You need your rest. Especially if you're going to relieve me in another six hours."

"I couldn't sleep," Tali said and unslung the thermal jug. "You know how those things are. You close your eyes and all you can see are the same things waiting for you right where you left off."

"What was it?" Jena said as Tali opened the jug and the smell of hot coffee wafted out. She poured a small amount into the lid, a zero-g safe cup, and handed it over the console. Jena accepted the cup and cradled it in her hands, absorbing the warmth from it, although the ship was slowly being returned to normal tempertures, the bridge was still chilly.

"Nothing important," Tali said and removed a similar cup from a cargo pocket of her pressure suit. She sighed as she poured coffee into it. "I'm sure I'll get over it."

"I'm sure you will," Jena said and let a smile slowly crease her face. "Is there something that's been bothering you?"

"Just what happened to everyone," Tali said and sipped from her cup. "I'd hate to be on a cruise with someone who has a homicidal brain-burn… especially when it happens so randomly."

"Don't worry about it," Jena said and took a gulp from her own, a large one that burned her mouth as it went down, coffee went flying as she coughed. "Smleck."

"How can I NOT worry about it?" Tali said and waved a hand at the deck. "We have a guy who qualifies as a mass murderer if we can prove he did it… and there are more people like him out there."

"Fleet tests everyone for DSA," Jena said and tried to work a soothing tone into her voice. "You… me… everyone. They wouldn't have let us on board a ship if we were even susceptible… you know that."

"I know," Tali said and nodded. "But what if the tests were wrong? The thought of even having an episode scares the hell out of me. I'd rather go out an airlock without spacesuit rather than go after my shipmates. What if… what if I jumped you sometime?" 

"I wouldn't let that happen," Jena said with steel resolve. "There are treatments for it. Serenity, I don't know what our version of it's called but there's that too, worst case scenario I'd put sedate you and put you into cold sleep until we got to a colony someplace that's not in deep space… or I'd get you back to Earth. Don't worry."

The computer chirped then, a signal that it had found a match, Tali looked over Jena's shoulder as she touched a symbol-key that would display the contact. It was a text format report of a pirate attack.

"What's this?" Tali said and both leaned in close to look. Jena began reading to herself.

"A traffic-control advisory, the Apex Titan was officially declared lost in Eridani system today after radioing in a pirate attack one week ago. The Apex registered freighter was declared overdue on fourth-day/third-shift prompting a search by local militia forces which revealed found no trace of the missing ship. Until more information becomes available, its cargo and crew are presumed lost… FlashNews. Look at the date: twenty-one-eighty-four. That means it happened seven years ago."

Tali turned and felt her breath rebounding from Jena's ear, their faces close, she could feel her heart pushing blood.

"If Huxley expected the captain of Apex Titan to vouch for him, he's out of luck." Jena said and turned her head, too quickly for Tali to evade, Tali cursed as their heads rapped together. Jena rubbed the red spot on her forehead. "Sorry."

"It's all right," Tali said pushed off the back of the chair to get clear. "But maybe he knew that knew that and was just using it as his alibi. What was his name?"

"Xan Lee. Let's find out how much our friend knows." Jena said and unbuckled her harness, angling for the hatch, Tali fell in behind her.

"How much longer until the Customs Authority gets here?" Tali said and admired the way Jena filled out her pressure suit, happy that for once she could look without worry of being caught.

"Not soon enough," Jena said. "We won't get back to Constellation before the fleet gets to the jump point anyway, just try and enjoy it. Did you like Mars?"

"The people seemed friendly," Tali said. "But I guess I didn't really find anyone my type. I really wanted to see the Archeron Lava Falls on Pax Oceanus… to lay out a blanket with someone special and just… let what happens happen."

Jena laughed and said, "You never struck me as the romantic type… more like the kind that just takes what she wants, consequences be damned."

"It's an image I like to cultivate," Tali said and silently wished she could better gauge what certain consequences would be. "But the reality is that I can only take what's available."

"You never seem to have any problem with that." Jena said and smiled over her shoulder at Tali as they drifted toward the tail of the ship.

"Yes, it's usually right in front of me," Tali said and immediately regretted it in a fit of paranoia. "I mean, my Granny always said that's when things are hardest to see… of course, her eyesight was so bad that she had to wear corrective lenses… her eyes always looked totally weird."

"It usually is," Jena agreed. "Your Granny must've had special sight. She wasn't a type-three, was she?"

"Not that she ever admitted to," Tali said, happy that the subject had been changed. "Sometimes I wondered though. What about you?"

"I never asked." Jena said as they passed the junction that split a corridor off toward hatch that they had boarded the ship through.

"Lieutenant... wait up!" Someone called from behind them. Jena braked, dragging her hands against the bulkhead, slowly so Tali would have time to do likewise without crashing into her. Batty approached from the direction of the junction they'd just passed.

"What is it?" Jena said and spun in place to face the approaching medic.

"I collected toxicology samples from all of the bodies," Batty said and braked to a stop just behind the soles of Tali's boots. "The results have been analyzed. I just thought you might like to know that everyone on this ship was thick with Serenity... to get the kind of levels I found, each of them would've needed several doses per day."

"Even Huxely?" Tali said.

Batty nodded and said, "Him, too."

Jena gave Tali a curious look and said, "Did we find any tablet bottles in any of the crew compartments? Anything at all that would've indicated use?"

Tali shook her head, the action sending her into a slow roll that she quickly braced against and said, "Nothing that I've found... or heard about anyone finding. Standing orders are to report it immediately."

"That's not all," Batty said. "The analysis revealed a new compound suspended in the Serenity residue, it's synthetic, that's all I know. I found particles of it bonded to the cell walls of every victim... there's nothing like it on record. It must be something totally new."

"What do you need to find out for sure?" Jena said.

"A full scale research lab and about a month of time," Batty said. "Barring that I'd need some samples of the Serenity they were taking to analyze. There's only so much I can do with the primitive equipment we have on board here."

"Thanks," Jena said as Batty spun in place and set to return to the medical lab. "If you find anything else, I have my radio on."

"That's all for now." Batty said and pushed off in the direction she'd arrived from. Jena reached for the holster on her belt containing the handheld scanner. She removed it and pushed it across to Tali.

"Go back through the cargo holds," Jena said as Tali caught the scanner. "Use the highest setting and go through every nook and cranny. I think I missed something when I went through the last time."

"Ok, Jena... I mean, aye-aye, ma'am," Tali said and pushed off in the direction that Batty had taken. "What do I do if I find anything?"

"Call it in immediately," Jena said. "And for God's sake, don't take any. I've got some questions for our Mister Huxely."

The prisoner was asleep when Jena opened the hatch and drifted through into the dimly lit holding compartment. Seamus and Johnson, the two junior engineers assigned as guards, were nodding off but snapped to full alertness when she came through.

"I hope to Christ and Allah that you two weren't sleeping on duty." Jena barked at them and shot a glance at Huxely, who was restrained with plastic handcuffs and zipped upright to the bulkhead in a sleeping bag.

"No ma'am," Ephram stammered as Johnson nodded agreement. "Not a chance... it's just that we've been working for the last twelve hours to get the systems on this tub fixed."

"I understand," Jena said and braked to a stop. "I understand that sometimes your eyes get a little heavy when you're trying to watch someone who's doing nothing but coping z's. Just remember that if Captain Crites were here, he'd flush both of you out an airlock, but I'm not him."

Both guards relaxed and slumped forward almost simultaneously. Jena nodded toward their captive and said, "Wake him up."

"No need for that, Lieutenant," Huxely said quietly. Everyone in the compartment turned toward him. "I've been conscious since you came in. Has the Customs Authority finally arrived?"

"Not yet," Jena said and drifted closer to him. "But I'm happy you're awake. There are some things I'd like to discuss."

"Like my release?" Huxely said with mock hopefulness that theatrically died as Jena shook her head.

"No," Jena said. "You're being held like this for our own protection... since there's noone left alive onboard to corroborate your story. I just had a talk with my medical tech. She says that everyone on board, excluding the captain who seems to be missing, was blood-rich with Serenity. You know what that is... don't you?"

"I doubt there's anyone in the human sphere who doesn't." Huxely said. "What does this have to do with me?"

"Where'd you get it?" Jena said. "We searched your quarters and didn't find even an empty bottle with the Transterran logo on it, much less what it would've taken for you all to have blood-levels that we found."

"Is your medic competent?" Huxely said.

"Very competent," Jena said. "She isn't the type to make mistakes doing simple blood tests. Now where did you get it?"

Huxely seemed to shrug within the sleeping bag. "Maybe it was in the water ration we were issued every day. Maybe it was in our food rations. Captain liked to have a docile crew."

"Just like the Apex Titan?" Jena said and relished the confused look that played across Huxely's face. "Who was your Captain then?"

"If you're trying to trick me for whatever reason, it won't work," Huxely said. "I know what you all suspect me of and it's only natural, but I'm innocent."

"Your guilt or innocence is a matter for the courts," Jena said. "But if you're guilty, I've heard very interesting things about the SolMax DeepCore. I hear that cannibals live near the bottom levels. Where do you think a man with twenty-nine homicides to his record will go."

