The office door opened so soundlessly that Lieutenant Jane
Briarwood didn’t even look up from the pile of reports that had overrun her
desk, each more mundane than the last. This is not what she had signed up for
or what her teenage self-had looked up at the stars and dreamed of.
She remembered that
lonely teenage girl on the agricultural world of Rowlatt VII with fondness. The
long walks in the rolling green countryside, laying under the broad Medri Oak
atop of the Boxleigh hill embedded in a book about alien life and structures on
distant planets. She had made up her mind at fourteen that she was going to
escape the drudgery of rural life and see the stars.
To her youthful
mind it had all seemed so simple and getting in the Academy at Belgarum had
been as most applicants wanted to be Marines, fighter pilots or Ship’s officers
not xeno-archaeologists. She had arrived on system in the midst of the worst
storm in a century and it had all she could do to get from the shuttle to the
Administration building with out being washed away. The great grey brick
building loomed out of the darkness as an oppressive big black shadow
illuminated by cracks of lightening that highlighted the outline making it seem
even more oppressive like a haunted house from one of the Horror movies her
brother had made her watch. As she saw joined the stream of young adults
running towards the building clutching her books and pack of uniform she could
hear her brother’s words in her head;
“What are you doing? Run away from the creepy house!”
After such an
inauspicious start and a few lonely nights in her room with nothing but her
books for company things began to get more interesting. Despite the Academy
being a Military facility the discipline for mission specialists was a lot
lighter than for the regular recruits despite the first semester of Basic training
including fire arms, swamp missions, morning cross country runs and shouting,
shouting and more shouting from a spiteful little man with the smallest gold
braid any NCO had ever worn but somehow conferred upon him some sort of deity
style superiority over the mere mortal recruits. She was glad when she was
moved across to her specialist’s training program in which they were given
quite a run of freedom including practice digs out on the veld. By the end of
four years studying she had left on a glorious sunny day and her eyes were
filled with bright promise and hope for the future clutching her diploma in one
hand and her assignment papers in the other. It didn’t take long for the bubble
to burst.
Her first two years
were spent aboard the great Battle-cruiser Kraken
where she was only called upon for one planetary mission only to find the First
Officer, Lieutenant Commander Miller had written down the wrong name and
instead of the vessel’s marine biologist, Lieutenant Maeve Underwood they had
got the ship’s only archaeologist whose shovel and can-do attitude was
completely wasted on the Oceanic world. She watched younger cadets get promoted
past her and the boredom had seriously begun to eat at her morale when through
chance a golden opportunity had slid across her desk. The Institute on
Dremeridius VII was looking for a student professor and tenured researcher into
temples in the sector.
She couldn’t get
off the Kraken fast enough and found
herself in Archaeologist’s paradise. The station was set on a rural
agricultural world that was very similar to where she had grown up with
beautiful walks, inviting green woodlands but with the bonus of an Academy
grade library and research facilities. Despite being one of only three women
and half the age of most of the academics she was respected and treated as if
she had always been there. She had her own office and space to sit and write
papers, maybe go on two digs a year to the nearby Dremerdius IV with its
flowing blue rivers and hazy meadows that swam through the methane atmosphere.
Before she knew it fourteen years had passed her by and she found herself
catching a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror. The first few line had
begun forming at the corner of her eyes and a thin streak of grey had developed
in her jet black hair which ran from just behind her left ear and ran down to
her shoulder blade.
Jane had never been
particularly vain about her looks, she had always taken care of herself with
regular exercise and her pale blue eyes, light freckling across her nose and
soft features had led many to consider her pretty. “Not beautiful but pretty
like a field mouse” as her mother would say. The grey hair did act as a prompt
for her to consider what she was doing with her life and her choice of
assignment. Dremerdius was comfortable, it offered great resources for study
and writing but was it what she wanted in the long term? Did she want to end
her career here like the other officers or join the brass plates on the
memorial wall of the library for death in service? Death from old age.
Before she could
deliberate on the question the Endeavour had
arrived in orbit.
