The security officer made his way to the empty galley. He looked around to verify he was alone and then pulled a small wadded up piece of paper out of his pocket and carefully unfolded it. The paper contained a small, handwritten note. The officer reread it then angrily crumbled it up and stuffed it back into his pocket and pounded his fist hard against a cabinet twice. Suddenly he stopped and drew a slow breath, held it for a moment, closed his eyes, and then exhaled.
"You're here, aren't you?" he asked to no one in particular. After ten seconds of silence, he repeated himself, then looked around, swore under his breath, and took a beverage container out of a dispenser.
He ran a hand through his greasy, dark hair. While he was fumbling with opening the a drink, he heard a door open and shut quietly in the distance. He waited twenty seconds, while calmly pouring himself a drink.
After a long draw from the glass, he said, "You're here, aren't you?"
A quiet voice from behind him said, "Always on your toes, Faeto. Who are you now..." a sharp intake of breath, then, "I see...you're Officer Kless...moving up in the world, aren't we. First rank...?"
"Second rank," the officer answered. "They don't do much in the way of background checks for second rank. For a first rank they would...they look deeply, possibly too deeply."
"And we both know what they would find. And that brings us back to you and me and our...shared history, no? It's been, what, 8 years since we last worked side by side? I didn't even know you were here."
"It was seven years. I've been busy. My recent 'promotion' came when I realized most of the security people would be on the escape ships. No one does background checks for the few of us who remain. And who would do the background check, but a security chief. And besides, I get to carry a gun. Two, actually." He drew the weapons from the holsters around his right and left hip and leveled them at the tall figured standing shadowed in the doorway entrance to the small galley.
"The right one's a standard issue Class 7 charge-pulse gun. Very nice. The black one on the left...never seen it. Where'd you get that? Come to think of it, where'd you get either of them. It's not like they'd just say, 'I see you claim to be the chief of security, but you have no ID, no uniform, no gun, guess we'll have to take your word, so here's something that can cut a man in two from behind a wall.'"
"First, I'm not the chief, I already said I'm second rank. It just so happens there are no first rank security officers lef-, around anymore. Second, this isn't the original uniform. It was the spare one. His clean one. His other one, which did have ID, this badge, in fact," and he pointed to a datacard on the breast pocket, "and had this weapon, one of the TWO I am pointing at you, I'll remind you, and various other useful things. The original uniform fit, but was a bit dirty, if you catch my float." The officer was of average height and build. But he looked short and stocky compared to the other man.
"Blood? Accidents happen?"
"Yes, but not the usual way. Kless, the real Kless, and I'd appreciate if that's how you refer to me, had been on Deck 7, Section F, when we had our little encounter with whatever the fuck that was. When the first engine blew, he was in a structurally sound area, but got hit with what must've been 100 gray or more of hard radiation. He had managed to get out of there, but it was too late. I found him vomiting blood in an isolated corridor in the middle of deck 30."
"Why...?" the dark figure began.
"I don't know...maybe he was trying to get to the infirmary. He missed by a half dozen decks, but that doesn't matter. Let's just say his radiation sickness suffering was mercifully short. The 'accident' was bad news for him, good news for me. In the confusion, no one knows who's who. And now I'm armed and have a respectable job and have been imposing order on the prisoners. It's kind of fun."
"And the other gun. Was he a black ops guy with black gun?"
"No fucking clue what it is. But it's a fringe benefit of the job. One of the Y'vals had it. Bastard claimed it was ornamental. Never had an energy signature, so it never scanned as a weapon. And maybe that's all it is, since not much happens when I pull the trigger. But after his interrogation, he had little use for it. I liked how bad-ass it looked. Now it's mine. I had to make sure all the other people in security knew I was 'serious' and in charge, and my spot interrogation fit the bill. It was like the fun times we had together in the last war, all over again." With that, he holstered the useless weapon, but kept the pulse gun leveled at the figure.
"I guess that's explains why you didn't leave."
"Yeah. Not with that group. And what's your gig? Why are you hiding out in the shadows?" Officer Kless asked with a snide tone.
"I hide in the light," the other replied. "It's much safer, at least on board this ship now. And having seen the Light, I think I have changed, even if you haven't."
"Not bloody likely," sneered Kless.
"We did have...how did you refer to them?...'fun times' together, no?"
"In our own way, yeah. Now what DO you want from me? Why did you call me here? And how did you find out about me?" Kless asked.
"To answer the questions in reverse order: I was told only to seek you out. I had no idea it was you, nor do I know how they knew, if they knew anything beyond that the acting head security officer is someone who would not let rules prevent things from getting done. I called you here because I do want something from you: I need a favor from you. You are now in a position to grant it. There is a carrot to encourage your help and there is a stick to discourage your refusal," the figure in the doorway said.
