“I will not fail you,” Yen replied, releasing his breath only when the Captain had turned the corner at the end of the hall. Though he had maintained a cool demeanor throughout the search and the conversation afterward with Captain Hodge, Yen’s heart pounded in his chest. Alone in the hall, he slumped against the wall, relieving his body weight from his dangerously shaky legs. He had earned the trust of the Captain, but his work was far from done. The Captain was absolutely right: someone needed to be held responsible for Merric’s death. Yen had a pretty good idea of how to find someone to blame.
Yen made his way into the hangar and was almost immediately confronted by confused and probing pilots. Pushing her way to the front, Iana led the questioning.
“What’s going on, Commander?” she asked straight forward, placing her hands impatiently on her hips. “We’re woken up and told to report to battle stations. We all assume that we’ve found a rogue Terran ship. Instead, we’re held in the hangar for hours with no information whatsoever.”
“Settle down, Warrant Morven,” Yen said, knowing that would only spark her ire.
“I need to do an inspection of the hangar.”
“Settle down? Sir, I’ve got dozens of pilots who are now eager to blow something up.”
“Do me a favor, Iana,” Yen said, leaning toward his irritated second-in-command. “Take me on an inspection of the hangar bay. Afterward, I don’t care if you set up a fighting ring in the middle of the hangar and beat each other senseless. But right now, I’m conducting an investigation.”
Immediately, Yen cursed himself for his choice of words. Iana’s eyes lit up at the opportunity for gossip.
“Investigation?” she said loudly, drawing the attention of the other pilots. “What are you investigating? What happened?”
Yen grabbed her firmly by the arm and pulled her away from the prying eyes of the others. “I can’t tell you anything. If I could, believe me, I would. If you ever want to hear what’s going on, though, you’ll stay quiet now and just help me with the inspection.”
Iana pouted, her dejected look a practiced and professional appearance. “Fine, but you owe me,” she said coyly.
Iana led Yen around the bay in a haphazard inspection. Yen wasn’t wholly committed to his search, having known the results ahead of time. He already knew the body wouldn’t be found here, so instead he found himself day dreaming instead of diligently searching the dark corners of the hangar. Though the hangar bay was cavernous, the search took less than an hour.
He shared his appreciation for the pilots’ cooperation as he finished the search. Though he didn’t turn around, he heard Iana yell after him.
“Don’t forget, you owe me.”
The search of the weapons bays, while equally uneventful, did not go nearly as smoothly. Scyant was openly hostile at all turns, cutting him to ribbons with her dagger-like stares and equally sharp retorts to his accusations. Yen had expected little else after she suffered such painful rejections while sharing his bed, but it made his work difficult and uncomfortable. As quickly as possible, Yen finished his mandatory inspection and left, finding solace in the bridge of the Revolution.
On the bridge, the two crewmembers looked to Yen with inquisitive looks, but kept their questions to themselves. Taking the Captain’s chair behind Vangore and Tylgar, he reveled in the quiet and lost himself in the deep darkness of space as it was projected on the front screen. Soon, he would have to start the second part of his plan, sending suspicion spiraling even further away from him, but for the time, he stared at the screen. They moved at half the speed of light, having slowed to provide ample time for the searches. Though Yen knew that the Fleet moved at exceptional speeds, the distant stars remained far beyond their reach. Yen had found the tranquility within the stars long ago, as a fighter pilot. Soundless in the void of space, with the horizon of stars indefinitely beyond your reach, a pilot can lose himself, finding an inner peace as his vessel drifted between the stars. With the war so far away from their current position in known space, Yen let his eyes slip out of focus, as he stared into the distant nothing. Though time passed as he sunk lower into the Captain’s chair, time froze within his mind. He thought of a place and time light years away, when he had met a brash young Wyndgaart pilot, one who saved his life. His heart still raced at the thought of Keryn and he found himself, not for the first time, wondering what happened to her. She left before the invasion of Earth, before the Terrans unleashed their frozen hell upon Alliance space. He didn’t know if she still survived, but his heart ached at the thought of her lying dead or dying, buried in the darkness and the snow. Reality crept back into Yen’s thoughts. If he hoped to find Keryn, the Alliance would need to win the war. That could only be done if a culprit was accused in the death of Merric.
As his eyes slowly slid back to the present, Yen opened his hand and a blue filament coalesced in his palm. Someone needed to be blamed, Yen knew, even if they weren’t truly guilty. The psychic serpent in his hand responded to his thoughts, coiling around his fingers and darting in mock strikes into the open air near his arm. Yes, Yen had a plan and he knew it would ruin someone’s life, but it was inevitable if he ever hoped to find Keryn again.
“Keryn,” Yen whispered into the bridge.
The serpent leapt from his hand, elongating as it stretched beyond his reach. The blue psychic snake bared its fangs and sunk their power into the base of Vangore’s spine. The Wyndgaart Communications Officer jerked as the serpent’s head disappeared under the skin and reached into his subconscious mind. Vangore flinched as his mind became alight with psychic fire and whispered suggestions. Words flittered through his subconscious mind, filling it with thoughts not his own.
Merric, the voice whispered. Code. Engine room.
Vangore convulsed quietly while the mental dams in his mind broke free, flooding his synapses with an overload of information. Images fluttered through his mind, like triggered memories rising to the surface after being long forgotten. Only Yen knew that the memories running through his mind were not his own. The power coursed through Yen, pulsing down the length of the filament that ran between the two.
Stealing a glance at Tylgar sitting in the navigator’s chair, Yen debated sending a second filament in his direction. Instead, he showed impressive restraint by reeling in another blue filament that began to coalesce in response to his pondering. While Yen feared Tylgar turning around and seeing what he was doing, he was more concerned with the perception of the entire bridge being involved in a conspiracy against Merric. People were quick to accept a single man plotting bodily harm against another. But when it reached a point of multiple people working in an intricate, interwoven conspiracy, skeptics quickly arose in the ranks. One person is a fluke. Multiple people lends itself to a leadership failure and blatant mutiny against the established command. No, he wouldn’t do this to Tylgar unless the Lithid turned around.
As Yen’s thoughts wandered between Tylgar and Vangore, the Wyndgaart stopped his subtle convulsions. With its work done, the serpent slipped free from Vangore’s mind, coiling once again around Yen’s wrist. It flicked its tongue once toward the Communications Officer before turning and plunging into Yen’s open palm, disappearing from view with a final toss of its transparent blue tail.
In front of the Captain’s chair, Vangore began typing furiously on his overhead display, alternating between inputting and erasing new data. Sinking into the Captain’s chair once more, Yen let his eyes lose their focus once more as he stared out beyond the stars.