“How many of those ‘discoveries’ are directly tied to the study of Avalon anatomy?” Keryn asked. She would have never believed that she could hear someone blush over the radio, but Wyck proved her wrong as he began to stammer a response. Keryn was quick to cut him off and end his torturous reply. “Wyck, I don’t care about that. However, I did just tell an entire room full of pompous Captains that we were going to continue the Deplitoxide research because I have some of the most talented scientists in the entire Alliance onboard. Don’t prove me wrong.”
“No, ma’am,” Wyck stuttered. “Absolutely not.”
“I believe you,” she replied sweetly. “I just need you to stay focused on our mission right now. Love will always wait for you. If you make a remarkable breakthrough in your research, feel free to wake me up. Otherwise, I’m going to be sleeping off a painful meeting.”
“Wait!” Wyck yelled into the radio, stopping her before she was able to sign off. “I almost forgot. You have a message from High Council waiting for you on your bedroom console. I forwarded it there, since I didn’t figure you wanted everyone knowing your business.”
Keryn paused, perplexed. “You did the right thing, Wyck. Any idea what they want?”
“I’m a hacker, Keryn,” he replied. “But even I know when I need to mind my own damn business.”
Keryn smiled, proud of her computer genius. “Thanks, Wyck. If it’s important, I promise to tell you all about it.”
“That’s the other reason I didn’t check it,” he answered. “You haven’t let me down yet.”
“Now get back to work on your research,” Keryn said. “I’m heading to my room.”
Keryn tried to make assumptions about what the High Council would have to say to her personally. All she could imagine was that they were sending personal congratulations for her successful mission. Still, it seemed like overkill from an organization as influential as High Council. Without realizing it, Keryn increased her pace, eager to reach her quarters. Entering her access code, Keryn slipped inside the room and activated the lights. Adam hadn’t returned yet, but that didn’t surprise her. Aside from taking care of Iana, Adam was on duty on the bridge right now. For a moment, she pondered waiting for him to return before listening to the message, but curiosity got the better of her.
Sitting down in front of her console, Keryn saw the small red light blinking, telling her that a video message waited for her. Activating the screen, the symbol of the High Council emerged from the black monitor. Slowly, the screen dissolved into a picture of six wizened faces sitting around a semi-circular table. Sitting at the head of the table, an elderly Wyndgaart man began speaking.
“Magistrate Riddell,” he began, his voice coarse from age. “We would like to extend our sincerest appreciations for completing your mission and retrieving the Deplitoxide. Your mission was fraught with danger and losses, both personal and professional. For that, we are truly sorry.”
Keryn paused the video, immediately stunned by the fact that the High Council was already aware of her success so quickly after her reunion with the Fleet. She returned to a question that had been asked many times during her tenure in the Fleet: where was the elusive High Council actually located? Was it possible they were actually traveling incognito amongst the Fleet ships even now? Or did they have access to faster-than-light communications technology that allowed near instantaneous reports to flood in from throughout Alliance space? Pushing such questions aside, Keryn continued the video.
“I wish that our message for you was only full of congratulatory praise for your mission completion, but that simply isn’t the case. Instead, we have a new urgent mission for you and you alone. Do not include anyone else on your crew or within the ranks of the Fleet for this mission. This mission is being shared with you with the utmost secrecy.”
The Oterian Councilmember spoke next. “A few weeks ago, we received a direct communication from Captain Hodge, formerly the Commander of the Fleet. Captain Hodge was acting as an agent of the High Council, reporting ship movements and battle tactics to the High Council for our review and recommendations. Such practices are hardly unheard of amongst the Commanders of the Fleet. Though we were not expecting a communication from her when her message arrived, we were even more surprised by its content. Her message was full of fear and concern for not only her own well-being, but that of the entire Fleet. In her own words, there was a madman loose amongst the Officers of the Fleet committing atrocities, going as far as accusing this madman of murder. As you may or may not be aware, a Magistrate on board the Revolution was arrested for murdering a superior officer and confined to the brig. We believed that with this traitor in custody, Captain Hodge’s concerns would be laid to rest. Unfortunately, Captain Hodge was killed in the recent conflict, leaving Captain Xiao to assume the mantle of Commander of the Fleet.”
Picking up where the Oterian left off, the gravelly voice of the Lithid Councilmember chimed in. “That is where our involvement in this communication began. You see, the last part of the report from Captain Hodge involved her begging for our involvement should something fatal happen to her. She knew that there was a chance she would be killed, murdered by this madman on board her own ship. To assure retribution, Captain Hodge named the man she thought ultimately responsible for the death of Eminent Merric and, should she die, the perpetrator of her own death. The man she named surprised us, especially when we found out that he was now her successor.”
Keryn’s heart pounded in her chest as she realized what the Oterian meant. The Avalon Councilmember added the final punctuation, the name of which Keryn already guessed. “Captain Hodge named her murderer as none other than Captain Xiao, her second in command. We have attached the video report from Captain Hodge for your review. Once it is complete, we will explain the mission which we want you to undertake.”
The screen changed, the council room disappearing and being replaced by a pale Avalon face. Keryn recognized Captain Hodge immediately, though her face was more drawn and worried than Keryn remembered. The Captain looked like she had aged decades in the short time they were apart. Her face was shrouded by shadows, the only light in the room being reflected from the screen itself. As the picture finished its transformation, it began automatically playing. A singing Avalon voice filled her room as she watched.
“This is communication number seventy-two between the Commander of the Fleet and High Council. This communication is being sent at an irregular interval, the contents of which have been heavily coded to ensure that its message is for the Councilmembers’ eyes only.
“As reported previously, my second in command, Eminent Merric, was murdered. His body was disposed of in the exhaust vent of the plasma engines, leaving little biological evidence that he had been murdered at all. We have arrested Magistrate Vangore, my former Communications Officer, for the murder, based on evidence collected and from his own confession under duress from the Crown.”
Captain Hodge paused, searching for the words. “There is no other way to state it other than telling the truth: I don’t believe he’s guilty. I believe Magistrate Vangore was framed for the murder. I know that one of your questions will pertain to proof of my assumption. I have none. There is no definitive evidence that Vangore did not commit this atrocious crime. In fact, all the evidence, including now a confession, leads us to believe that he is incredibly guilty of the accused crime.
“My only evidence on the contrary will never hold up in Alliance court. My sense that he isn’t guilty came from the look in his eyes. I don’t mean Vangore’s eyes. I mean Squadron Commander Xiao’s eyes. I have spoken with Yen Xiao multiple times since the murder was committed. It was his clue that led us to Vangore in the first place. However, I couldn’t ignore the fact that during every one of our conversations following the murder, something gleamed in Yen’s eyes. I think he was enjoying himself. It sounds paltry, placing so much faith in the look of someone’s eyes, but there was a homicidal bliss in his look when he would discuss how he thought Vangore committed the murder. He seemed to me like a puppeteer telling his fairy tale while pulling the strings of his marionette. I can’t help but feel that Vangore was that puppet, having his strings pulled.”