An expedition to
Nygma IX had been put together and the Sector Council wanted an archaeological
survey carried out before Endeavour’s
teraformers began their work. Lieutenant Commander Devonshire, the lead
archaeologist had at first hoped to expand his field team but on discovering
that most of the facility’s staff were well past the age of active duty so he
settled for Jane and her knowledge of ancient temples in the sector. It was
true she had written extensively on the subject for three years and was the
first to map and theorise that the Dremeridius temple was a blue print for
twelve similar temples across the sector all clearly made by the same race.
After saying good bye to her friends and colleagues and her adopted cat,
Mittens, she had boarded Endeavour
full of enthusiasm and expectation for the future operation.
That was four
months ago.
Since then her
daily routine had involved her daily run around the ship, answering queries,
checking and inventorying all of the Archaeological equipment and repeat. The
only silver lining was they were finally only a day away from Nygma.
“Good Morning Jane.” Came the familiar dry monotone voice of
Commander Devonshire. “Wearing your hair down today?”
She slowly pulled herself from the reminisces to meet his
affable smile. “Sorry Sir, I’ve not got around to putting it up yet.”
“No, no, don’t worry” he raised his hands defensively “I
like it. We’re fairly informal here.”
That they were.
“Listen,” he began without missing a beat. “I don’t want you to check the
equipment this afternoon.”
She felt her eyes widen with surprise but managed to
recompose herself before Devonshire noticed but she couldn’t hide the surprise
from her voice. “Really sir?”
“Yes. We’re near position and we need to be ready to deploy
our equipment and I need everything inventoried and taken to the main shuttle
bay.”
“Yes Sir.” She answered in the defeated monotone that was
rapidly becoming her signature voice. “I’ll do it immediately.”
She stood in the lift staring in the middle distance
counting the floors off one by one. Endeavour
was not a particularly large ship with its eighteen decks and two hundred
metre length and an additional hundred for the engine module. The Crew of seventy-five
was quite small and in the course of this seemingly torturous journey she had
met all of them. There were of course the engineers, victualling staff, a small
security detail and a host of mission specialists like herself. Most of the
crew seemed friendly and she did enjoy the fact that she was recognised by her
colleagues as she walked down the corridors rather than the faceless anonymity
of life on the Kraken where she had
been a face in thousands, a nameless nobody alone in the crowd.
The lift door opened and the familiar
featureless white corridor that led to the main security office burst into view
with its over powering white strip lighting offending her eyes which had grown
used to the comparative semi darkness of the rest of the ship. She paused at
the non-descript metal door and pushed the intercom knowing full well that she
had already been seen on the security cameras and a scuffle will have broken
out as to who would get to the door first. She closed her eyes making an
educated guess as to who was on duty who had got there first last time and the
time of day.
“Morning Jane, you’re early.” – It was Jack, as always.
Staff Sergeant Jack Renfield was in his early thirties with
a slightly receding blonde hair line and a pair of sparkling grey eyes that
spelt mischief.
“Well he wants to make doubly certain the equipment is fully
functioning and operable for tomorrow. Would you mind opening the stores one
last time and escorting me to the shuttle bay please?” She favoured him with
her brightest smile and saw him blush a broad shade of pink.
“Sure Jane, let me go get the key card.” And with that he
darted back into the office.
She continued on mental autopilot as she tried
to remember how many times she had been down this corridor since coming aboard.
It must be once may be twice a day and she had memorised how many floor panels
there were, where the security proximity alarms, how many footsteps it took
before Jack would appear in the door to the second. The boring off-white walls
and scratched dull steel deck plates no longer offended her and she had
worryingly become accustomed to it. She reached the first of the heavy black
security doors that lined the corridor and paused to look at its unremarkably
shiny surface. There were four more doors, each sealed with the two card locks
and monitored by cameras and door alarms. She was not certain what each of the
stores held but one belonged to the terraformers and one to the Science teams
and she guessed one belonged to the Security team for their heavier weapons but
in honesty, she was not certain. She could ask Jack and he would no doubt spill
the beans, he always did, but part of her really didn’t want to know. She could
not be guilty of anything if she could honestly plead ignorance.
It always unnaturally hot in the secure corridor and she
subconsciously unbuttoned her naval blue uniform jacket to reveal her bleached
white undershirt. She was just unbuttoning her collar when the main door swung
open and a jacketless Jack strolled nonchalantly into the corridor whistling
and swinging the security key card on the end of its lanyard.