"Favor," Kless said as a statement, even though it was a question.
"A log book, from the main galley. I need it."
"You came to me to get the fucking menu from last week?" asked Kless.
"Something like that, but the log includes the materials that were used, where they came from, all the details like that."
"That's it?" he asked bewildered.
"That is all. No violence needed. No bodies. And to be honest, at this point I doubt anybody else on the ship would care about it at all," stated the stranger.
"I certainly don't," the security officer said casually. Then in the same ambiguous statement/question tone said, "Stick."
"I think that should be obvious, Chief Security Officer (2nd grade) Kless."
"I just thought of another question...one that I can think of no answer to... I don't care about this log. And as you say, pretty much no one else gives an ink squirt about it. What possible reason is there for me not to simply kill you, like in the next five seconds?"
The shadowed figure seemed completely unphazed and continued to speak in his eerily calm voice. "The answer to that is simple as well. The carrot. I understand why you did not leave with the others. I think you must understand why I remain, even if you disagree with my reason. Perhaps you do not realize that there are yet still ways to safely leave this ship. And your help would secure a place aboard one such vessel. Kill me now, and you condemn yourself to death in a day or so when the ship plummets into the small star, or whatever it is. We've worked together before to our mutual survival, as well as benefit. Also, I would suggest that you could do with some allies aboard this ship. It would be particularly bad for you if either the X'tonu'u or Y'valantic knew of your role in the war or even what side you took, both initially and subsequently. Of course this is a threat, but it's also the best chance for a way out of here."
The security officer's jaw stiffened a bit. He was obviously weighing the pros and cons. Reluctantly, he slide his weapon back into its holster.
"Time is of the essence. I will need the log by tonight. Then we can get you on the escape pod tomorrow."
Kless hesitated for a moment, then extended his hand.
The stranger stepped out of the shadows and shook Kless' hand. "I am called Brother X'til now. Get me that log and I'll see that you get a seat on the Star Cult's escape pod." And with that he left.
*****
"Come my child, release your worries and sins, as a star looses its mass in a nova event. What have you to confess?"
The confessionals were make-shift, set up to be portable booths. Not soundproofed or EM radiation-proof as the ones at the Star Cult temples are. But any port in a storm. And the two could speak without seeing each other, which was enough. This booth had no partition. While that went against the usual protocol, The Reverend Lon felt for the moment, it provided a more personal touch, and let him see the confessees. He preferred being able to watch them, to gauge the hidden signs of how his flock was doing. The Reverend Lon always kept in contact with his flock, even when he only had time for a small handful of confessions.
"Oh great Neutron Star, I come to release the information I have for the Church."
"Oh yes, Sister Kendau. I anxiously await your report."
"We have determined that several of the prepared foodstuffs in the galley test positive for contamination with our stardust. In particular, the pie and dark bread."
"And have you detected where in the galley the source was?"
"No, Neutron Star. It must have been brought in for that purpose."
"I'm working on getting more information about who is involved in this. I'm sure they didn't take it off ship. We had 20 kilograms of it. It would have been noticed and noted. It's probably in the cook's quarters or locker, or something. Keep searching."
"Yes, Neutron Star. Sir...one other thing... if a man and a woman... if they are drawn to each other, like two binary stars, caught in each other's orbit, but the man is not a brother of the children, if his orbital plane is not in the same plane as the other..." she said, while looking out towards the door. It was clear she knew the booth was not soundproof.
"Enough with the analogies, sister. I understand. There is a time and a place for everything. Even a chance for romance with one who does not believe. How better to convince and save him than with conversations from someone so deeply connected to him. But now is not the time and this is not the place. There is very important work that must be done and you must not be distracted. Perhaps life will end here, perhaps through unknown agencies, we will leave this place, along with your would-be suitor. At that point, I assure you there will be the luxury of time to consider what kind of future you want. But until then, focus on the tasks at hand." The leader rolled his eyes and shook his head, then added, "Infinite light."
"And infinite expansion," replied Sister Kendau and left the booth. Given the Neutron Star's admonition against relationships during the emergency, it might just be possible that she would be spared a bit of interest from others in the flock.
After she left, a former Y'valatic prisoner was blessed by acolytes and shown into the booth.
*****
Kless returned to the detention area. He attempted to pull up the galley logs. Nothing came up. He had access privileges--as the acting chief of security, or rather as a representative of the office of the chief of security, he could get to any general archive or log on the ship now. It wasn't a security error, something else was wrong and he wasn't a technical guy.
He tried a different tack. He pulled up the records of all of the known occupants of the ship that did not leave with the escape fleet. He narrowed the search criteria to those with technical skills. The list was surprisingly short, just a few pages. He stopped on the second page as a name caught his eye. He checked the status: uninjured, currently on active duty. And he retrieved the last known location, which had last been updated only 3 minutes earlier.