"I wouldn't know," Huxely said. "And I'm not planning on finding out… not as long as I get a fair trial. I know I couldn't get one here, on this ship, not when you and your entire crew have already pre-judged me."

"We're just trying to establish the facts," Jena said and was interrupted by the call signal coming through her earpiece. She turned away from Huxely. "What is it?"

"It's me," Tali radioed in. "I'm down in cargo bay three. You'd better get down here."

"I'm on the way," Jena said and made for the hatch. She stopped to address her guards. "Your shift is up in a few hours. Just stick it out. You can sleep then."

"Yes, ma'am." Ephram and Johnson replied. Jena nodded and went to find Tali.

She found her floating next to a cargo container amid a cloud of purple gel-capsules. The container, had it been filled with grain, looked as if a gigantic rat had gnawed through the side and spilled some of the contents. She knew the capsules on sight… Serenity.

"There are four containers all labeled the same, but it looks like someone went to work on the side of this one with a knife or a drill to get at what was inside," Tali said and waved a hand at the pills floating around her. She held a portable vaccuum device in her other hand. "Cargo had been shifted to cover the holes, but when I exposed them all these came out before I could stop it."

"How much do you think is in there?" Jena said and waved at the container. It was labeled "Computer Parts- AI memory- Cat. #0903."

"I'm guessing at least a few hundred thousand doses," Tali said and shrugged. "No telling how many doses were taken out."

"Drug runners," Jena said as Tali lifted the vaccuum and began sucking up the cloud of pills around them. "We got us a drug running ship. If the solar storm hadn't knocked out their navigation we probably would've never found them. Christ and Allah."

Tali nodded her agreement and said, "What do you want me to do with this stuff? What if the crew gets into it?"

"Don't tell anyone about it," Jena said and brushed away the capsules that brushed against her lips. "I've got some transmissions to send. Customs is going to be all over this. Once you get done cleaning up this mess… and that means all of it… come find me again."

Tali nodded and hoped that Jena had missed the bulges of the capsules that already filled her breast pockets. No way was she ever going to have a mental meltdown that could cost the lives of her friends… not when she had a remedy so easily at hand… just in case. 

***

Sol-3/Earth

Leda slept alone in her own bed. The hiring season didn't begin for several months and with Ajax gone, her list of "clients" was limited to interviews with existing personnel in the Research and Development department, reading them for any signs of disloyalty or impropriety.

She dreamed of floating in zero-g, in space, yet she was without a spacesuit. The starfield, with its millions of points of light, was almost tangible, as if the starcape of Mithras was embracing her within its glittering folds. Something she could not discern was pulling at her, towing her along an uncertain path through the solar system. She passed Mars and Jupiter, then Saturn but began slowing as she came to green Neptune. As she watched it spin, a dark line running north and south from pole to pole rotated into view and stopped when it faced her. The split slowly opened, revealing an orange sphere beneath the green surface, striated with red lines that began at the center of the sphere and radiated outward. When the split snapped shut and opened again she realized several things: that she was looking at an eye that had just blinked, that the eye was looking at her, and that it was nothing human. She blinked and there were several Neptunes, like Jade pearls strung on the same necklace, pearls that opened into eyes and set to watching her.


Outworld Asylum



Leda woke and rubbed her hands over her face, then she sat up and looked at the clock sitting the nightstand next to her bed… 4:15 A.M. She ran her fingers through her hair, allowed her arms to fall, and said, "Christ and Allah."

The feeling at the base of her spine was a chill of unease that refused to allow her any more rest for the time being, so she threw back the covers and rolled off the air cushion mattress. She padded down the steps and into the kitchen in her gossamer nightgown. The display on the refrigerator indicated ½ carton of Milk, so she opened the door and removed the carton to pour herself a glass that, once consumed, was usually enough to calm her stomach.

She took the glass and carried to the computer station in the living room, set the glass down and sat herself at the ergonomic chair she'd "liberated" from her office the year before. Her system was linked to the Lands-Connect global network, her primary source for news, chat, shopping, and other diversions. She had a particular address bookmarked and visited frequently… SecondSite… a secure interactive group used and maintained by Type-3's. The gateway appeared with a prompt demanding "LOGIN." Her username was Lanterngirl. The AI that controlled the site would interact with her while she was logged on, asking questions about her welfare and social activities to validate her identity for the duration of her visit. When she entered the interchange, four screens opened and began scrolling the text of various dialogues going on, giving her the chance to familiarize herself with the topics of discussion before tapping in to the audio feeds. She recognized the user ID of someone she was friendly with, user-name Ravenclaw, and touched on the box the name was contained in… Leda assumed Ravenclaw was a he… and entered the dialogue. A greeting from him appeared almost instantaneously. 

"There's a lot of people awake tonight," Leda said and looked down the list of users connected to the site… more than 500… no faces, just names. "Is it always this busy?"

"I'm a night person so I'm usually up," Ravenclaw said. "But it's never this busy. I'm starting to get a little worried."

"Why? What are people talking about?" Leda said and sipped from her glass. "Catch me up."

"I don't know…" Ravenclaw said. "It seems like everyone is on edge tonight but noone is quite sure why. There's a lot of paranoia… people are talking about feelings of being watched… or about bad dreams. I'm not sure what to make of it."

"Has anyone talked to Tallbridge?" She said and leaned forward on her elbows. The user ID's for the most talented Type-3's she knew were not on the list. "Or what about Valentina? What do they say?"

Ravenclaw shrugged and said, "Tallbridge was in here earlier. He said that he's sure there's something going on in Sol system but he's not sure what. He said that he didn't think it was necessarily bad and advised everyone to stay calm. Did you get a reading?"

"Like everyone else apparently," Leda said. "Just the odd feeling that I was under observation by someone or something. For some reason I got the impression that Neptune was involved."

"It's confirmed then," Ravenclaw said. "You're not the only one who got that. I just wish we had one of our people out there to give us some firsthand reads. I guess we could FOIA the NorCom government but you know how long that takes. It takes less time just to wait for Pan-galactic to report it."

"No point in doing that," Leda said and watched her words appear as text in the dialogue scroll. "We can't expect them to tell us anything we don't already know. Do we have anyone on any ships that are outbound?"

"I hadn't thought of that," Ravenclaw said… his accent marked him as Norcom-Canadian. "I wish Argent were here. He'd know what to make of all this."

"SOLCorp has him on lockdown," Leda said and sighed. Argent was especially good at interpreting signs but his parent company, the interstellar fuel conglomerate, was not big on sharing his talents. "Totally incommunicado. He's been off the radar for months."

"I'm AWARE of that," Ravenclaw drawled and was silent for several moments. When he spoke again there was an uncertain weariness in his voice that wasn't there before. "I just hope Bainbridge is right. The last time we were all worked up like this was right before the Procyon Crisis and before that… the Neo-Colonial War."

"All before my time," Leda said and drained her glass. "But if that's the case then all we can hope for is the best."

"Is that what you're telling your controllers at TIL… hope for the best?"

"I doubt they'll ask," Leda said and wondered if Artemis Cutter knew anything about the developing situation around Neptune that she didn't. "I'm sure if it were anything serious, they'd have greater minds than ours working on it."

Ravenclaw snorted and said, "Speak for yourself, sister."

As she was about to logout, a text line from Carat, of Lagos, Nigerian Republic, caught her eye. Silver is hot and flows away. Argent was the Latin name for Silver. Immediately a thought popped into her head. That he was in dangerous circumstances. Persecution of Type-3's by small-minded paranoids was nothing new. It had been happening for over 1000 years, starting with the Mediveal period of Old Earth. A period recalled by many Type-3's as "the burning times." 

*** 

SS Mordicai

"What happened to the Captain?" Jena wondered aloud as she paged down through lists of actions the computer logged as having been ordered and completed since the ship entered Sol system. "How did he get off the ship?"

According to the logs, the waste containment systems onboard were flushed every 24 hours, and had been shortly after the ship emerged from transit. An airlock had been opened when the ship was 4 days into the system. There was no record of the ship's boat being detached for any amount of time, nor was there a record of any outside craft docking with the ship during that same period, nothing was logged as coming anywhere close. There were no direct radio contacts except with Tau Beacon. All of her search queries had been exhausted when a red light on the dark communications panel caught her attention as it began blinking. The ship was being hit with a transmission.

She unbuckled herself from the command chair and floated across the bridge to the commo station. Once she had lowered herself into the seat mounted in front of it, she patched the feed through to her headset and depressed the flashing button.

"SS Mordai… Lieutenant Mitchell speaking," She said and took her finger off the button. "Go ahead."

"This is the Customs Authority frigate number twenty-two-oh-eight," The reply came back almost instantly. "Captain Chubb speaking. We have you in sight and expect to rendezvous within twenty minutes, over."

"Glad you could join us," Jena said and shivered as she felt the weight of a planet lift off her shoulders. "We've been expecting you, over."

"Affirmative, Mordicai," Came the reply. "Forgive our tardiness… it's been a busy few days."

