If Gabriel fails to commune with the Eve Mind then a great scientific wonder will go to waste and she'll have to be killed. If he succeeds there will always be the possibility that she will only trust him, that the Eden Fleet will fall under his control by proxy or that she'll earn their trust just long enough to come get in contact with her Fleet and turn on everyone.
Collins would have kept the vault shut, in fact he might have built another vault around this one and throw away the key if he had time, but I'm not Collins. He concluded with a smile. “Count me in, but even while I'm off hunting down and kill Jacob Valent I'm all the way in. You tell me everything, and I mean everything until I decide to get the hell out of the range of whatever this apocalypse is.”
“You are to flush out Jacob, get him out of hiding if we cannot catch him ourselves, not kill him. The messages concerning him and his people are still conflicting, uncertain. His interference may yet be required in the future and that won't be available if he's in hiding.”
“All right then, I'll scare him out of hiding, but you keep me up to date and in the loop or everything Collins knew gets cut off.”
“Agreed. I think you might be easier to work with, actually. Collins and I were often at odds.”
“I know,” Wheeler said as he stepped forward and punched in the password to open the vault. After a few seconds the door split down the middle and slowly began to part.
The hologram of young Lister Hampon, the High Seat of the Order of Eden began to fade as he smiled up at Lucius. “I'll see you when you emerge from the wormhole.”
What Comes Around…
Stephanie couldn't help but be reminded of the last time she'd been in the infirmary. She watched Grace, the head medical officer at the time, hold a laser scalpel to the back of a patient's neck. No one but Grace and herself were aware of the hidden threat, and it bought the traitor time. It didn't matter; Grace was killed not long afterwards because she had left Stephanie no other choice.
The whole thing complicated her relationship with Frost, especially since the last thing Grace accused her of was killing her so she could take Frost for herself. Getting together with the Gunnery Chief may have been an easy decision for her but it wasn't as easy for the crew to deal with, there was still animosity between the Gunnery Crews and Security Teams because of their last public fight. What would happen if Frost discovered her night with the Captain?
She tried to put it out of her mind as Frost noticed her coming in. He was reclining on a medical pallet waiting for the treatment systems to finish scanning the stump at the end of his shin. “'Bout time. Was thinkin' you'd never show.”
Stephanie smiled and walked up to his bedside. “You on your back? I wouldn't miss this for anything.”
The scan of Frost's healed stump completed and one of the few medical workers, a fellow with a shaved head and kind eyes, shorter than herself, came around. He took a look at the scan results and nodded. “We'll start materializing your prosthetic right away sir. Sorry we couldn't grow you a foot.”
“Aye, still don't understand why,” Frost spat back irritably. “The instructions are right in the computer, if it were me I'd just follow 'em.”
“Like I said before, it's not that simple. If I grow you one and attach it but something-”
“Aye, if somethin' went wrong I could be worse off. Fine,” Frost finished for him. “Just put somethin' on that stump so my Gunners aren't lookin' at me sideways for the rest o' the trip.”
“Yes sir,” the medical tech said with a sobered nod to Frost. “Good to see you Chief,” he said to Stephanie with a small smile.
“Don't mind him, he gets irate whenever I save his ass,” Stephanie whispered as though Frost couldn't hear her.
“Oh, that explains everything,” the medical tech said, rolling his eyes as he started towards the materializer across the room.
“Save my ass?” Frost said with a raised eyebrow. “I lost some good loaders in that fight, we kept 'em off ya while you blasted at 'em.”
Stephanie stopped feigning a pleasant demeanour but kept her voice low. “We lost people. You, me, maintenance and Triton as a whole. There's no point in comparing loss.”
“Fine, I'm just sayin' that it woulda been worse if my loaders hadn't a been there.”
Stephanie sighed, more to take a moment in an attempt to remain calm than anything else. She went on in a whisper; “I told you to get back, you didn't, and the fact that you're sitting here waiting for a new foot doesn't drive anything home.”
“This is just the part o' the cost, lass. Us gunners polish our decks in blood on days like this.”
“More like testosterone,” she muttered as she turned and strode for the exit.
“Ye can't give orders on my deck lass!” Frost called after her.
“Enjoy your new foot!” she called back over her shoulder. “Should be a great battle scar to show the boys!”
Stephanie nearly walked right into Ashley as she turned the corner outside of the infirmary. She was carrying two white, blocky food containers. “Coming to visit someone?”
“I came to see you. From the sound of your talk with Frost it was a good idea,” Ashley grinned and presented one of the containers to her with an outstretched arm. “For you.”
Stephanie smiled back at her and accepted the package. “Thank you, I haven't eaten in I don't know how long.” They started walking towards the lift, both women quietly restraining themselves from stopping right on the spot and tearing into the fragrant insulated meals. “What's for dinner?”
“Dim sum, vegetable lo mein, lychee soda and a brownie.”
“Oriental again?”
“Couldn't resist, especially since the materializers in the commissaries and pubs are so much better at making food than the ones in our quarters now. The lower ranks almost don't mind having their materializers deactivated.”
They stepped into the lift and Stephanie highlighted the rear of the command deck as their destination. “Maybe he'd have some advice on what to do. I'm in a spot, Ash,” Stephanie finished in a whisper, keenly aware of the three crew members who were already in the lift.
Ashley gave her a sidelong look, the lightness and humour falling away. “Aren't you supposed to give me advice?” She whispered.
“I think the tables are turned this time,” Stephanie replied, lightening her visible mood as the lift doors opened and the express car admitted two more. She couldn't help but sigh as it started in the wrong direction, towards the front of the lower berths. “Anyway, how's the helm?”
Ashley perked up a little, as much for their audience of five as for her best friend. “Great. Panloo's taking the shift. She's doing really well, has gotten a good feel for how the ship moves.”
“The ride's been pretty smooth in ship wide sims while she's at the helm.”
“Yup, she sticks to the safe manoeuvres but I'd rather see that than anything else.”
“How's Nevin turning out?”
“Nevil, actually. He's taking the qualifier for Triton tonight.”
“That was quick.”
“Well, he was a pilot on a five M rig for a few months, in comparison the Triton's smaller.”
“I doubt he had to fly it in combat.”
“Sorry, Ma'am, but what's a five M rig?” asked a nafalli in a loose fitting maintenance vacsuit. The fur of his face stood out straighter than the average nafalli, and was an intermix of blonde and brown shades.
“S'okay, we know you're listening.” Ashley smiled at him. “It's just a shorter way of saying a fifty megaton rig, one of those really big containment.”
“Oh, thank you ma'am. I tried the Triton qualifier for fun, I can't see how anyone could pass it.”
“It's hard, you have to keep thinking in three dimensions and know where your best thrust points are. Besides, there are about two dozen tutorials leading up to the final qualifier. If you don't do most of them anyone would be pretty lost. What's your call sign? Would I have seen you in sims?”