He smiled. And stood up from his desk. It was time to make his problem somebody else's problem.
*****
The door to the science lab opened and Security Officer Kless entered. The staff sergeant had been yelling at the three privates, but stopped when he saw Kless. Kless silently pointed at the 4 men and made a motion for them to leave.
Kless' reputation had spread quickly. It mainly consisted of words like "in charge", "serious", "ruthless", and "sadistic, psychopathic bastard."
The sergeant said quietly to the privates, "OK boys, I don't think there's anything in this lab. Let's check out 40-2 for that conduit. Yeah, that's were we'll be."
The four of them quickly and quietly exited Science Lab 40-3.
Kless surveyed the lab. It was a disaster, although he figured it was a man-made disaster. What would looters want in a science lab? But it was the policy of the chief of security's office not to care about anything relating to looting and science labs. In fact, he had just made that rule immediately after he entered the lab.
Jenkins stepped out of the pod again, muttering to himself about the lack of beryllium conduit, and how it can channel power for the drive engines and how it is their other one last hope. He looked up and noticed Kless, stopping in mid-sentence, saying only, "...oh...it's you."
"Well now, Mr. Jenkins, I'm a bit surprised to find you here. I would have thought you'd be among those in the A Ship fleet," said Security Officer Kless.
"I have my reasons for staying. They're...personal. And you?" asked Jenkins.
"Oh, of course they're personal too. I want to be on SOME fleet out of here, but I didn't want to be on their damned fleet. Not that it would have been my choice."
"Afraid someone might recognize you?" inquired the technical sergeant.
Kless started to say something, then caught himself. He nodded, "Yeah, actually something like that. But now I'm trying to find a way off this wreck."
"As am I," said Jenkins, pointing towards the pod behind him.
"You should have named it The False Hope. It'll never fly. Looks like everything of value in this lab was stripped and removed unless it was nailed down by zero-gun. I imagine they had to have stripped a bunch of systems from that pod. If they could cannibalize it to get another pod working, they would. And this one only holds three. Look, you're wasting your time and your talents on this. You're going to need a way off this ship. You're not doing all this work just for some sort of altruistic good bullshit. You are intending to leave this ship at some point, before it falls into the hole, right?"
Jenkins sighed. "In the end...yes, I will be going, even if it's by myself. It'd be a terrible waste if all my skills are lost."
"Of course. So I've got a different angle on it. I've got a line on an escape pod, but before they'll come through, I have to give them something, something pretty simple. The cook's log!"
Jenkins was baffled. "That's stupid. Why would anyone..."
Before he could finish, Kless said, "I have no idea. Look, I tried to access the log myself but..."
This time Jenkins finished his sentence, "the data network lines were either burned out by the post-jump energy wave or simply physically, literally, torn out by looters trying to get wire for superconducting or mooring ships together or something. No, with the networks down, the only way to get to something like a local log would be to go to the actual location and download it onto something."
"But that's something that even you could do. I mean, it's something you could do even with very limited time."
"Yes, yes, yes, of course I could. But I'm very busy. If I can restore this pod, then that'd be a way to safety for us."
"Yes...but it's a matter of priorities, isn't it? If you get me that log, I can make sure there's a seat waiting for you on a working pod," he lied.
"But who has a functioning pod?"
Two lies in a row would be difficult and waste too much time, so Kless simply said, "The Star Cult."
With that, Jenkins' interest perked up. "Oh? But where would they have an escape pod?"
"I honestly don't know," said Kless truthfully. "But they do control a number of decks."
Clearly, he had struck some sort of chord, though Kless had no idea which one. Jenkins said, "Log book, eh? You know, it probably wouldn't be hard to do. But I'd have to be there. In the galley, or in the back of it, by the office. There are still enough people around. I'd need some sort of diversion."
"Now THAT is something I can help you with," said Kless proudly. "I can create a damned fine diversion. One that'll keep everyone's attention diverted. Won't take me more than 5 minutes."
"OK, but I can't just wait in the galley. Wait a couple of hours and then give me ten minutes warning so I can get to the galley."
Kless nodded, "Not a problem."
Suddenly Jenkins broke out of his reverie and looked coldly at Kless. "You can't depressurize any corridors. It can't be that kind of distraction."
"Don't worry. That's not my style, I'm not fond of blow-outs," he said with a slight shudder. "You'll have ten minutes to get there before the shit hits the fan. Just keep on your toes after that, and for your own sake don't wear anything with colors on it, at all! I'm serious. Grays and browns are fine. Nothing else."
Kless left the lab. Jenkins packed a set of portable tools and changed into a nondescript gray jumpsuit, and then left the lab, heading straight for the C-Section.