The Customs frigate was much smaller than the Mordicai, but even so was enough to deliver a jolt to the larger freighter as it docked, Jena could feel it through the hull. After the shock passed, the screeching sound of the docking collar being engaged came through the hull. She waited outside the main boarding hatch for the cavalry to arrive. After several moments she heard the sound of someone banging on the outer hatch with a wrench and authorized the computer to open it. A man in a Customs Authority uniform was the first one through and saluted her as best he could without gravity.

"Are you Lieutenant Mitchell?" He said. Jena nodded. "I'm Lieutenant Bower… ship's first officer. Captain Chubb sends his regards and asks if there's anything you need urgently."

"Just to get the hell off this ship and back on solid ground," Jena said and sighed. Behind Bower she could see a relief crew ready to board. "We have one prisoner under guard. I need him transferred to your ship as soon as possible. I assume you have a holding area?"

Bower nodded and said, "Yes ma'am. A proper brig."

"This way," Jena said and drifted toward the interior of the Mordicai. "The sooner we get him transferred the better. Then one Mister Huxely is not my problem anymore."

***

Sol-4/Mars

The Customs Authority facility took up a large area of the Olympus Mons spaceport. Viewed from orbit, the structure resembled a rectangle placed near the southern rim of the large crater the spaceport was built into. At ground level the facility took on more massive proportions... as long as a soccer stadium and five levels high. The frigate FF-2208 detached from the Mordicai, descended to the surface, and threw up a cloud of gray dust as it landed outside the line of demarkation strobes flashing around the building. A transfer crawler rolled up beside the ship and extended a conduit that locked onto the ventral docking collar.

"I'm not sure what the protocol in this situation is but if the prisoner is as guilty as you believe him to be, he forfiets all rights to salvage and so it should transfer to you and your crew," Captain Chubb of FF-2208 said as he opened the hatch and stepped through into the conduit. He was of medium build but had broad shoulders that required a pause to manuever through the hatch. "The value of the freighter alone is probably worth several million... that's without taking into account the value of the cargo. I'd say you and your people are about to become quite happy."

"I'll be happy if Huxely gets the DeepCore for what he's done," Jena said and ducked her head under the hatchway to followed Vivaldi through. It felt strange to be back to Mars so soon. "And when I get back to the Constellation I'll be ecstatic."

"Command asked us to bring you along once we made orbit," Chubb said as he led off down the conduit for the crawler. "They found something that might have a bearing on your case."

"What is it?" Jena said distractedly as she watched workers in spacesuits moving around the FF-2208's heavy landing gear, each strut as big around as a large Oak tree.

"A body," Chubb said and Jena was immediately attentive again. "Dressed in an Outworld Alliance uniform identified with the SS Mordicai. It's been transported from the Triton Solcorp station to our facility here. Command wanted you to have a look at it. There's only one problem."

"What's that?"

"It's radioactive," Chubb said as he reached the open hatch of the crawler and stepped inside. "The Solcorp people couldn't get close enough to do an examination so they sent it to us inside a lead-shielded box."

He dropped into a padded seat. Jena sat in the one beside him.

"The solar storm really put a strain on our resources," He continued as Jena complied and strapped herself in. "We've got ships in distress out there that we still haven't gotten to. Command got wind of your situation with the Mordicai and gave it priority. Wherever there's a scandal there's always someone waiting to take advantage of it. I guess some people are sniffing for a promotion."

Jena removed the small case she'd stored the Serentity samples in from a cargo pocket and shook it. She offered it to him and said, "Can I ask a favor?"

Chubb took the box and, with a quizzical look, said, "Of course."

"There are some samples in there that I need analyzed," Jena said as he opened the box. "We found them onboard the Mordicai. All we could tell is that there's an unknown compound worked into the ingredients that we couldn't identify. I'm hoping your people can."

"Serenity... the real Transterran kind... interesting," Chubb said and capped the sample box. "Where did you find these?"

"Inside the crew quarters," Jena lied. "Bio samples from all the victims showed that they were full of this stuff... only our medic thought that it was manufactured using a different formula. I'm curious to know what the extra ingredients do."

"No problem," Chubb said and slid the sample box into his breast pocket. "I'll deliver the results to you personally. Of course, this may raise other questions that command will need answering."

"At this point I've got nothing but time," Jena said. "I appreciate your help, captain. The Customs Authority has been most gracious."

"Think nothing of it," Chubb said and looked over his shoulder as Tali and the rest of Jena's crew began filling the seats behind them. "If you're free later I'd be honored if you'd join me for dinner. Have you ever been to the Harvest House? They have the finest Martian cuisine on the planet."

"Once," Jena said and thought of Hurricane as the crawler uncoupled from the frigate and began moving, rolling forward toward a massive door opening in the front of the Customs Authority structure. "And I enjoyed myself thoroughly. I'd be happy to make a return visit."

Jena turned as Tali cleared her throat.

"Have we been booked on any ships heading for the frontier yet?" Tali whispered and gave Captain Chubb a hostile look. The Customs Authority officer was preoccupied with a transmission from the frigate so it went unnoticed.

"Not yet," Jena said. "Command needs us here for the time being. They haven't specified a departure date. We stopped being masters of our own destiny when we signed up for the Navy. Keep that in mind."

"Ok, Jena. I mean, aye-aye, ma'am."

Hazardous containment was on the second level, above the pressurized vehicle garages, and once the transfer crawler was empty, Chubb led her to a lift and up to the next floor, nearly deserted except for the few Customs Authority people lingering at the observation window built into one particular room.

"This is it," Chubb said and waved the onlookers aside. Jena stepped up to the window and peered through. Several people in protective suits could be seen moving around a body laid out on an examination table. "You'll need to change if you want to have a closer look."

Jena nodded and reached for the door switch but Chubb stopped her with a hand to her arm. When she turned to him he said, "I'll take the samples you wanted up to the lab and meet you back here in an hour."

"Fine." Jena said and triggered the door to the anteroom just inside. Several hooded, full-length protective suits hung from pegs screwed into the wall. She found one that was patched with sealant tape and scuffed in places but it fit. Work going on around the body stopped as she triggered the interior door and stepped through.

"Stop! Who are you! What's your clearance?" The group leader said and held up a hand as she came into the examination room. 

"Jena Mitchell, NorCom fleet. My team and I brought the Mordicai in," Jena said, her words were muffled by the facemask of the hood protecting her head. "Command wanted me to have a look at the body."

"Ok, you're expected," The team leader, identified as Rico by his nametag, waved her closer until both stood at the foot of the metal examination table. "Subject is a male, approximately fifty years of age, graying hair, beard. Cause of death is negative pressure trauma and exposure to hard vacuum."

"This is him alright," Jena said as she let her eyes drift up to the frozen face of the deceased. "The captain of the Mordicai. I guess now I know who he got off the ship."

"How can you tell?" Rico said.

"He's the one that made all the entries into the ships log," Jena said and several objects resting on a smaller table next to the body caught her attention. Something metal the size of a Old Earth matchbox, several ID cards, a heart locket on a gold chain. She nodded toward them. "That tells me he was in command. What're these?"

"Personal effects we've found so far," Rico said as Jena moved to examine what they'd found. She picked up the box first. It was light and filled with circuitry. "That's a rescue transponder. It's good thing he had it on him, otherwise- who knows, he may never have been found."

"I know," Jena said and set the ball back down on the tabletop. "Captain Chubb briefed me fully once he took over the Mordicai."

The name on the various ID's was Joseph Conrad. She'd never known his name before. Captain Conrad was smiling in all the pictures, a warm, pleasant grin different from the rictus of death frozen into the face of the body on the table. Jena turned as she heard something clicking-crackling. A technician was sweeping over Conrad's body with a small Geiger counter. During its time in orbit the body had absorbed significant radiation.

"Is this it?"

"We haven't been searching long," Rico said. "Only for ten minutes before you got here. Why do you ask?"

"This doesn't make sense," Jena said and let her eyes travel the length of the body in front of her. "Why would someone take an unsuited spacewalk with a rescue transponder in his pocket?"

Her mind raced. If Huxely put the Captain out an airlock then why would he want the body to be found? To make a point? To make a spectacle? Her mind cycled through the many interviews between Huxely and Judicial Advocate that she'd sat through. Huxely had, from hour-1, maintained that the Captain was homicidal but never mentioned how he found his way outside the ship. If Huxely helped him out then why would he want the body to be found?

The truth came as a flash, insight filling her head like an atom bomb blast, she knew- finally she knew. Jena turned to Rico and said, "There's a confession in one of these pockets. I'm sure of it."

They found a folded paper hidden in the dead man's back pocket. Rico opened it and read through the contents aloud.

"I killed them. The blood of my crew is on my hands. My faithful ship, my Mordicai, has become a tomb thanks only to the madness that I cannot control. I have betrayed all trust placed in me by the Outworld Alliance and by those who served under my command. I can no longer endure the memories of their gruesome faces, or hear the sounds of their screams ringing in my mind. I am guilty and so sentence myself to the death I deserve. I commit myself to the great, eternal void. May God have mercy on my soul," Rico offered the paper to her and said, "How did you know?"

