The Icarus operative - 1. One

Civilian Trading Ship Persephone travelingfrom Launchhole UIV to Launchhole UXII in the outter rim of the Galactic Bar

Covenant Year 329

UPON THE ARREST

Athsari Rodríguez shifted her position on the bridge of the Persephone -the helm-, as they moved through baryonspace. She was a rather talented woman, for very few people her age could navigate baryon space with such accuracy as well as efficiency. They were coming to the end of the wormhole and approaching Launchhole UXII, from where they were to travel to the Phinari System.

“We’re now clearing the last section of the baryon tunnel, Captain,” Athsari said as she turned from her screen console to face Captain Auriel Bristow, The Persephone’s commanding officer.

Captain Bristow was sitting comfortably on her command chair as she acknowledged her pilot’s report, slightly smiling. The Captain’s chair was behind the piloting and tactical consoles, right in the middle of the room and right in front of the door to the bridge.

“We’ll be arriving in Launchhole UXII,” Athsari continued as she looked at the stats in her console, “in 4 … 3 … 2 … 1.”

Suddenly, the space inside the wormhole vanished, to be replaced by normal space. The Persephone experienced the typical kick any ship did when coming out of the hole, and the metal ring-like construction that was Launchhole UXII appeared on their field of vision on the side windshields of the ship. It was a massive construction, a gigantic masterpiece of Danaaren architecture built in plasteel. It stood vertically and several ships were attached to it through the retractable docking worms.

The Captain grabbed the arms of her command chair and looked at her pilot maneuvering The Persephone into place to plug itself to the Launchhole on its left side via the Docking Tower. There were some other civilian ships, cargo freighters and transport ships coming and going about as Athsari brought The Persephone into waiting mode for docking instructions. There were also several Covenant ships, patrols and the sort, in the vicinity of the hole.

“Civilian Trade Ship Persephone requesting docking worm.” Athsari said once she’d tapped the red button on the mic of her piloting ICD headset. A couple of seconds later, the screen located exactly in front of her bleeped and a blueprint of the Launchhole ring was displayed, with the worm coordinates blinking red in color, as oposed to the light green of the blueprint.

The piloting console of The Persephone was your typical piloting console in a trading ship, a semi-circular desk-like console with a semi-circular hole for the pilot to operate it. There was also a set of several stat and piloting screens around the desk-like console in front of the pilot and slightly under the windshield.

“Civilian Trade Ship Persephone, this is Launchhole UXII Control. Coordinates of docking worm have been transferred to your flight screen. Please acknowledge.”

“Acknowledged!” Athsari said, and looked at the blueprint of the hole displayed on her screen.

The blueprint showed the whole ring first, then zoomed to the ring section, then to the docking tower, and finally to the docking worm assigned to them. A fraction of a second later, a new blinking window appeared on the screen, requesting Athsari’s Piloting Authorization Code, which she keyed immediately into the space provided.

“Civilian Trade Ship Persephone, please hold, your PAC is being verified.” The communication went mute, and then re-established not more than twenty seconds later. “Civilian Trade Ship Persephone, your PAC has been confirmed. Welcome to Launchhole UXII, Ms. Rodriguez. Docking worm is ready at the designated coordinates.”

“Acknowledged, Launchhole Control.Persephone out.”

Athsari Rodriguez tapped the red button of the ICD headset once again to cut the communication. She tapped it twice and spoke. “Jay, I’m transferring docking blueprints and coordinates to your screen. Gimme impulse engines to dock and get ready to engage docking thrusters.”

“Aye, aye, Athsari.” Jay responded from the Engine Room.

The gifted pilot brought The Persephone about and leveled her docking hatch with the docking worm in a coordinated effort with Jay Aodhagán in the Engine Room. Two-point-five minutes later, The Persephone had been docked to The Launchhole Ring. Athsari removed the headset and placed it on her console. She turned to Captain Bristow and smiled.

“Done.” She said.

“Thanks Athsari,” the Captain said, and then smiled, “Well done.”

“Thank you, Captain.” The Mexican pilot replied.

The Captain tapped the ICD on the left arm of her command chair and spoke to her chief engineer, “Good job back there too, Jay.”

“Thanks Captain,” Jay said on the other side of the line, “Persephone’s done and ready.”

