Penance (RN: Book 2) (4 page)

Canthouse entered the bridge and stopped to stifle a jaw stretching yawn before approaching the short, square shouldered form of Lieutenant Christopher Avery who stood between the navigational and tactical seats with his hands clasped behind his back as he stared at the view screen.

“What is it Chris?” asked Canthouse, his fist almost disappearing into his mouth as he stifled yet another yawn.

“I’m sorry to have awakened you, but Wheyer found something on the active scanners. It’s quite far away and we’re moving there now,” Avery said in his usual composed monotone without taking his eyes from the screen.

“Is it a ship?”

“We’re not sure as it was picked up by the feather edge of the active sensors at full gain, and it’s carrying too much white noise for us to be certain of anything.”

“How far off the path is it?”

“Wheyer can you ...” Avery said to the ops officer who nodded in the affirmative.

The screen changed to the view of the stacked gridlines with spiral search paths, and zoomed into the three quarter point of the central spiral, which now had a dotted spoke protruding from one side toward empty space. At the end of the line flashed a small blue star.

“How long until we reach it?” asked Canthouse, his attention on the blue star.

“Twenty three minutes at present velocity. But I think we should have a visual any time ...”

The screen blinked to a star field backdrop with a band of golden brown nebulae filling the middle third of the screen. The two officers stared at apparent empty space until a small spinning oblong became visible in the center screen. It grew in form and definition to resemble a sheared wooden fence post.

“Wheyer?” Avery said without removing his attention from the screen.

“It’s metallic. Approximately one and a half meters long. Spectral isotope signature ...confirms it’s a part of Governor Middlemore’s shuttle. Looks like one of the external engine bracings and it has sustained damage. It was sheared by a high energy interaction and very recently too according to the carbon signature.”

“If this is from Middlemore’s shuttle then where’s the rest of it?”

“I’m not sure sir,” Wheyer said working his console, “There’s more debris here, but nothing as large as this, and certainly not enough mass to –“ A repeating double chime stole Wheyer’s attention and he stared at his screen, his brow furrowed and lips poised as if to continue speaking.

“Operations!” Avery said in a don’t keep me waiting tone.

“Yes sir. Sorry. There’s something odd a hundred kilometres to port of the debris. I’m detecting a gate signature, but it’s not a gate signature as there’s far too much energy dispersal.”

“Elaborate,” Avery said.

“Computer’s leafing through it now,” Wheyer’s screen folded through several filters before stopping on an image resembling a rippling magnetic splash. He stared at the image as he fiddled with the gain controls until he could define it no further. “Sir, this is definitely a gate event, but the signature is enormous. Larger even than the,
Formidable’s
. ” Wheyer referred to the RNO’s only FTL capable carrier, several hundred thousand tonnes of carbon armour and strike craft.

“Larger than Formidable?”Canthouse said moving to observe the ops screen. Avery remained where he was observing the ops image transferred to the main viewer. His thick brow furrowed as he stared intently at the screen absorbing all the details there were to see.

“What could make a gate signature as large as a carrier without it being a carrier?” asked Canthouse, his gaze still on the ops panel.

“Weps!” Wheyer said as he continued to work.

“There are one hundred and four vessels capable of making deep transference signatures currently in service with the Earth pact forces,” the weapons officer said looking at the screen. “But there’s something odd here, that signature is too open, too unfocused to have been a fleet vessel.”

“Weps is correct sir,” Wheyer said giving his touch screen a final resolving tap. “The computer has finished its analysis and has a resolution.”

“It’s Chinese!” Canthouse said incredulously as he shifted his disbelieving stare to Avery who pivoted to look at him.

“Wake the commander,” Avery said in a stern tone without moving his eyes from the first officer.

“Aye sir,” Wheyer responded.

“What the hell would the Chinese be doing in British space kidnapping RN personnel?” asked Canthouse.

“We’ve no conclusive proof this is a Chinese signature yet, just borderline similarities,” Avery said nodding toward the data filled display.

“Sir, I do believe the signature is definitely Chinese, there’s no mistaking these wave forms, but I don’t believe it came from any current Chinese fleet vessel.”

“Could it be from an unlisted or private vessel?” asked Avery.

“No, I don’t think so as the signature has no uniformity. It’s just too crude, too dirty to be any vessel in the EDP inventory,” Wheyer scratched the side of his head as he looked at his monitor, he caught his own actions in the reflection and lowered the offending hand.

“Explain,“ Canthouse said.

“Well, when a modern ship enters a gate it’s not unlike stabbing a sword into still water. There are some ripples, sure, but nothing to upset the ducks. It’s a surgical procedure. But this signature is akin to throwing a big rock from a great height, the result is a frothing turmoil that no one could miss. I haven’t seen such a turbulent signature since the first steps into gate travel, and even then they were more ordered than this. And there’s something else.” Wheyer tapped a key.

A faint violet line appeared on the screen. One end flared to meet the center of the expanding magnet ripples, with the other following a crooked path into the distance like a diminishing tornado funnel.

Avery stared for several seconds, “Is that a gate trail?”

“Yes, sir,” ops answered.

“And we can see it!” Canthouse said standing. “I always believed gate trails to be filament thin and invisible to the human eye.”

“That’s correct sir. Under normal conditions gate trails are undetectable. Whatever made this is as crude as they come.”

“Even so, why can we see it?” asked Avery.

Ops stared at his screen thoughtfully as he pivoted his chair and tapped his pyramided

fingers together in front of his face. “Well the image is enhanced so we can see it, but I believe the best analogy here is this gate trail is like an underground tunnel that has collapsed in on itself, with the ground above settling into a furrow along its length.”

“All along its length?” asked Avery.

“Yes. I believe so, sir.”