Jena accepted the note and read the handwritten lines. She folded the paper again, set it with the artifacts of Mordicai's dead captain and said, "Because someone needed an alibi."

***

Huxely sat alone on the foam mattress spread out on the floor of his well-lit cell. By prison standards it was spacious and had enough room for three more people. Martians, however, could not spare the resources to support a prison population. Their criminals, upon conviction, were sent directly to SolMax.

"There've been some new developments regarding the Mordicai. When our people were unloading the cargo, they found several cargo containers filled with an illegal product… Serenity… several bulk tons worth."

Jena turned away from the observation window as Chubb came up behind her. She managed a surprised look and said, "You're kidding."

"Not about something like this," Chubb said and leaned forward to look into the cell at their prisoner. "The rough estimate is that the seizure was worth several tens of millions of credits. Word of it got leaked to the press and now they're all over us. So this is him, huh?"

"Yes."

"He doesn't look that dangerous," Chubb said and looked away from the cell to her. "He's so skinny that I could probably punch a hole through his chest."

"Maybe so, but he's smart," Jena said and folded her arms across her chest. "He's probably laughing to himself as we speak about getting away with mass murder. I'd love to flush him out an airlock… just to see the look on his face as he depressurizes."

"You seem so sure… but there's just no evidence," Chubb said and shook his head. "I know how you feel and I'm sorry to say that… but I've seen what you and your people collected and there's nothing that proves he did it. We can't try a case on circumstance."




Outworld Asylum



"I know." Jena said and fought to restrain the anger and disappointment welling up within her.

"The results from the samples you gave me came back," Chubb said absently as he turned and contemplated Huxely in his cell again. "They tested positive as Serenity but with an unidentified, synthetic additive to the formula. Our labs boys call it 'the gatekeeper.'"

"What does it do?" Jena said, interested, as Chubb sat on a nearby bench provided for observers.

"I asked them that and got a thirty minute disertation on Pharmacology," Chubb said and sighed. "I'm going from memory here… forgive me if I'm uncertain about parts."

"You're forgiven," Jena said and smiled as she moved to sit next to him on the bench. "Please continue."

"It boils down to this- Serenity is a narcotic compound used to treat DSA… it acts at a cellular level. Narcotics increase the metabolism of the cell over time so that a larger dose is needed to get the same effect… but this new type of Serenity doesn't do that. Instead the gatekeeper bonds with receptor sites in the cell and blocks the uptake of any similar drug formulated without the gatekeeper included. It's wicked stuff."

"What does this mean?" Jena said and frowned as she tried to wrap her mind around the problem.

"It means that Transterran has just taken a serious step toward protecting its patents," Chubb said and leaned in closer to her. "It means that every dose of generic Serenity produced across the human sphere has just been made useless," His voice took on a grave tone as he shook his head. "Nothing happens unless it's the real stuff from Transterran… no matter how much the user takes. They go into withdrawl… and add that to whatever DSA symptoms they might need to treat. What've you got?"

Jena nodded with understanding and said, "A nightmare."

"It's possible that our friend there might've been suffering from a similar condition… and would still go to SolMax but not to the DeepCore," Chubb said and nodded toward the holding cell. "Unless we can prove that he attacked his shipmates in a premeditated fashion… he'd be judged insane."

"I've got an idea," Jena said and got to her feet. "How far back is the guard station? I need to get in to see him."

Huxely lifted his eyes from their fixation on the floor when the door to his containment cell opened. He smiled when Jena stepped through holding an old fashioned clipboard. She turned to the guards waiting outside.

"This will only take a few minutes." She instructed them, drawing nods from both, who then took up positions outside the door.

"Lieutenant Mitchell, I'm so happy to see you," Huxely said and leered as he stared hard at her. "I wish I had something to offer you. On second thought, I do have something you might enjoy, if I thought you'd take it. You know what they say about all work and no play."

"Thanks, but I already have a date for tonight," Jena said, distracted, as she flipped through the sheets of hardcopy attached to the clipboard. She signed her name on several pages and offered it across to Huxely. "Print your name and sign on the lines I've indicated, please. If you have any comments to make about the way you've been treated in Fleet care, note them on the back."

Huxely frowned as he took the clipboard, briefly fingered through the contents, and said, "What's this?"

"It's a transfer," Jena said and glanced impatiently at her Kronos. "Specifically out of my custody. After tonight you're Customs' problem."

"You mean I'm being released?" Huxely said and brightened as she offered him the ink pen she'd borrowed from the security detail. "Thank God… I've been going crazy in here."

"Not yet," Jena said as he continued to scan through the text on each sheet. It was a proper transfer of custody form. "But now Customs gets to babysit you. That's all I care about right now."

"No need to be impatient, Lieutenant," Huxely said slowly. "How come you're using this old format instead of a datapad?"

"If there were datapads available we'd use them," Jena said with a trace of weariness in her voice. She yawned and pinched the bridge of her nose between thumb and forefinger. "But there aren't… so we have to do it the old-fashioned way."

"There's nothing wrong with doing it the old-fashioned way," Huxely said as he put pen to paper and scratched out his name on all the places Jena had marked with an X. He leered at her. "What about you?"

"Just sign the papers, ass," Jena said and scowled at him. "Citizen ID number, too… if you've got one from Sol system."

Huxely, happy to have provoked a reaction, laughed and said, "Relax, lieutenant… I'm just having some fun. I'm sure that you'll be off heading for the frontier again before long. I can understand how we didn't really hit it off on the ship but I've heard you laugh before. It's really very nice. I think we'd have fun together… once I get out of here, that is."

"Not if the survival of the human species depended on it," Jena said. She shook her head, unable to hide her disgust. "You and I are not friends. I don't like you and I haven't since I met you."

"I'm no monster," Huxely said and turned the first over to the blank side. "I'll even do you a favor…" He read aloud as he scribbled down a note. "Lieutenant Jena Mitchell displayed outstanding courtesy and professionalism while rendering aid to a disabled vessel. She is a credit to her service and to the Northern Combine."

He slapped the pen down onto the clipboard and smiled as he handed it back. "See? I'm really not a bad guy."

"That's for a court to decide." Jena said as she collected the clipboard and turned on her heel. She rapped on the door with clipboard and, when the door opened, stepped past the guards outside without further comment. Later computer analysis of the writing samples taken from Captain Conrad's "confession" and the note Huxely jotted indicated a 98% match.

*** 

The Harvest House was full but Chubb was as good as his word. The only other revel-house on the planet was located in the Understreets quarter of the prime settlement. The name at the entrance was "Pleasure Dome," for the structure was indeed a dome. Beside the name, also in lights, were the words "PRIVATE." Non-members were admitted on a case by case basis decided by the large, off-world men watching the entrance. The Customs Authority kept several memberships active for the purpose of entertaining important guests. It had been decided that Jena qualified. The line to get in was long but moved quickly. 

"Jena! Over here… Jena!" A voice called from behind her. Jena turned as she recognized Tali's voice and did a double-take. Tali was dressed in a minimal outfit of silver mesh with her brown hair sprayed pink. The woman accompanying her looked even more fantastic. Approximately Jena's own height and stature, with dyed orange hair and vacant green eyes, clearly she was local... a Martian. Jena couldn't begin to guess where Tali had found her. Most striking about her was her outfit for the evening's entertainment… black body spray that covered her from head to toe. Phosphorescent beads, laid in intricate patterns that flashed red, green, blue, and yellow when she moved, were adhered to her skin. The woman looked exotic and oddly inhuman.

"Tali? What are you doing?" Jena shouted in shock and amusement. Tali smiled when she and her companion drew up next to them, provoking a burst of outrage from the patrons behind them that Tali ignored.

"Gabrielle, let me introduce you to my friends," Tali said and smiled as she pulled the girl closer. "This is Jena and Captain Chubb of the Customs Authority. Guys, this is Gabrielle. Isn't she great?"

Jena shook her head with disbelief and offered a hand forward. Two strategically place strips of black cloth kept Gabrielle from total indecency but threatened to come lose as the girl lifted a hand to Jena's. Captain Chubb gave the girl a tight smile and bowed slightly.

"Step up please," A doorman called. "How many?"

"Customs Authority… admit two," Chubb said as he removed a membership card from his pocket and swiped it through the reader the doorman offered forward. He saw the crestfallen look on Tali's face when he returned the card to his pocket. After a regretful sigh, he added, "Make that four."

Booths lined the perimeter of the Pleasure Dome. Each one could seat four and were tagged to the membership cards of those present by first-come-first-serve.

"Word of the siezure of the Mordicai somehow got leaked," Chubb said and signaled for service from the Pleasure Dome attendants. "Now the press is all over us. News teams from all over the system are converging on Mars. We've never seen anything like it."


Jena dropped her head into her hands and said, "Christ and Allah."

"They can't help you now." Chubb said and smiled as the server, a compact Honda, pulled up to their table and stopped. Chubb ordered a #1- Triton Tank Swill. Jena looked at the holo-list slowly rolling down one section of the dome and ordered a #7- Ares Lager. Tali ordered for herself and Gabrielle but Jena wasn't listening.