“Devonshire does now all of his equipment is held in a
stasis field so is unaffected by any external stimulus and that to get to it
you need both our keys and disable a whole host of alarms?”
“You would hope so.” Jane forced a smile as she pushed her
key card into the first lock.
As the door opened with the his of escaping compressed air
she entered in her security code, 703639, onto the keypad within the stores and
the lights beyond within the cavern lit up to reveal several large wooden
crates sat in the middle of the floor. She turned back to Jack still holding
onto the smile.
“I’ll start with the inventory and final checks and I’ll
give you a shout when I’m ready to leave.”
“No problem,” he paused “are you going planetside in the morning?”
“Yes, I’m quite looking forward to it.” This time the smile was not forced and
the joy of finally getting off this ship and doing something she enjoyed.
“If you would like, and you have a spare hour tonight, would
you like me to go through basic weapons training? When was the last time you
fired your side arm?”
She looked him up and down noting the slight paunch of a man
who spent most of his time working at computer screens. “When was the last time
you fired yours?”
Jack’s face fell under the acidic blast and he muttered an
almost inaudible retraction as he turned to leave.
Guilt bubbled through Jane as she realised her defensive
whiplash tongue had got the better of her. Jack was pretty much the only member
of the crew that she spoke to on a regular basis and was probably the closest
thing she had to a friend. Everyone seemed fairly nice but she still felt like
an outsider at times especially that she, as a woman, was in the minority. As
the voyage had worn on she had been propositioned by more than a few of the
male crew but following a spate of unwanted advances often foiled by some of
her best acidic putdowns, Mr Miles, the ship’s Second officer, had stepped in
to resolve the situation. She knew she wasn’t the only woman on crew to suffer
the same way.
“Jack, wait.” She sighed. “Look, I’m off duty from 18:00
hours. Why don’t we get something to eat in the Officer’s mess? I’ll even vouch
for you Sergeant.” She tried her most infectious grin and attempted a quick
wink which she feared came off rather clumsily through lack of practice. Her
gamble paid off as a soft smile slowly touched his lips but soon spread like
wildfire across his face.
“Thanks, I’d like that.” He said with a gentle nod. “I’ll meet you there.”
She watched Jack quickly take his leave of her and she
couldn’t help but smile. There was something about him that reminded her of…
She suddenly winced as the painful memory came rushing to the surface clawing
at her heart with steel daggers and buried deep and it took all of her mental
strength to supress it. A long time had passed since she had thought about Ed.
An even longer time recovering from his loss, a recovery which had been one of
the positives of her long stay at Dementrius.
First Lieutenant Ed van Dahl had been a young, vibrant
fighter pilot with a glittering career ahead of him. He was a son, a brother, a
friend and her soulmate. They had met in the Kraken’s library and had got talking about Kadbulian architecture,
the lost civilisation of Zerroud and the possibility of alien cultures transporting
between temples through an She never thought she would have an in depth
conversation with another officer not in her field let alone with a fighter
pilot. As first she thought it was a a practical joke but the more they spoke
the more she realised that his knowledge was too deep for someone who had just
grazed the surface.
They had gone for dinner a few times, shared leave and spent
as much of their off-duty time as they could. She had felt like she had known
him all of her life, that within the short period of knowing him they had
become intrinsically linked like two symbionts working for the benefit of the
whole host. Now she thought back about it she could only scoff at how cheesy it
sounded but they finished each other’s sentences and engaged each other on an
intellectual level. She feared that she was only with him as he was the first
person on the ship to notice her existence but deep down she knew it was more
than that. On the Anniversary of their first deep discussion in the Library he
took her back to Rowlatt VII and took her for a picnic under her tree. In the
streaming sunshine he had asked her to marry him. It had all been perfect, too
perfect. Within a week he was dead. His Nautilus fighter had ploughed into the
ground during a routine patrol, the cause of which was thought to have been a
clogged intake valve caused by sloppy maintenance. She had been devastated. She
went to see her supervising officer to try and get leave and it took twenty
minutes for Lieutenant Commander Potts to realise who Jane was and five minutes
to refuse the request on the grounds that they were not married. Colonel
Mahltzahn, Ed’s commanding officer, had come to see her and to express the
Group’s sadness at his lost. He had sat with her for an hour as she cried into
her pillow. He tried to be as supportive as he could, but she could tell this
was not his forte and that he was torn from doing his duty and escaping. When
she finally managed to get a grip of herself she had thanked him for his time
and support and the Colonel offered to help her any time she ever needed him, but
she never saw him again. Thankfully her role aboard ship was so minimal that
she could just drop off the radar and spend time alone deep in the bowels of
the vessel surrounded by her books and papers and only have to attend basic
staff meetings once a week. It was difficult though as everything aboard ship
reminded her of him and then like a life line the offer to join the Dementrius
facility came along.