“Glad to hear that, Jay. Bristow out.”

The Captain stood up and took the micro headset from the right arm of the command chair and plugged it on her right ear walked towards the exit of the bridge. “Let me know as soon as you’ve arranged schedules with Launchhole Control, so we can be on our way. We still have to deliver the Ahmoses to the Phinari System…”

“Yes, Captain.” Athsari replied.

“... and the goods in Kalandar, as well.”

Then, Bristow turned around and tapped the red button of her her micro headset ICD. This time, the voice on the other end was for her ears only. It was that of Hadzaana Missdon, ThePersephone’s first hand.

“Missdon here, Captain.”

“Hadz,” Bristow said, “please join me on the Bridge ASAP.”

“Aye, aye, Captain,” she said with her strong Ian accent, “Launchhole control?”

“Both Athsari and Jay will be on the bridge to work out details with Launchhole Control. I need to have a word with you.”

“On my way, Captain,” Hadzaana said, “Missdon out.”

“I’m going back to my office. Keep me apprised of the situation with Launchhole control.” The Captain said as she headed towards the exit of the Bridge. Her lovely straight brown hair, falling all the way to her shoulders, moved sideways following the natural movement of her head as she walked. She bit her small yet thick red lips, something she tended to do when she was under stress. The biting movements made both her strong cheek-bones and edged jaw show a bit more angular.

“Yes, Captain.” Athsari said.

“And let me know as soon as we’re ready...”

“… for takeoff. They will for sure, Captain.” Missdon, the tough-looking athletic First Hand of thePersephone, said interrupting the captain as she came into the Bridge surprising both Bristow and Rodriguez.

“I’ve told you a thousand times…”

“… Not to do that. I know.” Hadzaana finished for the Captain of The Persephone, “Can’t help it. It’s…”

“… inevitable,” Bristow finished the sentence this time, playing the same game that her friend was playing, “You’ve said as much before. Walk with me.”

“Aye, aye, Captain.”

Hadzaana followed Auriel off the Bridge and towards the Captain’s office. Auriel smiled to herself once again as she walked, closely followed by her First Hand, and having fun at just how funnily annoying her friend could be at times.

Hadzaana Missdon was a rather attractive woman, something Auriel Bristow would not have admitted of anyone else, for she would not recognize someone being more beautiful than she was. Hadz’s beauty, however, was different; she was beautiful in a more exotic kind of way: tall and slender, with a pair of rather toned arms … and an equally attractive set of breasts, nothing big, but in the right proportion with her athletic physique. Her complexion was sort of dark, kind of Egyptian. She had short asymmetric black hair, very short on the left side and following a spiral around her head which made it long on the right. A hair cut not in fashion anymore.

She had full lips and no eyebrows to speak of; she did have a tattoo, though, on her right eye from a little to the side of her nose bridge, circling all around the orbit and finishing on her cheekbone; it could have been easily mistaken for a moon, but Auriel knew it was a ceremonial blade of some sort. Her eyes looked so dark that one would’ve thought they were black if one didn’t know that was a genetic impossibility, in Utopians at least.

Auriel had known Hadzaana for so long they were able to finish each other’s sentences every time they spoke; a game they liked to play more often than not. She’d hired Hadzaana almost ten years before, when she had made her dream come true: ThePersephone; the ship that had become her own business and her most cherished desire: personal and financial freedom.

But Auriel’s friendship with Hadzaana dated back far beyond, because she and the First Hand of thePersephone had grown up together in the orphanage back on Uruk Mebar, the First Utopian colony on space, settled on Io, one of Jupiter’s Moons. They’d both come of age together on Uruk Mebar and had enlisted to join the Covenant Army; an action that would soon prove to be a mistake for both of them: Hadzaana had been dismissed from the Academy in her second year because of her lack of discipline, and Auriel on her third. Auriel couldn’t help but smile as she now remembered how Hadz had called Admiral Donovan ‘a selfish chauvinistic son of a bitch’ to his face, because he’d chosen Cadet Mark Dollberg over her in a command exercise. That, obviously, had granted her expulsion from the Covenant Army Academy in those years.