"What's that supposed to mean? Jena said as she lifted her head... suddenly concerned. The look on her face caused Chubb to laugh.

"The first person they began screaming for was the person in command of the Mordicai," Chubb said as the Honda rolled away. "That would be you... sorry."

"Did you hear that?" Tali said from across the table, a broad smile on her face, Gabrielle looked on impassively. "You're famous, Jena!"

"Apparently a few have already researched your background with the Fleet and discovered your previous posting," Chubb said and squinted as he watched the Honda disappear in the direction of the dispensing bar. "They're calling you Constellation Connie. Isn't that lovely?"

"Stellar," Jena said without feeling it. "What am I supposed to do?"

"Fleet command should be contacting you sometime soon," Chubb said as the Honda reappeared next to their booth. "In the meantime, I suggest that you refer any news teams to the nearest fleet liaison office, don't tell them anything that your command hasn't authorized."

"I just wanted to see the frontier!" Jena wailed and ran her fingers through her hair. After a moment of silence she smiled again and shook her head. "But… I guess I've got the rest of my life to do that. I don't want to be a hundred and stuck in some nursing home thinking I've missed something in life."

"Brilliant!" Tali cried and sprang from her seat. She led Gabrielle onto the dance floor, beneath the giant hologram of the virtual band "Milo's Mind's-eye," where they began writhing together to the music, arms and legs intertwined, drawing stares from the locals and the military types idling around them. Tali's eyes, when lit by one of the many rotating lights around the dance floor, were fixed on her shipmate.

***

The accommodations provided by the Customs Authority were less grandiose that what Jena was used to… a place on the ground level of a half-finished habitat dome set away from the rest of the colony proper. The sections capable of supporting life were being filled with people. With her travel-bag over her shoulder, she made her way down the hallway toward her dwelling, stepping over or around the people using the narrow passage as a common area. Small cooking pots, called "grub'ins" by the natives, were heated over can-sized electric stoves by parents dressed in baggy/sturdy Martian casual wear. The smell of hot food made her stomach rumble. There was laughter… and the cries of children… and broad smiles from the people sitting along the walls that met her eyes… people from every race born of Earth. The only free space was at the end of the hall in front of the apartment assigned to her.

"Some place," Jena said quietly to herself when the door opened and she saw how small her apartment was. "How do people raise kids in here?"

The door slid closed as she threw her travel-bag onto the single bed. Jena turned as there was a knock and touched the "open" switch. An old woman with a smile on her weather-wrinkled face and Martian garb stood framed in the doorway. She offered forward a steaming bowl filled with what appeared to be stew.

"Take it, sheba-nu," The woman said, her voice rasping, and pushed the bowl into Jena's hands. "This be no easy to be when you come here. Food be strength… yes? You need all you need."

"I don't know what to say," Jena said and looked from the bowl into her eyes. "Thank you."

"You cook on fourth day." The woman said and laughed as she stepped out of the doorway and moved down the hall to the empty spot in front of the grub'in she tended. Jena closed the door and lifted the bowl to her face, drawing in a deep breath, then she smiled and set the bowl aside to let it cool.

"Fourth day…. right." Jena said and wondered what she was supposed to do then. Learn how to work a grub'in, she thought to herself and dropped onto the bed. She laughed as her travel bag was catapulted toward the ceiling.

She rolled over and scanned the room as something inside it began peeping an incessant, electronic tone, her eyes settled on the 4x6 vid-com built into the wall. A red light on the face of it was winking. She sat up and touched the light. The vid-com screen came on displaying a message that her call was being put through. A young man in a white naval uniform appeared.

"Lieutenant Mitchell?" He said after pulling back to allow his face to be framed in her view. "I'm Ensign Devron of Home Fleet. I've been told to contact you regarding new instructions."

"Go ahead." Jena said and patted down her pockets for a tool to write with. Her Sanyo datapad was packed at the bottom of her travel bag along with the SS Mordicai patch she kept as a souvenir.

"Effective immediately, you've been transferred to Home Fleet," Devron said. Her thoughts of being given the name and departure date for the ship that would take her to the frontier were banished in an instant. "Commander in chief, SOL system, is transferring his flag to the Elysium Holdfast near your location. You're expected to sign in there by twelve hundred hours tommorow."

"Acknowledged," Jena said then added, "Who's the new boss?"

"Admiral Kinkaid." The ensign said dryly.

Jena was shocked at the news and knew it showed. "I thought they only thawed him out when there was a war going on?" She said. "How long's it been? Ten years? Since the Procyon crisis at least."

"Given the recent contraband seizures, NorCom has decided that greater efforts must be made to stem the flow. Someone with greater asset management skills was required. Admiral Hagan was relieved of his command and replaced by Admiral Kinkaid as of sixteen hundred hours yesterday."

"Thank you, Ensign Devron, you've been very helpful." Jena said and killed power to the vid-com before Devron could reply. The rudeness of it occurred to her in hindsight, but she had rank. Devron was only an Ensign. She collected her thoughts and dialed a new number into the vid-com. A very sleepy looking Tali appeared on screen.

"Hello?" She mumbled as she ran fingers through her short cropped hair. "This better be smlecking important."

"It's me," Jena said and Tali noticably brightened. She smiled and leaned closer toward the camera on her end, her face filling the screen. "I just wanted to tell you that I've gotten my new orders. I've been reassigned to Home Fleet. I start tomorrow."

"That's wonderful!" Tali said. "I've talked to Kelly and Moralez. They got transferred, too, they're on Tigerwolf. We'll all still be on the same team."

"Did you get your orders yet?" Jena said. Tali sighed and shook her head. "Why not? Have you talked to anybody?"

"You know how the system works," Tali said. "The personnel officers are never around when you need them. I'm sure my orders are in the pipeline somewhere."

An irritated groan came from Tali's end but not from Tali, whose eyes grew wide, her mouth flapped open and shut several times but no noise came out.

"I'm sorry," Jena said and smiled at the look on her friend's face. "I didn't know you were with someone."

"Nice talking with you but I have to go." Tali said and reached forward. The screen went dark as she abruptly severed the connection.

Jena stared at the blank screen for a moment and then let herself fall back onto the small bed, suddenly realizing that in the week it had taken to bring the Mordicai in, she'd gotten only 30 hours of intermittent sleep, she closed her eyes and allowed it to catch up with her.

***

SOL-3/Earth

"Whatever it is, we don't think it's human," Leda said as she looked out of Cutter's office windows at the urban panorama beneath them. "It doesn't feel human. The power we sense out there is something far beyond anything we've encountered before."

"Could it be a machine of some kind?" Cutter said, elbows on his desk, fingers steepled and tapping his chin. "I have to remind you that we've encountered Xenoforms on some colony worlds but no intelligence capable of faster-than-light travel. Hell, everything we've encountered hasn't had more intelligence than the domesticated dog. The one's we haven't enhanced anyway."

"It's not a machine," Leda said and turned away from the window. Cutter's concerned eyes followed her to the plush chair in front of his desk. "Machines don't radiate like this. This is like a supernova going off in my head. I can't even sleep."

"You're not prone to DSA are you?" Cutter said, provoking an angry glare from Leda, who shook her head.

"I've never even been off-planet, much less out-system," Leda said. "And if you're implying that I'm making this up, I'm telling you that everyone I know whose got even a trace of active Psi feels something out there."

"Around Neptune." Cutter stated flatly.

"Neptune or someplace farther out," Leda said and crossed her arms over her chest. "Neptune is being interpreted as some kind of border or boundary."

"Well, you're right there," Cutter said and leaned back in his chair. "The beacon line is as far as Pluto and they're fully automated. Neptune is the last manned outpost in this system… a SOLCorp station, what else?"

"That's all," Leda said and rubbed her eyes. "No. It isn't. As my duty to advise you on matters regarding the security of this company, many of my people are scared."

"Are these people reliable?" Cutter said as he sat up, now intensely interested. "How accurate have they been?"

"They're new… a couple of unregistered talents," Leda said and opened her eyes a second after they'd closed. "Nobody I know personally, so I can't vouch for their accuracy, they might be hoaxers. It's happened before… especially since noone else is getting the same impressions."

"If Ajax were here we could send him out there to take a look," Cutter said, mostly to himself, but looked into her eyes as if searching for guidance. "Damn it! What the hell am I supposed to tell the CEO? That our type-three's have their panties in a bunch of something that I can't directly verify?"

"Even if he were here there isn't much that could be done," Leda said to the clearly exasperated Cutter. "Our competitors are watching us for moves. They have talents under contract just like we do who are telling them the same things. If we moved first it could unleash a wave of scout ships that might do more harm than good."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"There are always misunderstandings when we confront the unknown," Leda said quietly. "Who knows what they could lead to."

"Then we'll have to take it slowly," Cutter said and reached for the handset of his antique desk phone. "But the security of this company depends on our ability to analyze potential threat. We need some people on scene."

Leda felt her heart jump as an idea formed in her mind. She leaned forward over Cutter's desk and said, "I'll go."