Now, several years later she was going for dinner one on one
with someone for the first time since Mahltzahn had fled her quarters and she
was feeling strangely elated at the prospect. She had always felt that the name
“Officer’s mess” was much nicer sounding than perhaps it was. Despite the oak
panelling and table cloths it was after all a windowless box. She entered the
nearly empty Mess wearing the required Dress uniform white jacket, her three
tour of duty ribbons and two miniature medals which she would rather not wear
as they only signified that she had turned up for duty. For her serving in the
fleet was not about military awards or glorious combat – in fact it wasn’t even
for the betterment of the Human race rather for her studies. There were days
that her morale was so low that any day where she could be left alone to read
and write and still get paid was a good day.
“Table for one sir?” A white jacketed rating on Mess duty approached her. He
had an air of arrogance and if she didn’t know better she would have thought he
was looking down his nose at her.
“No thank you, two please. I have a guest coming.”
“Very good sir.” The rating gestured to a table in the far corner with two
uncomfortable wooden chairs adorned with small green cushions, at least it
would afford them some privacy.
No sooner had she sat down than Jack appeared in the doorway, his jacket
immaculately white and adorned with six tour ribbons and several impressive
looking medals and a Galactic Cross at his throat. She had never thought of him
as a warrior, he was just Jack, the portly security officer who unlocked the
store door and flirted badly with her. She stood up and awaited his approach,
but Jack seemed to be having a disagreement with the rating at the door,
although their voices were kept at a respectful volume they were clearly
arguing. Eventually the snobby rating approached her and began to talk down his
nose to her.
“This… Sergeant claims to be invited sir.”
She straightened her back and tried to put on her best commanding officer
impression. “Indeed, that is true crewman.”
“Sir, I must remind you that according to Ship’s regulations no NCO or crewman
not on Mess Duty is strictly forbidden from the Officer’s Mess.”
Jane became painfully aware of other officers looking up from their meals and
drinks and all eyes were locked on the two creating a scene. As if the moment
was not uncomfortable enough someone cleared their throat in a derisive way and
that was enough for her.
“Jane, it doesn’t matter.” Jack caught her eye. “I’ll see you another time.”
She could see his embarrassment and that he was fading fast under the negative
attention yearning to get back to the safety of the security office. Suddenly
she was embarrassed for him and she wanted to escape as well. As her resolve
faded away all she could bring herself to do was nod acceptingly and flee
towards the door and her friend mouthing “I’m sorry.”
“Its ok.” He forced a smile “I’m used to it. Sergeant’s mess?”
“That would be great.” She nodded “If it is acceptable for an officer to be in
there!”
They both laughed and she stole a glance up at her friend and how relaxed he
was becoming as if the whole incident had never happened “Tell me something.
Where did you get your Galactic Cross?”
He half laughed. “I found it at the bar, one of the officers left it whilst drinking.”
She slapped his arm “Come on. You’ve not worn it before.”
Jack slipped into quiet thought. “I don’t like to wear it, it reminds me of a
horrible time in my life. I got it for saving a wounded soldier and dragging
him a mile back to our lines under heavy fire. Had I known he was an officer I
probably would have left him there.”
Jane looked into his sad grey eyes and tried to gauge whether he was being
serious or not. His eyes looked haunted by memories of that day and many others
on a distant battlefield. She realised that she barely knew the man beside her,
she had completely misjudged him and now she had so many questions for him she
felt that this was neither the time or the place and they lapsed into a not
uncomfortable silence.
Finally he spoke slowly and with
purpose. “Jane, tomorrow you’re going into the unknown and despite what these
experts think it is exceptionally dangerous. Promise me that you will be
careful and don’t be a hero. Run if you need to.”