Auriel had left the Covenant Academy for inappropriate behavior, but truth was that she’d been set up by a group of officers. Auriel had come across some confidential information that compromised an admiral and she was invited to keep quiet. She had not been able to live with herself and she eventually quit. Ever since, Auriel Bristow had had to put up with Hadzaana’s mistrust for the Covenant Army and the Covenant itself. It was no secret for any member of the crew of The Persephone, that Hadzaana did not trust the Covenant Army, and she would probably never do. She had always made sure everyone knew it, and every one for sure did. Auriel was not quite convinced whether Missdon’s mistrust was out of place for once; but, on the other hand, she still believed in The Covenant and still believed things could be done to salvage the institution that had once brought the galaxy together.

Both Bristow and Missdon walked through the narrow metal gray corridor aft of the ship, until they were both in a small space facing three doors, and they stopped in front of the one to their right, the door to Bristow’s office.

The other two doors were, to their left, the cleaning supply room; in front of them, the messhall. Auriel loved the corridors in her ship, all in the silver color of plasteel. She loved the luminescent cyan light strips located halfway through the corridor walls. When the lights were out at night, those cyan dim lights made Auriel feel in the warmth of her home.

She pulled the leaver left of her doorframe and the door slid open. She came into the office followed by Hadzaana, who did not close the door; Missdon had know her Captain and friend long enough to know she enjoyed watching her crew come and go as she worked. She had always suspected there was also something of a claustrophobic feeling in there, but she’d never been able to prove it.

Auriel’s office was not really crowded with office stuff. Actually there was a desk, her chair, and a chair across from hers. There was also a cabinet on the left wall, with some accounting books and padnics, and some other stuff including little nothings from places she’d been to since she’d started trading.

Auriel gestured for Hadzaana to sit down on the chair across from hers. While her first hand made herself comfortable, Auriel walked towards the file cabinet, where an elliptic silver-color appliance rested. She pushed a button on a side, the only button on it to speak of, and said:

“Coffee.Ian Mix. Espresso.” She tapped the upper surface of the thing lightly, which made it iris-open and bring out a ceramic black mug filled with steaming dark hot espresso.

“Care for an espresso?” She asked, but Hadzaana Missdon made a yuk face and the Captain went around the desk to sit on her chair, across from her First Hand.

“So, Auri, care to tell me what this is all about?”

She nodded as she sipped from her mug of coffee. Coffee was probably one of the simple pleasures in life which she really adored. It was kind of a luxury these days, but she’d never regretted spending some of her wedge on the nice Ian mix she would get in Nabï Yünus. Drinking coffee made her feel at home, just like the cyan light strips on the corridors of her ship. She sometimes wondered if the coffee somehow connected her to her past. She had the feeling someone around her in her early years was a coffee lover. But so far as she could remember, she had always been an orphan.

After a long sip, she left the mug on her desk, next to the padnic in which she kept the accounts of ThePersephone. She was about to speak, when the ICD on her desk bleeped twice. Unable to believe something had come up so fast, and rolling her eyes for Hadzaana to see, she tapped the ICD’s button and answered.

“Bristow here.”

“A subby for you, Captain,” Jay Aodhagán’s sweet yet masculine voice sounded on the other side of the ICD, “from a Captain Karani, on board Launchhole UXII. He says it’s urgent.”

“Patch it through, Jay…Bristow out.”

Just what a Covenant Captain might want from her as to be contacting her via subspace and saying it was urgent, was a mystery that was about to be unveiled. And Bristow had the feeling she was not going to like it at all. She had never been a woman for mysteries and did not enjoy not being in control. She had always been like that, always trying to keep everything in her grip. Probably because of all the things she’d lacked as a kid, a therapist in the orphanage had said during sessions. The shrink might have been right; and then again she might not. But she did like to be in control. She did have an idea, however, that the Ahmoses might be involved.

The ICD bleeped and she heard the cold and unfriendly voice of Captain Karani, of The Covenant Army, through the ICD, at the same time as his cold visage showed in the ICD screen displaying the subspace transmission. Almost instantly, she picked up the accent which let her know the man was native to the Rivulan System, probably from Halan II.

“Captain Bristow? This is Captain Ma’kor Karani of the Covenant Army.”

“So I heard from my Chief Engineer,” Bristow said, an edge of coldness in her voice to match that of the Covenant’s Captain, “What is it I can do for you, Captain Karani?”