Outworld Asylum



"Maybe when the time is right." Cutter said.

***

Sol-4/Mars

Elysium Holdfast was a large Aztec-style pyramid that squatted on the side of the extinct volcano, Elysium Mons. The spaceport built into its summit was lit by a steady series of landings and departures but was strictly for military use. The airspace around the base was protected by the heaviest planetary defenses outside Earth.

"All passengers prepare for arrival. Please have identification ready at debarkation point." A pleasant female voice came through hidden speakers into the passenger cabin. Jena took a deep breath and glanced out the window as the passenger airship she'd boarded at Goddard colony began a slow descent. Below her, spread out across the dusty, red plains, whole regiments of armored infantry and vehicles moved in formation toward an unknown training objective. She activated her data-monocle, waited for it to come to life, then touched the channel preset button for the news station she occasionally watched. The virtual news anchor was male this time.

"Customs Authority now confirm reports of a massive seizure of Transterran Pharacueticals products found on the Outworld Alliance frieghter Mordicai. The crew of the Mordicai is currently being detained on charges of smuggling and other piracy related offenses. The case is scheduled for presentation to the magistrate by the end of fifth-day... seventy-two hours from now. Prosecutors indicate that the amount of evidence collected is overwhelming enough to convict before the trial period expires. Defense attorneys are not talking to members of the media before the trial begins."

It had taken hours to load the airship and two more to reach Elysium Holdfast from Goddard colony. In that time she'd tried to sleep but was unable to… Adm. Kinkaid, war hero to some, war criminal to others, was waiting there, not for specifically for her, but she worried that somehow she would fail to live up to his expectations of her. Hero or criminal... Kinkaid was a legend.

"Smleck... tommorow is Fourth day," Jena muttered as she was struck by a sudden recall. "I don't even own my own Grub'in. What on Earth am I going to make for these people?"

The report shifted to shipping news as she pondered.

"Outworld Alliance and NorCom officials have issued a hazard-to-navigation advisory for all outbound shipping. A small asteroid field appears to be migrating from the Kupier Belt toward the inner system in response to unknown gravitational effects. The field is estimated to be two hundred kilometers in size and is moving at eight kilometers per second. All ships transiting Omega control zone are advised to decrease speed and increase sensor power. TIL Corporation has dispatched a survey team to assess the exploitation value of this new field."

"Lucky TIL." Jena muttered and accessed the Mars-Link network, within seconds a list of available consumer goods was scrolling down the monacle face, she highlighted "cooking utensils" and dragged a 4-quart Grub'in icon into her virtual basket, then went back and changed the menu to "bulk foods." She found all the ingredients she needed for 5 times what she was used to paying on Earth, all except for one… ground beef. She settled for an equivalent portion of ground Smleck.

"Way to go, Connie!" An Army major sitting in front of her had turned in his seat and was giving her a smile and a thumbs up.

"What?" Jena said, stunned, as several others, now aware of her, offered similar encouragements.

"Everyone's heard about what you did with Mordicai," The Major said, nodding at the smiles Jena saw directed toward her. "You did more for fleet recruiting than all the advertising campaigns ever made. Especially the piece that one reporter did…" His brow furrowed with confusion. "What was her name?"

"Cody Links." A commander offered. The Major nodded and said, "Yeah, that's her… Cody Links. She's the one that came up with the name Constellation Connie."

"Now I know who to thank." Jena said as the group went back to their own business. There was a Lieutenant waiting inside the Holdfast once the transfer crawler had completed its trek from the landing field. He carried a stack of printouts, assignments, and called out names. Those called took their assignment and disappeared into the building. Jena raised her hand when she heard her name called. Eyes locked onto the words printed on the page, she drifted away from the rest of the group, her assignment was to the flag… to Adm. Kinkaid himself. There was an information kiosk just down the corridor. She got directions as she tried to calm her pounding heart. There was an express lift nearby that went all the way to the top.

***

"So this is Constellation Connie."

Jena, standing at rigid attention, nodded and managed a smile, willing her knees not to shake, while Adm. Kinkaid's eyes did a slow, head-to-toe inspection of her uniform. He was tall, and balding, with skin stretched tight over his gaunt features, but his grip was warmer than she'd expected.

"It's an honor, sir." Jena said and shot glances at the other officers gathered at the corners of her vision. When she'd finally found her way to the situation room at the top of the Holdout, she'd heard her name being whispered the moment she'd come through the door.

"The honor is ours, Lieutenant," Kinkaid said with mirth in his voice. "It isn't every day we welcome a celebrity to our ranks. I've heard that the producers of 'Legends of Valor' have contacted us about doing your story on their show. Imagine that… I thought the time of heroes had passed us by."

The staffers around them laughed. Thinking that she was being mocked, Jena flushed red and said, "That's not really for me to say, sir. I'm just here to direct my talents toward doing the best job possible for you."

Adm. Kinkaid smiled as he leaned in close to her and said, "A word of advice, Lieutenant, there are times to be serious and times to be less so. Know which is which."

The smile disappeared as Kinkaid removed a folded printout from his pocket and opened it. He lifted it in front of eyes and moved it closer and further away until he could see the lettering on it, then cleared his throat. 

"From… Northern Combine Congress," Kinkaid started in an official-sounding voice. "To Commander in Chief, Home Fleet. Effective as of April five, Twenty-one-ninety-one… Lieutenant Jena Mitchell is hereby promoted to the rank of Commander in recognition of her outstanding performance, professionalism, and dedication to duty while leading a rescue operation occurring from March nineteen to March twenty seven. Her actions bring great credit to herself, to the fleet, and to the Northern Combine."

Kinkaid passed the letter to a staffer waiting at his side. Jena kept her eyes straight ahead as he reached for her, taking up the rank badges Velcro'd to her shoulder tabs and ripping them off. He tossed the rank to the deck and reached into his pocket again, removing two new badges, which he affixed to the tabs and tamped down to ensure they were attached properly. Obeying protocol, she saluted him as he stepped back, holding it until the salute was returned. She snapped her hand back down to her side as Kinkaid smiled again and the staffers began applauding.

"I have a need of an adjutant," Kinkaid said as he grabbed her hand and gave it a slow shake. "I knew your father. We served together on the Saratoga. The job is yours if you want it."

"Thank you for the opportunity, sir." Jena said. She turned as she heard a pop. A staffer had opened a bottle of cold duck for the occasion. When she looked back at Kinkaid, his eyes were locked on hers.

"No thanks necessary, Commander," Adm. Kinkaid said as he released her hand. "We make our own opportunities. I didn't do this, you did."

***

"I've crossed into Omega control zone," The pilot of the scout ship TIL Amber-Rivet reported as his data-monocle flipped to show the location of the distant beacon. The location of the migratory field was bracketed in red. He tapped the rotation control to his left with the palm of his hand and felt the ship respond, curving into a new vector, one with the red brackets on the starfield just above the Amber-Rivet's rounded nose. "Sensors to maximum power. The field is at eight hundred thousand kilometers and closing. I'm beginning my first pass."

The pilot knew the survey routine well enough to be relaxed, letting the actions he'd allowed to become part of his nature to take over, he reached for toggles on the overhead switchboard without looking. In the cramped control cabin, the ship seemed to wrap itself around him life a suit of armor, but he regretted being passed over for the new Bonventure-class that TIL had secretly developed. He hadn't even known a prototype existed until it had launched from Earth with someone else at the controls.

"Spectrometer is online… readings are coming back clean," The pilot said. His brow furrowed as the results came up on the primary display between his knees. "No Carbonaceous bodies detected… the field is ninety-nine percent Nickel/Iron… I say again, the field is entirely Class M."

The four engines pushing Amber-Rivet forward were rapidly eating up distance. The sensors began to distinguish between individual asteroids. They all appeared to be of roughly the same size and shape; 400-800 meters long and cone-like, wider at the trailing end but tapering to a slimmer, almost rounded point. He dialed in the ship's long-range video. Craters from micrometeoroids were visible on the dappled gray-brown surface of each. Some were wider and shorter than others, but all were essentially the same shape, a unique feature. He zoomed in on one.

"There's one that looks like nine-five-one Gaspra," He said and reached for the toggle to power the next sensor suite. The view of the field changed to infrared, asteroids glowing from within with shades of red, orange, and yellow that cooled to greens and blues closer to the surface of each. "What the hell is this? It's got to be a mistake."

He shut down the power to the infrared sensor and waited several seconds before turning it on again. The results were the same. The asteroids were hot… yet should not have been so far away from the influences of large gravitational bodies.

"Are you getting this, control?" The pilot said, although he'd learned not to expect a reply, not when the Sun was more than 5.906 billion kilometers away. "This is one goddamned unusual field. I've never seen anything like it. I'd give up my chalet to find out where the source of all this thermal heat came from."

He pulled back on the engine control and the gravity pushing him into his acceleration couch eased from 2 G's to ¼ G as thrust dropped away. Another tap on the rotation control put the Amber-Rivet on a course to pass the nearest asteroids. Another row of toggles was flipped to the "active" position.

