He wheeled himself outside his room. Probably Max’s idea to give him this antique wheel chair instead of an anti-grav floater.
He saw his targets. Max was backing him and Shepherd stood in front the doctor. Max would soon reconsider the decision to give him this chair. He wheeled it right into the doctor.
Max let out a muffled squeal and turned to swipe at whatever had hit him.
Aaron grinned at Max. “Oh sorry. I haven’t quite learned to control this thing yet—easy to get going, but not so easy to stop.”
Max shifted and stood next to Fleet Admiral John Shepherd, Supreme Commander. The head honcho over all the United Star Systems Fleet. Shepherd was a full head taller than Aaron, and that made him a full two heads over Max. From the wheelchair that gave him an even more imposing glare than usual.
Shepherd’s features had not a trace of age, no lines, no creases, only slightly greyed tips by his temples. It was intriguing because it was common knowledge Shepherd never indulged in anti-aging treatments. He might reconsider when his bones turned brittle. It wasn’t uncommon to live in good health past 120 years. However, medical advancements couldn’t compensate for declining brain activity as well as it could the physical body, and most people stopped the anti-aging treatments around that age and accepted the inevitable.
Max was about to respond but Shepherd beat him to it.
“He looks in good spirits to me, and almost quite able,” Shepherd said. He looked down at Aaron. “Commander . . . Aaron, I am thrilled to the bone to see you . . . moving around. I was just discussing your progress with the doctor.”
It seemed like he was about to say more but Max cut in.
“Aaron,” he said. “Turn around and wheel yourself back into the ward. You’re under my care and I haven’t cleared you for any kind of duty.” Max was serious. He never got serious, unless the welfare of a patient was in jeopardy. What’s really going on here?
Aaron shook his head. He wasn’t playing this game again.
“Someone needs to tell me right now what you two are bickering about out here, and what it’s got to do with me.” He almost forgot he was speaking to the Supreme Commander.
Almost.
Aaron gritted his teeth and pushed his palms down on the arms of the wheelchair. His veins bulged, either the arms would break or he would stand. Max reached out when he realized what Aaron was doing.
Aaron groaned with one final shove and stood.
He felt woozy from the effort. Standing probably hadn’t been a good idea. “I’d threaten physical violence but I think you’d just laugh. Someone talk to me.”
Max shook his head. “Stubborn . . . pig-headed . . . I’ve toiled these past few months, sweat and tears and you’re going to undo it all.”
“No one lives forever, Max. I got a second chance. Aside from a few kinks, I’m fine.” He rubbed his temples. And an infernal headache.
Max threw his hands in the air. “Right, right, ‘no one lives forever’. Your silly lifelong motto. But no one tries their best to end it soon either.” With that Max stormed down the deck towards the medical ward.
Something was deeply troubling the doctor. Aaron could never fluster him. He turned to Shepherd.
“Sir?”
Shepherd hesitated before he replied.
“Commander Alvarez, as you know, took command of Endeavor three weeks ago. He was on a mission for me. He was investigating the disappearance of one of our survey vessels near the Terran Union.”
The Terran Union, a small human enclave, twenty light years beyond USS space. Three star systems and Lumia, a tech-4 world, was the capital planet.
Aaron’s knees felt weak. More from the effort than from Shepherd’s story so far. He eased back into the chair. This was something he should listen to sitting down.
Shepherd looked him over. “Follow me to my office, Commander.”
***
He wheeled his chair behind Shepherd to his office on the administration deck. It was midnight station time and not much personnel were around.
The Supreme Commander had a bottle of Aaron’s favorite carbonated drink.
Shepherd handed him a personnel device with scanty details on it. “The news of the sudden appearance by a vessel claiming to originate from the Outer Rim has rattled nerves here in Sol. We have little info about the human enclaves that far out. The only thing I can tell you is they are the descendants of early space explorers and colony ships which left Earth in the latter half of the twenty-first century. That and some other fanciful rumors floating around from some not-very-credible sources, all of which is detailed there on your handheld in the full mission brief.”
Shepherd looked at the bottle, shrugged and poured some for himself. “Even with current modern FTL tech, the Outer Rim is a five-year journey. That fact alone makes the appearance of a ship claiming to be part of such an alliance ominous. We only know bits and pieces about the Outer Rim. Mostly tales told by long haul freighter captains and crew, and not much else. It’s not exactly a trip to Rigel.”
The SC sipped the drink slowly. His mouth twisted. “Rayne, this stuff is horrible, how could you drink this?
Aaron shrugged. “It’s an acquired taste, sir.”
“Right.” Shepherd picked up his thought. “Constellation reappeared seemingly from nowhere . . . and they were immediately attacked by the ORA warship. An Imperial ship fought them off but Endeavor vanished during the attack. Although, not before she sustained heavy damage.”
Aaron raised his eyebrows. “Vanished?”
“That’s the second ominous fact. Constellation returned through what we now believe to be a stable Einstein-Rosen bridge. During the battle, Alvarez took Endeavor through to prevent her destruction by the ORA. He must have felt it was a gamble, but given that Constellation returned, the only other choice was…”
“A Trident scenario again. I understand, sir.”
Shepherd rounded to face him. “We’ve debriefed Constellation’s crew. After their unexpected trip down the rabbit hole, the event horizon at their exit point closed. Not to be discouraged, although stranded many years from our sector, they found the other side clear and decided to do what scout ships do—scout.
“They detected first the construction of a large orbital structure in deep-space not far from the wormhole. After skulking around a bit at warp, some other ORA ships must have detected them and moved to intercept. That’s when Constellation decided to try their luck and returned to the coordinates of the wormhole. Apparently open for business now and stable, they entered and reappeared amongst the showdown. No one knows if their entry from the other side caused the stable formation on our side. There was nothing there apart from strange anomalous readings nine days ago.
“Since then, we’ve received an audio only communication, matching the voice pattern of the ORA commander, claiming Endeavor and its crew are their prisoners having violated their sovereign territory. We don’t recognize the ORA, and we certainly don’t recognize their absurd claim to deep space. The nearest planetary system is twenty light years beyond the wormhole on their side. Their continued detention of our people and the attack on Endeavor is an act of war.
“We will respond accordingly. First, we want back our ship and our people. Another covert team on one of our covert ops corvettes has confirmed the location of Endeavor and where the crew is held. They went in before we received the ORA communication and didn’t have the resources to affect a rescue. At the time they couldn’t get comms through the wormhole, so they returned with this information. However, the captain deployed a covert observation drone in the system. If the crew or Endeavor is moved, we’ll know it once you arrive.