“I’m coming onboard your ship, Captain Bristow. There’s an urgent matter we need to discuss … in private.”

As Karani uttered the words ‘in private’, Hadzaana made a face mocking the Covenant Captain and mimicking the phrase. Auriel made a preternatural effort not to burst into laughter as she spoke via the subnet with the man.

“I’d be interested in knowing what we might have to discuss, Captain,” she said regaining composure and feeling puzzled about Karani’s claim … she did not, however, let her bewilderedness show in her tone, “When can we expect you?”

“We’re coming through the launchhole ring and into the docking tower as we speak, Captain. We should be crossing the worm and at your docking exit in no time.”

“It’ll be an honor to receive you on board the Persephone, Captain Karani. Bristow out.”

As she tapped the ICD to cut the communication, she stood from her office chair and drank the remains of her espresso in just one swallow. She looked at her XO, the same puzzled expression in her friend’s face. She motioned Missdon to stand up, and they both walked back to the bridge, which was located centered on The Persephone’s forward bulkhead.

When Bristow and Missdon came on the bridge, Rodriguez was still there sitting facing her consoles, and Jay Aodhagán, the Chief Engineer, was standing right behind her. Jay had joined Athsari some moments before to go over Launching details for the following morning’s departure.

Auriel smiled to both her Pilot and her Chief Engineer as she came into the bridge of ThePersephone. It was not a big room like in many other trading ships, but a rather crammed up one, triangular in shape and no larger than 20 square meters. It had a windshield from side to side and, right under it, two semi-circular consoles with several screens and keyboards, alien to anyone who was not familiar with piloting. The consoles were those used by both Athsari and Hadzaana. The piloting console was on the right, and the tactical one –the first hand’s-, was on the left.

It was Jay Aodhagán the one who spoke first approaching the Captain as she came in.

“So, Cap’n,” he said, sounding a bit confused and rather curious, “What was that Cap’n Karani business all about?”

“I honestly don’t know, Jay,” Bristow told the Engineer, “but I’m under the impression we’ll find out soon enough.” She turned around and spoke to Hadzaana Missdon, “Please gather everyone in the messhall and wait for instructions. I’m going down to the main docking access to receive our guest. Oh! Have O’Malley meet me there.”

“Aye, aye, Captain.” Hadzaana said, bringing her right hand to her forehead in a “salute” mode; kind of like a personal joke between her and the Captain.

As she was by the door, Auriel Bristow turned on her heels and faced her first hand. “Oh, Hadz, by the way, make sure the imported goods are perfectly stored. We wouldn’t want them to get damaged as we are inspected…If inspected we are.”

“Will do, Captain.”

And having said so, she walked off the Bridge leaving Hadzaana in charge of getting the bunch together. The visit by this Captain Ma’kor Karani of the Covenant Army sounded more and more like a Covenant inspection. And Bristow was starting to suspect the why.

The Captain hadn’t had to say another word; when she’d talked to Hadzaana about the imported goods, she had definitely been referring to five people on board The Persephone: the Ahmoses –Arthur and Sasha-, Semyon Zalicker, Ja’rok Y’sool and Espinosa. So, her first instruction had been to hide all five men from this so called Captain Karani. And the only choice to comply with Auriel’s instruction was the hidden cubicle under the Engine Room.

“Are you out of your mind?” the handsome and rather outspoken thirtysomething-year-older aristocrat Arthur Ahmose had asked her, horrified at the prospect of spoiling a perfectly good silk custommade suit, “There’s no way all five of us are going to hide inside that cramped little space!”

Hadzaana Missdon had looked at the cute Ahmoses, Zalicker and Espinosa, and smiled as much as she could to hide her annoyance. “It’s either that,” she’d said, “or falling into the hands of the Covenant Army. I believe Captain Bristow had some very good reasons to believe you were to be hidden from covenant eyes. So, given that fact, and the faces you’ve just made, I imagine you would not consider a good option being put into Covenant custody, now, would you?

That had been enough to convince both Arthur Ahmose and his cousin to do as the First Hand had asked.