“Then we can follow it,” Canthouse nodded as he followed Avery’s logic

“Report!” Denz said in his gruff just been disturbed voice as he strode from the rear door with a dour air about him.

The bridge crew stiffened to attention at his approach. Though Canthouse was his senior, it fell to Avery as duty Lieutenant to explain the situation to Commander Denz in his usual composed monotone. Denz’s grim air grew darker as Avery explained the situation, with his attention on the presented data the whole time, until his gaze snapped to his second officer the moment a Chinese presence was mentioned.

“And how far can we track it?” asked Denz.

“Passive sensors lose it after twenty three AU’s commander. But it’s already beginning to evaporate,” ops said.

“Is there any further data on the governor’s shuttle in the local area?”

“No commander. There’s no evidence of transitional dispersion either as all the identifiable debris is localised in this area. I’d think it’s safe to say that the shuttle was stationary when attacked. Whatever left that signature snatched him from here,” ops said.

Denz pursed his lips and nodded in accordance as Wheyer made his explanation. “Agreed. Excellent determination, operations officer.” Wheyer nodded his gratitude. “Gentlemen, I think what ever took the governor’s shuttle and left that,” he indicated the rippling magnetic signature with a dip of his head, “can be found at the other end of that transit-line. Do we have any idea where it leads?”

Canthouse gestured to uncertainty. “Passive sensors estimate it runs somewhere outbound of the rim in the same rough direction as Trent quarter station. Ops if you could ...thank you.” The form of a triangle appeared on the screen with the base line representing the regular trade lane between Tristan de Cunha and Trent, with the top point the location of the Bristol. A violet line curled from their position in a lazy arc down the left hand side toward Trent quarter station, only to curve back into outer rim territory. “Of course, we can’t be very certain as we only have the passive data to work with.“

The door at the rear of the bridge opened with the arrival of the relief bridge crew to replace those on duty. Denz signalled them to wait where they were with a raised palm until Canthouse had finished. His gaze lingered on Cummings with more than fatherly appreciation, who returned his attention with a simple red lipped smile.

“Good. Let’s get the shift change completed; Malcolm, I believe you’re up, and we can continue the pursuit.” Denz sat in the command chair considering the data on the screen as the crew members updated their colleagues before being relieved.

Lieutenant Avery glanced at his watch and rubbed his neck before turning to Denz. “Commander, I’d like permission to remain on the bridge to see how this progresses as it’s not something we see every day.”

“Yes, it’s one for Poirot, isn’t it,” Denz near chuckled. “Of course, Lieutenant, at your own discretion. However ...” Denz crooked a finger to his lips as he gazed thoughtfully at the deck in front of him. He leaned toward Avery in a conspiring manner. “Christopher, if you get time, could you pay a visit to the mess and observe the behaviour of the men from engineering crew B, as I’ve had some unsettling reports from the female crew of overly friendly behaviour. Some quite serious. If there’s anything to be concerned about I want to put a stop to it before it gets out of hand and ...”

Something twitched in Avery but he kept it buried. Though his name never revealed his native country and its long history of civil unrest, his family had a tumultuous account of clan disquiet with duplicitous natures and spiteful betrayals still common amongst the closely knit communities. Amongst the families such problems were dealt with behind closed doors, with the punishments for any non-relation found guilty of passing word on another man leaving little to make identification possible.

Avery already knew who the offenders were; that lanky prick Levre and his cohorts Stain and Peters, the three of them the affliction of the female crewmen. With no commissioned female officers currently onboard, reporting such infractions fell to the more senior of the NCOs whose womanly reserve prevented a candid voice to a senior male figure and denying them a natural pressure relief valve, but they had their ways. Avery cast an eye at the freckle faced Cummings who leant over Wheyer’s shoulder pointing at the ops screen as they discussed task hand off. It was obvious where Denz sourced his information. Not everyone knew of the liaison, though there were circular whispers around square tables, and as long as they kept it quiet then what was the harm, especially with the other conspiratorial burdens Denz bore. Avery laughed inwardly. The fools! The harm came when pillow talk saw others tasked with her bidding, and he would never permit his being manipulated by any woman.

He could never inform on another man, no matter the circumstances and he would have to find a way of side stepping the request Denz was about to ask of him whilst still delivering a resolution, or at least giving the appearance of doing so. He needed to force the three fools to back down without revealing names to Denz and he had a way to do it.

“ ...so if you could see wh –“

“I do believe I know what the problem may be sir. I -” Denz’s open mouthed stare stopped Avery dead, and he came close to breaking his composure as he inwardly cursed himself for such an abrupt interruption. Denz may give the impression of being a dithering fool but he came down hard on any demonstration of disrespect, and with DSV commissions so highly prised and so many capable officers champing at the bit to fill the positions of an errant Lieutenant, having a black mark against your name could see you snapped back to local system duties for the rest of your career.

“I apologise, Commander. I didn’t mean to interrupt. My mouth got the jump on me.”

Denz considered him for several seconds, “That’s quite alright, Christopher. Please continue.”

“I believe, well I should say that it’s come to my attention that various partnerships have formed between members of the subordinate crew -” Denz’s eyes never so much as flickered at the use of subordinate. “ – with the inevitable jealousies and slander from rejected partners. I wasn’t going to mention anything, sir, as these things tend to blow over. But if you’d like me to intervene, I could rearrange schedules to ensure those involved have little time to meet.”

“Oh!” Dens said, his eyes wide as if considering two pieces of contradictory information. “I never heard it this way, but I believe it explains a few inconsistencies. Very well,” Denz adjusted himself in his chair, “Forget what I said and rearrange the schedule as you see fit and we’ll leave it there. I just don’t want to hear anymore such complaints aboard this ship.”