Operation Chimera (34 page)

Bonk.

“Owwwwww.” Keg shuddered, LED-eyes glaring at Aaron. “Only he’s allowed to bonk me.” One thin strut arm pointed at Liam.

“Looks like we’re going to need more tea.”

“Fancy a spot of Earl Grey?” asked Liam, to Emma.

“Have you seen the replicator’s excuse for crumpets,” she muttered. “It’s worse than a pig’s breakfast.”

“I’ll take that as a bad thing then,” said Michael, laughing. “Be right back.”

aptain Driscoll stripped out of his dirty uniform and ran a shower. It was hot, too hot perhaps, but good. He felt more than clean after he’d changed into some loose fitting civvies. Refreshed and ready for some much needed rest. It’d been one hell of a day, that was for sure.

He fetched himself a glass of scotch and sat on the small couch at the other end of his quarters. Outside the dusky orange hues of the Chimera Cluster gave depth and substance to space itself. Gave it color.

He sipped the single malt and reflected on all that had happened. Some start to a mission… and already things were complicated.

He’d seen what the ship could do, and more importantly what her crew were capable of. Driscoll was pleased. Both held up well under pressure, in the face of their mutual destruction. He couldn’t have asked more.

But there was a traitor aboard.

A spy.

A saboteur intent on stopping their mission, screwing with it. The thought made him take a long, hard swallow of the scotch to feel its burn, its heat, like sandpaper down his throat.

A rat in the galley. And what do we do when we have a rat in the galley, eh? Why we put out a trap or two. Make sure there’s a lure there to entice them, then let the trap snap their neck.

Well, at least he now had the Chief on his side. And he knew that, for however the man might feel about him, Macintosh would take the necessary precautions to safeguard essential systems in the future. For the briefest of moments, he’d considered the notion that the Chief himself had sabotaged the ship, but common sense prevailed. The man probably hated his guts, but it was no secret he loved the ship. The
Manhattan
was very much his baby, and Driscoll knew deep down there was no way the Chief would take a hammer to his own work. No, the Chief chiseled the marble, and spent forever polishing it. He’d never be one to knock it down, reduce all that work to rubble.

But someone tried.

Whoever the rat was, they’d have to try something different. Try harder, and Driscoll was under no illusion that they would try again. It was only a matter of how, where, and when.

For now, he would relax and drink. After, he would sleep. Tomorrow their mission would continue, to head further into the Cluster and determine what secrets lay at its heart. Discover just what it was the Draxx were building in there somewhere. Something was out there. The lizards came to the Cluster to conceal evidence of its construction from prying eyes. The question was… what were they building?

Well, he had come to do the opposite. No saboteur with idealist delusions was about to stop him. Not now, not ever.

Not before I’m done.

Driscoll drained his scotch, then got himself another.

ommander Robin Teague handed over to the night shift and headed to her quarters. She felt beat and, just like Captain Driscoll, in dire need of a good hot shower.

It still felt like a comfort to her, to have amenities like that at her disposal. As a child growing up in the shadow of the camps on Mefista Prime, a shower would have been considered a luxury. Now, she took it for granted.

Strange how life can turn around.
She stepped inside her quarters and locked the door behind her. She kept the lights down low, showered, then sat on the edge of her bed wrapped in a towel. A comb ran through her wet hair while she listened to the gentle thrum of the ship’s engines, so quiet as to be almost imperceptible.

It relaxed her. She’d read before that to some it was almost reminiscent of being in the womb―of listening to the muffled beat of your mother’s heart through walls of tissue. Here, the tissue was layer upon layer of alloys and polymers. The principle was the same.

Robin liked the simple pleasure of letting herself unwind to its harmonious rhythm.

Unlike Captain Driscoll, she was not bothered by the events of that day. Her thoughts did not dwell on who might be trying to sabotage the
Manhattan
―only on how she might do it better next time. Destroying the capacitors had, perhaps, been too obvious a move.

Next time I’ll do better. Next time I’ll do it right. And not Driscoll, or anyone else on this ship will stop me…

On Mefista Prime, once their parents had left and it was only the children in the camps, a new presence had made himself known. Not a reptile like the rest of the Draxx―though, as a race, they all varied in degrees. No, this man was just that.

A man.

She pictured him now, striding into the camp, dressed completely in black. On his face he wore a mirrored mask that gave no clue to the being within. He had trained them, instructed them, made them all see the light.

Made them abhor the Union for what it had done, invading Draxx space and claiming Draxx worlds for its own. Gradually, over time, the children had come to see his point of view. The man wasn’t there all the time―he came and went, and when he was away, the Draxx continued his work.

We were shown the light.

As she rose through the ranks, as she took promotion after promotion, Robin kept in touch with the others from the camp. They too had come to fulfill prominent roles within the Union.

They too had sworn an oath to do what was right―to act when the time was right.

Robin stripped out of her towel and got into bed. Again, another luxury.

It had always seemed to her that humanity surrounded itself with things―the best gadgets, the most comfortable surroundings. It cushioned itself against reality.

Well, now humanity would have that cushion taken away. It would stand trial for what it had done throughout the galaxy. And she would see to it that people like Captain Driscoll were made accountable for their crimes.

Robin ensured their communications relays were activated once again. A member of the Draxx Alliance within the Union Science Sector had told her just how to do it. Now, when the time was right, she would be sure to get a message to her true people.

General Carn would know precisely what to do next. He’d instruct her as to how to proceed. And in the meantime? Commander Teague would lead the hunt for the saboteur, of course. Anything to shine the light on someone else. Perhaps even implicate an Officer she didn’t like in the process, just for kicks.

And of course, following her act of sabotage earlier on that day, she had made precautions to take it a step further if need be. When the engineering crews had vacated their section, the Commander had taken the opportunity to plant a substantial packet of explosives on the reactor itself. If her missions were jeopardized in any way, at least she could end the whole charade in a glorious display of fireworks. There was no way the engineers would detect it, not disguised as it was.

In her bed, in the dark, Robin smiled.

This is only the beginning. Driscoll’s walked right into a trap. He doesn’t know the full scale of what’s going on here. What takes place in the Cluster will decide the War itself. And nothing will stop me in my mission.

She thought of the detonator she’d hidden behind a bulkhead on deck eight, where nobody would find it. A simple device consisting of a battery, transmitter and a big red button. Basic, in every respect. But idealists fighting for a greater good had long ago come to realize that the simplest methods were usually the best. The more complicated something was, the more chances there were at failure.

I have only to press a button, and it’s game over for Driscoll. Game over for all of them…