"Mass sensors online," The pilot said and felt his stomach flip as his brain immediately began flashing warnings that something was not right. "I've got serious anomalies here. Mass readings are… way off the mark. These things are Nickel/Iron but… they're only one-third as massive as any similar body," He frowned as the possibilities turning in his head stopped at one conclusion. "I think these things are hollow."

He tapped his headset as static erupted from the earphones. He dropped his eyes away from the starfield to the display for the Amber-Rivet's primary dish. It showed to set to auto-track and was oriented with Earth.

"What the hell is the problem with this thing now?" He wondered aloud. Amber-Rivet had an extremely powerful RADAR that occassionally overloaded certain systems, but communications was never one of them, especially since the RADAR was set to a lower power. He double-checked to be sure. "Control, I think I might be showing a fault in the commo system. Please respond."

A flash from in front of the ship drew his attention back forward. When he looked up, one of the asteroids had altered course and was closing. The nose of the thing emitted a blinding light that swept over the Amber-Rivet, filling the control cabin. 

***

SOL-4/Mars

She'd failed. Her first attempt at cooking for her hab-mates was a disaster of epic scale. Ground Smleck did not lend itself well to her mother's recipe for Chili and the imported spices she'd paid so dearly proved too much for their sensitive, Martian stomachs. 

Things had started off well enough. The smell had been enough to draw a crowd to her door… people looked into her apartment at regular intervals to watch her fumbling with her new Grub'in. They stood in line with their bowls to take their serving and each, after consuming their portion, stood in line at the toilet door to vomit.

The intrigued looks they had given her only moments before were replaced by looks of fear and suspicion. Jena had been crushed. She'd mumbled an apology and retreated to her small apartment. On the verge of tears, she climbed out of her bed to answer a knock on her door and found the old woman there, bowl in hand, asking for a second helping.

The woman's name was Marta, and as she helped Jena wash her Grub'in, she explained that, when she was a girl, she'd lived on Earth in a small town along the Guadalupe River. Chili had been one of her favorite meals. Old Marta had thanked her heartily and, wearing the same clever grin, made a basic list of the things Martians were used to eating before taking her leave. 

Jena sighed at the previous night's debacle as she stood at the door to Adm. Kinkaid's office. She could see him inside, sitting at his desk with the lights dimmed, hands folded in front of him. She lifted her hand to knock but stopped, unsure of if he wanted to be disturbed, almost unwilling to break his reverie. He looked toward the door, as if sensing her presence, and motioned for her to enter. She pressed the correct key and stepped through when the door opened.

"I… I'm sorry, sir. I didn't want to bother you." Jena said and clutched her datapad to her chest. Adm. Kinkaid smiled briefly, but it was comfort enough for her, she relaxed slightly.

"When you're in our business, my dear commander, there's no such thing as a bother," Kinkaid said and waved a hand at the chair set up next to his desk. "Please… sit."

He stood as she moved to the chair, sitting again once she had, obeying the etiquette of a bygone time frozen into his bones again and again. The effort to stand seemed to pain him though he made no mention of it.

"You have my attention, commander." He said flatly and leaned back in his chair, his eyes boring into hers. Jena cleared her throat and looked down at the information she'd saved onto her datapad.

"Regarding the asteroid field migrating into Omega control zone, sir, we have a final count of the number of objects," Jena said evenly, mentally cursing the power of the old admiral to intimidate her. "It's made up of roughly one-hundred fifty asteroids of between two-thousand and ten-thousand tons each. They're spaced relatively evenly throughout the field."

"Do we have any ships in the area?" Kinkaid said after a moment of consideration.

"No, sir… per your instructions, all military traffic has been routed around Omega control zone," Jena said after opening the file containing the appropriate information. "All civilian traffic arriving into the zone are immediately being notified of the hazard to navigation and advised to alter course through Tau or Alpha control zones. The only civilians in the region are research vessels studying the composition of the field."

"We have an opportunity here, commander," Kinkaid said as he pursed his lips while thoughtfully stroking his chin. "By effectively closing one control zone, we can double the assets patrolling those around it. Very nice… very nice. What did we have in Omega control zone?"

"Customs Authority rotates a dozen corvettes in and out," Jena said and read down the list on her datapad screen. "Home Fleet is contributing ten frigates and four destroyers, sir. HMS Coventry, HMS Hempstead, HMS Concord, and USS Gerber."

"I want new orders cut for those ships immediately," Kinkaid said. "Five frigates and two destroyers each for Tau and Alpha control zones. How soon can you get me an estimate on the percentage increase in contraband captures from the extra help in the two control zones?"

"By the end of the day, sir." Jena said resolutely. Kinkaid shook his head and looked down at the hardcopy scattered across his desk.

"Close of business Seventh-day will suffice," Kinkaid said. "Issue the orders, I leave the particulars up to you."

Jena stood. Kinkaid began to follow but grimaced and dropped back into his seat. "A word to the wise, commander… never try to do too much too quickly. You might need all that energy some time later. How are you getting along with Captain Eva?"

"I find her a bit abrasive, sir," Jena said. As aide-de-camp to Admiral Kinkaid, she'd resolved to answer him honestly no matter what the question. "At first I thought she was just giving me a hard time because I was new to the team. Now I'm beginning to think she truly doesn't like me."

"I'm reassigning her to Freedom Point," Kinkaid said. "She'll never make admiral and I don't imagine she's taking it very well. Endure her as best you can… you'll be quite beyond her reach soon enough."

"What did she do?"

"The NorCom has a de-facto obligation to defend Earth," Kinkaid said in a low voice so that it would not carry. "A great tragedy could've been averted if she'd acted properly while acting as watch officer at Norad. We moved her here to keep the press away from her."

Jena later mulled over his words as she reviewed a report on the battle readiness of E-Con naval garrisons in nearby systems. Now that Transterran had legal justification to seize the E-Con warships decaying in their orbital depots, Kinkaid needed to know what they were capable of deploying.

Maybe naval intelligence can work up a briefing on it, she though and opened her digi-calendar. She entered in start and end dates and ran a search titled "open hours." They were getting fewer and fewer.

*** 

SOL-3/Earth

"Amber-Rivet went missing six hours ago," Cutter said as he stared over his steepled fingers at the Old Earth print on the wall opposite his desk. "Water Lilies" by Monet. It was late and his office was dimly lit, reflecting his dark, uncertain mood. "Our pilot radioed back some very peculiar readings before he stopped transmitting… he thought the asteroids were hollow… sort of like a geode I suppose. Search and rescue launches in four hours unless I come up with a reason they shouldn't."

Leda stood at the office window and looked away from the cityscape spread out beneath her, listening to Cutter vent his frustrations and, she told herself, fears of the real unknown growing at the edges of the system where sunlight did not reach. She moved to the broad-leafed potted plant next to the window and plucked off the few brown, dead leaves she found on its branches, then turned to him and said, "Could it be something as simple as an equipment malfunction?"

"I've gone through the service logs for Amber-Rivet already," Cutter said without breaking his thoughtful pose. "It was older ship but was very well maintained… not a single incident on file. Even if the primary dish had failed it has two secondary dishes to operate with. If the ship had been destroyed, that would've been something we could detect, instead it just," He spread his hands wide. "Vanished… as if such a thing could still happen in this day and age."

"Occam's Razor," Leda said and gave her attention to the plant again. She exhaled into the leaves and was rewarded with an almost imperceptible wave of Oxygen returned to her. "If the communications systems haven't been compromised and there's no evidence of a crash, the ship must be occulted somehow."




Outworld Asylum



"You mean witchcraft?" Cutter said, causing Leda to smile at how powerful men could be so ignorant at times, she conceded that women were not immune to that same phenomenon. "Don't even start with that smleck. I'd be laughed out of the boardroom if I brought that up."

"I hear that the CEO checks his horoscope every day," Leda said and turned to him, satisfied that his plant was healthy and well-tended. "But something occulted is a thing hidden. Magic has nothing to do with it. It's just that if we've lost contact, the communications systems are redundant, and there's no evidence saying the ship was destroyed, then the next simplest answer is probably the most correct: that the Amber-Rivet is being hidden from us somehow."

"And now Admiral Kinkaid, in all his wisdom, has pulled the naval presence from the control zone where we need it most," Cutter said with a snort. "I guess even legends occasionally make stupid choices."

"It might've been a very wise choice," Leda said quietly, her mind sifting through everything her intuition and her connections on the Lands-Connect network could piece together. A picture was emerging… at least small sections of it. "I think the fewer military ships there are in that zone, the better we'll be."

"Why's that?" Cutter said and leaned back in his black leather chair.

"What if… and this is just a hypothetical situation… the asteroids in the fields weren't asteroids at all," Leda said and found Cutter's eyes locked on hers. "What if they were spaceships but not… not human… and what if that field was actually a fleet?"

"I've never known you to deal in hypothetical situations," Cutter said as he crossed his arms over his chest. "You know something."

"Just things that I've heard and felt," Leda said and took in the lights and towers of the urban core again. "Nothing I can prove. Take it as you may."