Once the men had been properly hidden, Hadzaana had gathered everyone else in the messhall of ThePersephone. It was an elliptic room, no larger than ten square meters from side to side; there was a long table in the middle with ten chairs around it and two smaller tables on one of the sides. On the other side, opposite to where the small tables were, there was a long arched window which connected the mess hall to the kitchen. There was also a big bulb lamp hanging from the ceiling with an orange screen over the main table. The mess hall was located on the fourth deck of ThePersephone from bottom to top, and in the stern, across from the main bridge.

“So, nobody has come onboard in the past month,” Hadzaana Missdon said looking at all the crew, “and this is the whole complement of ThePersephone, are we clear?

All the crew nodded.

“Ahmose, Zalicker, Y’sool, Espinosa … we’ve never heard these names. Bristow, Rodriguez, Melaree, Aodhagán, Stewart, Berzamo, Vince, O’Malley and me … that’s all there is to this ship. Right?”

All the crew nodded again.

It was nothing new for them, actually, having to hide someone or something. Since they’d come onboard The Persephone, most of them had been present at Covenant Inspections … when something had to be left out of sight.

This time was no different. Or so they thought.

They were all in front of her in the messhall, the crew of ThePersephone. The newest member on board was Athsari Rodriguez, and she’d been around for nearly four standard years already. The most senior was Hadzaana Missdon herself. And in-between, all of the others: Nikk Berzamo, Jay Aodhagán, Rharza Melaree, Merrilyn Stewart, Swift Vince and Phillip O’Malley. All of them trusted Hadzaana, probably as much as the Captain herself trusted her.

“So, now that we’re clear,” she said confidently, “go about your business until the Captain says otherwise. Dismissed.”

Every member of the crew then left the messhall, save for Merrilyn -who was halfway through with the day’s meal-, and Hadzaana went back to the bridge along with Athsari Rodriguez, both of them hoping this Covenant Inspection would finish as fast as possible.

She’d always thought the Captain’s command chair was the most comfortable chair in the whole ship, but this time, Hadzaana kept on shifting her position, as if there was something wrong with the seat. She had had a bad feeling about this Karani and his visit from the start, and she wished like hell it was over as of now. She had barely been on the Bridge for five minutes looking at stats once and again on the operations screen, when Missdon saw the ICD on the command chair blink. She tapped it and spoke.

“Missdon here.”

“Missdon, this is the Captain.”

“Go ahead, Captain.”

“Our Covenant friends here are going to conduct and inspection of The Persephone,” said Auriel Bristow on the other side of the ICD, giving the word friends an inflexion only Missdon could’ve read as a sign of trouble, “If you’d be so kind as to assist them…”

“It will be my pleasure, Captain,” Hadzaana said in her best poker voice.

“Good. Meet me at the docking gate.”

The inspection didn’t really take long. Hadzaana had taken three Covenant officers with her through every place in the ship, while Karani had stayed in the Captain’s office together with the Captain herself. It was a relief that Persephone was not a big ship, otherwise the tour would’ve taken much more time than the hour it had taken.

“Well,” Hadzaana told the officers as they finished the inspection tour in the Engine Room, “that was it.”

The officers didn’t even reply, but one of them turned aside and spoke as he pushed a small communication device inside his ear.

“All clear, sir.” He said.

“Are you absolutely positive? You checked every single space within the ship?” Karani asked, but Hadzaana couldn’t have heard him, since the communicator was only for the officer’s ears.

“That’s affirmative, sir,” the man said, “will do sir.”

He turned to his fellow officers and to Hadzaana Missdon.

“Captain Karani will meet us at the docking hatch. Thank you for your time, Officer Missdon.”

They walked away and she exhaled heavily, relieved that the inspection was finally over. She couldn’t help feeling amused at the mental image of the poor Ahmoses crammed inside the secret room with Zalicker, Y’sool and Espinosa. Now, she only had to wait for the Covenant personnel to leave the ship.

She was on her way to the bridge, when her headset ICD bleeped. She tapped it and, to her surprise, she heard Nikk Berzamo’s voice on the other side.

“Uh, sir … ma’am,” Nikk said.

“Nikk?” she asked completely surprised. She couldn’t really remember when it was the last time she’d seen Berzamo using an ICD.

“I thought you might want to come to the docking exit?” Berzamo said.

“What’s going on?”

“I think you’d better come right now and see for yerself, ma’am. ASAP … or before if possible.”