"How many people like you are aware of this?" Cutter demanded in a soft but firm voice. "The government? Our compeditors?"

"People have been entertained by the notion of alien encounters since eighteen-sixty-seven… even before then," Leda said, most of her type-3 friends had employment with the entities that Cutter mentioned and she knew that he knew it. "I'd say people have known about it for quite some time, only thought they were just being entertained, never guessing that they were being prepared as well."

"First contact." Cutter said and let out a troubled breath.

"I might be wrong," Leda said and shrugged dismissively. "After all, a race would have to develop the technology to bridge massive interstellar distances. It would be prohibitive to say the least."

Cutter, visibly concerned, looked at her and said, "We did."

***

SOL-4/Mars

Kinkaid lifted his eyes to the door when Jena knocked. She entered with a data-pad full of shipping incidents that had occurred over the long Martian night… nothing she estimated worth troubling the commander of the naval forces protecting Sol but orders were orders. Kinkaid had bags under his eyes and a look of ill disposition.

"Are you all right, sir?" Jena said, her voice tinged with real concern, she felt an odd connection to the old. "It's none of my business, sir… but you seem… out of sorts."

"It's your job to be concerned with my welfare, commander, and the answer to your question is yes and no. Physically, I'm as healthy as one could expect to be, particularly after so many years in cold sleep… but there are other ways I feel decidedly unwell," Kinkaid said and met her eyes with his again. "I'm nearly a hundred… I feel like a dinosaur… a Methuselah. Every friend I've ever known has passed on. I never see my family, and even if I did, the only ones left are my great-grandchildren. I love my country and my people, which is the only reason I agree to be frozen like a Christmas turkey over and over again, but every time I wake up, I like the world I see less and less."

"What about your son, sir?" Jena said when the old Admiral paused. The eyes that had stared through her only moments earlier softened. Kinkaid seemed to be on the verge of tears.

"I have no son," He said quietly, his voice as hard as his eyes had been, the dim light in the room seemed to grow darker. "My son would not have such flagrant disrespect for our laws. My son would not be a convict. My son would not turn his back on every value I ever tried to instill in him. If only… if only I'd been awake… if I'd been awake I could've brought him around."

"It's not your fault, sir," Jena said, afraid that she'd opened a wound too large to close, all she could do now was damage control. "Children spend all their lives trying to escape from the shadow of their parents. I still am… and it's not something you can effect no matter how much you try. That's the nature of things."

"Just like growing old," Kinkaid said and gave a resigned sigh. After a minute of thoughtful silence, he looked at Jena and the edges of his mouth curled slightly. "You are surely your father's daughter."

"I never knew him, sir," Jena said and laid the data-pad on his desk. "Only pictures of him… sometimes pictures of him and me. I heard his voice on videos made before I was born, learned about his heart by my mother's stories."

Adm. Kinkaid smiled wistfully and said, "I asked him once why it was that he fought with such ferocity. He said nothing but removed a photo of your mother. Nothing else was needed for me to understand his passion." 

"What was he like, sir?"

"Nathan Mitchell was a ball-breaking, son-of-a-bitch who worked his crew to the verge of mutiny on more than one occasion," Kinkaid said as he leaned back in his chair. "He was hated by far more people than he was loved by, but he was tough… extremely capable, and he made sure everyone knew it. His crew knew it… and that when it came to battle he would bring them back alive… if anyone could. They didn't love him… but they respected and obeyed him, and that was the most important thing of all."

"And you and he were friends, sir?" Jena said, disturbed that the fantasy she'd held of her father as a perfect man was shattered so quickly, but it was a thing she'd wondered about since the family's notification of his death.

"Our relationship was one of equals," Kinkaid said and laboriously stood, clasped his hands behind his back, and walked to the window overlooking the dusty red plains beyond Elysium. "We shared the same watches on Saratoga, ate the same food, dripped the same sweat. During battle we muttered the same prayers. He was given command of the Saratoga before the Neo-colonial War had run its course. I was given the Columbia."

"Were you there when," Jena started but nearly choked on the words. "When Saratoga was lost?"

"I was indeed," Kinkaid said solemnly and turned to face her. "The bloodiest day in NorCom naval history. Are you… sure… you want to hear this?"

"Yes, sir." Jena said and wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her uniform.

"The objective was Avalon," Kinkaid said and moved to the small service bar built into the room and removed a pitcher of water and a glass. "The Eurocons knew we were massing at Sixty-one Virginis… half a million troops, over a hundred ships. A blind fool could've seen that there were only two possible targets… Fifty-one Pegasai or Forty-Seven Ursae Majoris… New Haven or Avalon."

"Why Avalon, sir?" Jena said as Kinkaid filled the glass and put it to his lips. He drained it in a single draught and replaced pitcher and glass in the recesses of the service bar.

"New Haven was within our range but judged as too expensive," Kinkaid said as he took his seat again. He spun to face her. "Avalon was the jewel in the EuroCon colonial crown. Even better, the orbital defenses there were still under construction, so the choice for our attack was plain. Propaganda and disinformation threw the EuroCon into confusion. Rather than dividing their fleet, and risking its loss, they kept it under garrison at New Haven… so we were convinced anyway."

"What do you mean, sir?" Jena said and sat on the edge of Kinkaid's desk.

"We sent a battle group to harass the New Haven garrison and reinforce the illusion of an impending attack there," Kinkaid said and shook his head. "Never once did we think that we could be taken by a deception of EuroCon making… but with every report of Seven Kreigsmarine waiting at Fifty-one Pegasai for us, we more and more fell into the trap being laid for us."

"At Avalon, sir?" Jena said as a stream of ships and transports moving away from Pax Oceanus appeared in her mind's eye. Kinkaid shook his head.

"The EuroCons correctly guessed that we would need to refuel before hitting Avalon," Kinkaid said grimly. "They were waiting for us at Phi Beta Canatorum."

"The next system in line down the Virginis Run," Jena said and Kinkaid nodded again. "I thought systems hosting a SolCorp platform were considered neutral?"

"There was not a SolCorp station then," Kinkaid said. "Just a few dozen of our tankers waiting for our invasion force. The troop transports were the first to fuel… then our ships-of-the-line. That's when the EuroCons hit us from all sides… with our fuel tanks half empty and a fleet of fat tankers for the taking."

"Christ and Allah." Jena said quietly.

"We'd just finished topping off our tanks when the battle began," Kinkaid said and his eyes shone with a wetness not there before. "I wish you could've seen it… how defiantly Saratoga turned to meet them, her engines burning bright, escorts falling into position around her as if… as if they were fingers on the same hand," Kinkaid held out his hands for emphasis then collapsed back against his seat. "Those of us with fuel were ordered away… to follow the troop transports to Avalon. The rest of the fleet fought a delaying action… holding open the jaws of death long enough for us to make the jump."

"Did you talk to him before…" Jena said and let the thought trail off, not wanting to think about what he would inevitably tell her.

"I begged him to turn the Saratoga around and make for the Virginis system," Kinkaid said quietly. "But Nathan laughed at the worry in my voice and said we would meet again when there were no more battles left to fight."

"Did he… did he die well, sir?" Jena said and suddenly recalled holding a hardcopy fax from the NorCom-Office of Fleet Affairs that began, 'We regret to inform you…'

"Nathan Mitchell and the USS Saratoga were names much feared and hated by the EuroCon naval command," Kinkaid said and dabbed at his own eyes though tears were beyond his pride. "Where other ships drew two attackers, Saratoga drew five… the EuroCon paid a heavy price to collect him, I promise you… three ships-of-the-line destroyed, at least, with others heavily damaged. I could see that he was still in action when we reached the jump point but was surrounded. The last transmission we picked up was that he was losing reactor containment… then Saratoga was gone… exploded."

Jena and Kinkaid turned simultaneously as someone came through the door into his office, an ensign from the Communications office with a sheet of hardcopy in hand, he stopped just inside the door and saluted.

"What is it?" Kinkaid said as Jena composed herself. The aide walked around to the front of his desk and laid down the hardcopy. He wore an American flag on his left shoulder.

"We've picked up a message from inside the asteroid field migrating Omega control zone, sir," The ensign said and went to attention. "It's an Old Earth signal called Morse Code we've been receiving for the last thirty minutes."

"Dammit, son, get to the point," Kinkaid said and glowered at the younger man as he picked up the hardcopy and scanned over the lines of data. "Have you decoded it yet?"

"It's a single word on a repeating string, sir… sanctuary… over and over… just sanctuary. One ship has been reported missing in the field, sir… but I hardly think they would be in such dire condition as to forego more modern ways of communication in favor of something not used since the early twentieth century."

"Commander," The admiral said and spun to face Jena as the ensign saluted again and made for the door. "Your thoughts on the matter?"

Jena thought quietly for several moments and said, "Customs Authority has probably picked up the same signal. They'll have ships in a position to investigate sooner than we can. It would be wise to coordinate through them. I'll contact them directly." 

"Good thinking," Kinkaid said. "And issue the order for Home Fleet to increase its readiness status. I'm not going to be caught unprepared if they try anything we don't like."