“I’m on my way, Nikk.”

“Berzamo out.”

Missdon kept on walking and accelerated her pace and looked at both Athsari and Jay, also headed to the Docking exit, two decks below, on the waist of The Persephone. They walked through the corridor, took an interdeck ladder down, walked a couple of steps and took another ladder one more deck down. She took a left and walked through the rather narrow corridor which conducted to the docking exit.

As she emerged from the corridor, Missdon looked in astonishment as Covenant Army Captain Ma’kor Karani dragged The Persephone’s Captain, through the corridor into the exit hatch, her hands secured to her back by a pair of phasic cuffs around her wrists. O’Malley, the ship’s “security officer”, and Vince Swift, Persephone’s accountant, were lying on the floor … unconscious.

“Now, what exactly is going on, may I ask?” she demanded from the Covenant men.

Captain Ma’kor Karani, the mean looking short Rivulan male, looked back at Hadzaana as he dragged Captain Bristow to the docking hatch. The man was uniformed in the Covenant Army officer fashion: one-piece white duty jumpsuit with integrated white footwear; and his Captain’s rank shown on the thin golden epaulets. More than a couple of decorations showed on the left chest of his jumpsuit.

“I’m taking your Captain into Covenant custody.” Ma’kor Karani spoke with contempt, “Isn’t that much obvious?”

“I thought the inspection was over. And your subordinates didn’t find whatever it is you were looking for.”

“Which does not necessarily mean you don’t know anything about it ….”

“Now, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Listen, ma’am, I’m not debating this with you. I’m taking your Captain into Covenant custody and that’s that.”

“On what grounds?” Missdon asked the Covenant Captain, choosing to ignore the man’s sarcastic tone and using her most arrogant one.

“Classified.” Was all he said arching an eyebrow and looking disdainfully at the woman.

Hadzaana Missdon looked daggers at the short Rivulan Captain, as if she could not believe her ears, but right before she could utter any other statement, the man beat her to it.

“Take a darn good piece of advice ma’am,” he said, “Take your ship out of Launchhole UXII and go about your business. Your Captain will not be able to take back her commission for a while. You’ll be advised when she is released from Covenant custody.”

“I’ll file ….”

“You can file whatever protests you want, ma’am.” The man interrupted her once again, “By the time you get an answer from Covenant Command, this whole thing would’ve long been over.”

“T’sall right, Missdon,” Bristow spoke in a cold and impersonal tone, very unlike her when addressing Hadzaana, “Better do as our friend here says.”

Captain Ma’kor Karani hit Bristow on the head with the back of his lasergun and the woman fell flat to the floor, hitting her face against the deck. Almost instantly, she spit blood. In Karani’s direction, of course, staining his white covenant boots.

“You’d do well keeping your mouth shut, Captain.” Karani said, and dissappeared through the exit hatch, dragging Captain Bristow out, and followed by the three Covenant soldiers that had been escorting him.

Athsari walked towards Hadzaana and placed her right hand on Hadzaana’s left shoulder. Rhartza Melaree, the robust and handsome doctor of the The Persephone, was already on the floor examining Philip O’Malley and Vince Swift.

“So, what do we do now?” Athsari asked Hadzaana, her Mexican accent barely perceptible in her words.

“We get the hell out of here. That’s what we do!”

Rharza Melaree looked at the First Hand of ThePersephone as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. “Are you outta yer fucking mind, are ya?” he asked with his strong Nabian accent, “We’re not leaving Auri in this fucking hellhole!”

Hadzaana Missdon inhaled deeply, as if she would be able to bring some calm to her already troubled mind. She then looked at the doctor and the rest of the crew and spoke as softly as she was able to manage.

“We’re leaving her, because that’s what she wants us to do. Once out of reach, we’ll figure a way to get her back.”

“Through official channels, that is? You’ve gotta be kidin’ me!” Melaree said incredulously, an obvious edge of sarcasm to his remark.

“Through whatever channels it takes.” Then she turned around and yelled at Jay to bring the Engines online, and Athsari to get on the pilot’s chair and start maneuvers with Launchhole Control.

“And,” she added as she was almost disappearing through the corridor, without even turning to the doctor, “do mind your fucking tone when talking to your XO Melaree!”